Nothing can match a grandmother’s love
THAT ALL THOSE LOVING MEMORIES ARE STILL FRESH IN MY MIND EVEN AFTER SIX DECADES, TESTIFIES TO THE BOND OF TRUE LOVE THAT WE, AS CHILDREN, SHARED WITH OUR GRANDMA
Humorously speaking, if we choose to compare parents with a cake then grandparents are the icing on the cake. But that is a fact.
Grandparents have a special place in our hearts for some obvious reasons. The first and foremost reason is that grandparents make their angelic arrival and rescue their endangered grandchildren when the indignant parents scold them or try to beat them for their mischief. And the next is that they abundantly pamper their grand kids by always getting them toys, chocolates, biscuits and so on.
The nostalgic memories of my childhood bonding with my grandma crop up clearly on the canvas of my mind. Most of my childhood days were spent under the tender care of my grandmother at our ancestral village in Ferozepur district. Those days, ours would be one of the richest hamlets on the banks of the Sutlej river. Each family had one or two of its members working abroad. Being financially well-off, their families led a luxurious life. Imported cosmetics, cheese, jam and other canned food items were freely available in almost every household. The children would have a gala time time rolling in these luxuries.
My father’s house was situated just opposite our grandma’s home, where we children would play all day long. Though not much qualified, my grandmother was a dynamic, systematic lady with a predilection for cleanliness and good housekeeping. In spite of having a spacious house, she always kept it neat and clean with every article arranged in an apple pie order.
The walls of the house were bedecked with portraits and large paintings from overseas. The house had an English-style grandfather’s clock and as a ritual, my grandma would wind its key on a fixed day every week for its smooth running.
In one of the corners of the front hall, we had a large doll and my grandma would dress it up like a queen, She stitched multi-coloured clothes with her Singer sewing machine. She would never forget to change the gown every week. There was also a His Master’s Voice gramophone and as a music buff she had a huge collection of records. We would watch spellbound when the HMV stylus moved on the records and the mellifluous music from the gramophone regaled us.
Among the many rooms in the house, my favourite was christened Mithai Room (sweets room) because here my grandma would keep boxes of chocolates, sweets, biscuits and dry fruits, both imported and local, in a big almirah. Almost every evening, our gang would throng at her place to savour her love-filled delicacies of chocolates and biscuits that she would bring from the Mithai Room and distribute among us.
Every month, I would accompany my grandma to the city to buy things for the house and to replenish her stock of sweets, chocolates and other edibles. How can I afford to forget the delicious biryani we used to relish at Harish Hotel and the legendary halwa from the original halwa stall in the city!
Observing our grandmother leading a disciplined life filled with unadulterated love taught us a lot of lessons. That all those loving memories are still fresh in my mind even after six decades, testifies to the bond of true love that we, as children, shared with our grandma.