The Potion called Love

When I close my eyes and think about my grandparents, I can visualize a plethora of memories I have of them. To me, the word ‘grandparents’ is synonymous to ‘Love’ – the very word triggers the emotion for as long as I remember they have been showering me with the same. I consider myself lucky to get the love of my two sets of grandparents. My maternal grandparents were aged compared to my paternal folks. I visited them twice or maybe thrice a year. On the other hand, my paternal grandparents lived with us. They have been a part of my growing up and so their memories are vividly etched in my mind.

I have always been my grandfather’s dearest. He would pamper me a lot and obviously I loved all of it. I remember an incident from my childhood where I had accidentally broken an expensive china dish while playing with it despite repeated warnings from my parents. My parents rushed to the room hearing the sound of the dish breaking, ready to scold me right away. With them came my grandfather- ‘Dadu’ as I lovingly called him. I was scared as I knew I was in trouble. To my surprise, Dadu asked my parents to refrain from punishing me and took me to another room. He gave me another toy to play with and shortly I was immersed in my own world of playful imagination. After some time he called me to sit beside him and explained to me the gravity of the matter. I promised never to play with china again. Now when I think of the incident, I realize that it was the first lesson to accept the worst in life and move ahead on a better path.

‘Mummum'- my grandmother was my buddy. She was my dance partner, games partner, my favourite story-teller and my teacher. She used to teach me songs and poems. She had an amazing memory back then. She could recall the poems she learnt as a child and passed them on to me. She would tell me stories of Ramayana, Mahabharata and other stories. I would literally absorb them. By the time I was 3, I could narrate the entire Ramayana and Mahabharata by heart. She would sing me to sleep every night and I remember her humming as the very last thing before I drifted off to dreamland.

As days passed by, Dadu and Mummum grew older and older. They were struck by the inevitable – old age. As I grew up, I became engrossed it other activities- school, extracurricular activities, watching tv. I got another playmate in the form of my little brother. My interaction with my grandparents reduced eventually. I felt that now they are in their own old world reminiscing about their youth, their life before they grew old but they were not detached from the present. I remember the happiness in their eyes in form of tears around the corners when I touched their feet before heading out for my first class X board exam. I knew it was their way of letting me know that they are proud of me.

My grandfather passed away last year and my grandmother 3 weeks ago. I feel a void right at the middle of my heart. My two most loved people left me in a span of a year. Though I accept their passing away as the ultimate destination of life, I am unable to fill up that hole yet. Whenever I go to their room now, all I can see their empty chairs. I miss their presence immensely. I like to think that spending 25 years with grandparents is the result of a good karma, for their mere touch is the unadulterated potion of pure love.