Grandparents: A gift of god

By Nandini Vyas

Up until three years ago, I lived in a joint family that consisted of me, my parents, my two cousins, their parents, and our grandparents. My grandmother passed away when I was 8, but I still have great memories of her. She was the strongest woman I know. She raised four children all on her own while my grandfather was building his own company from the ground up. Even then, she would take up the administration and record-keeping when he was short-staffed.

In winter, the two of us would go up to the terrace, and I would walk down a round staircase with all airs and graces and pretend to accept awards as she worked on whatever project she had taken up that day. We would eat fruits together before dressing up and heading to the garden. She would take me to her room when my mother would get mad at me and let me draw random designs with Henna and eat whatever monstrosity I had come up with.

I remember my grandfather a lot better. He passed away recently, and I wasn’t with him during that time, which is one of my biggest regrets. Whatever time we had together will never seem enough. One thing he would always say is, “Girl, you are a menace” in our native tongue as I cribbed about school or mimicked our relatives. He bought me books and wrote notes on the front page, signing them so we could have them forever.

Coming to my maternal grandmother, she is adorable. I had my best sleep after she told me stories at the end of the day because she believed if you tell stories during daylight, your uncle will lose his way home. These are just some of the little things that I will carry with me as I turn 18 in a few days, I wish I could somehow go back in history one way or another because nothing compares to the moments you spend with your grandparents.