MindChimes

As a kid, what I loved the most was to listen to stories. My grandparents were awesome story tellers and so were my parents. I heard stories about both sides of my family along with a lot of Ramayana and Mahabharata and other folk/fairy tales. I craved to hear more and more. What I didn’t know then was that, I had managed to store it all away in my hard disk for all these years.

Granny

The person I relate to the most in my family is my grandmother – my father’s mother. I have known her as the strong, fearsome (to the rest of the world) person, who held the whole family together. I look nothing like her but what I am today is mostly of her. Sometimes, I look at my own reflection on the glass pane and suddenly see her, the same hands, the same gait, the same attitude towards life. I run my household according to what she used to say so many years ago.

I was never her favourite and I didn’t mind. Truthfully, at that time I was too busy living my life to care about being anyone’s favourite in that huge family.  She adored our eldest cousin and my little sister who was then the youngest in the family. With me, it was always a conflict of interest.

Thaku-ma as we called her was also known as Renuka. By the time we were born that name almost didn’t exist except in official papers. Her marriage to my grandfather was an arranged marriage, pretty much without their consent. It so happened that her elder sister, who was a great beauty in those days, was married to my grandfather’s handsome elder  brother. It was decided that the two sisters should marry into the same family.

I never found out who made the match, but I guess it was her sister. She was worried her tall and dark little sister would never land a groom. The opinion of the bride and the groom was never asked and nor did they see each other before the wedding. My grandfather on the other hand didn’t mind much thinking his bride too would look like her fair, petite and pretty sister. In those days people didn’t think much of the supermodel good-looks, hence my granddad was sorely disappointed. He even made it a point to let his 13 year old bride know about it.

The marriage started with discontent and disapproval. There was never much love or harmony between them. They were like two strangers living under the same roof. One was the breadwinner and the other the homemaker. They went on to have seven kids. They stayed married all their life and brought up the children together. But all that was possible because she was the woman she was.

On the other side of the family was my grandmother – my mother’s mother. I don’t remember her much. I was very young when she passed away. She is someone I know from the stories I have heard about her. I do not emulate her in anyway though I have her passion for books, music, cooking and fine living. The little of her in me is what was in my genes.

Didi as we called her was known as Binapani. She and my grandfather had a love marriage at a time, when love before marriage was unheard of. Didi was the daughter of a widow, who had taken it upon herself to be educated so that she could earn for the family. Education for women was still at the grass root level then and a working woman was unheard of. Didi was the first woman staff for the state government. She had her office at the famous Writer’s building. She met my grandfather during her work life and accepted his proposal for marriage.

Didi always dressed in white. She had a wardrobe full of crisp white cotton sarees that she wore the modern way. She always wore sandals with 3 inch heels and used expensive soaps and perfumes. She earned more than her husband did and supported 2 families. She was an officer before her husband got to that designation. She was never a looker. She was frail, thin and short with beautiful knee length hair, and

a personality that could throw off any man. She was a rebel among women of her time.

Didi not only loved her husband who could sometimesbe a tyrant, but also taught the whole household to love and respect him at all times. She stood by her ideals against all odds and did what she thought was right. She was a woman who knew her mind and however frail she might have been she ruled with an iron hand.

Two very different women, both equally strong. They define me for who I am today.

Filed under: The Journey on July 19th, 2010