She looked away from her books, as she noticed a figure moving by her window. She pulled the curtains apart to see an old man walking painfully slowly with a baby's pram.
Everyday at 4pm.
She swallowed with difficulty as she watched him yet again on his afternoon walk, pushing the same pram. The chilly Canadian weather didn't seem to bother him as much. But his legs seemed to.
She noticed his thick woollen hat and remembered her own Baba's Nehru style winter hat. She felt the same pangs of..... She didn't know of what. Longing, p'haps? For that which she had missed.
She wondered why it had never been her. She remembered her grandmother, She who had passed away many seasons ago. She, whom she willed herself to forget. She, whom she thought she had pushed away from herself in her thoughts. And She, whose memories were so simply invoked at the sight of an aged, soft, kind-faced Indian grandmother in saree, bringing many tears to her eyes and the same grief that she thought she had willed herself to forget.
She wondered if perhaps, she had been white, that they had not lived many seas apart, that if they hadn't been who they were, perhaps then she might have had the same fortunes.What if she hadn't just been loved, but had seen it too?
Perhaps she too might have been the baby in the pram, with her grandparents on a walk on chilly Canadian sidewalks.
Everyday at 4pm.
10 comments:
touching :(
once again you have done it....my grandpa is in india right now and i was missing him pretty badly today....after reading this i miss him even more, because it so much relates to him....
:(
Why would you wish your grandparents had to walk you out on a chilly winter as this....you could have wished on a bright summer day instead....
the point is that even chilly winters do not deter the grandparents to spend sometime alone with their grandchild.
hmmmm....interesting !!! didnt think of that....but you are right....their love for their grandchildren can never stop them from facing any circumstances
you know, you can take heart in knowing that all your memories of your granny are good. sometimes they way things are, are the way they were meant to be.
nice post...
that girl in pink: Hey- it's a fictional piece. inspirations and the like of course is a different matter. :)
I miss my Dadi. She was the best Dadi ever. I really, really want her back. I hate that she's not there anymore... and that it's just me. And not her and me.
Mirchii: I understand. Not for my Dadi as much, but for a grandmother, yes.
When I have such thoughts I try to remember that, I was lucky to have her for 18 years of my life. My 5 year old cousin didn't even have that.
I feel luckier still when I realize that there are many [ and you'd be surprised at how many] kids there are there who weren't the reciepients of the same kind of unconditional love and relationship.
Maybe you find solace in such thoughts too.
p.s. I usually don't write such personal replies to comments but I understand how you feel and felt like saying this.
::hugs::
Post a Comment