Dadima

• bey0ndM@gz!ne
• November 9, 2018
• People-Perspective
• 0 Comments

Life beyond the boundaries is simple and easy. The admiration and respect I had for my grandma, my Dadima, is indescribable.

The unforgettable memories from the tender age of three, I recall walking out of my house to play in my neighborhood. In the meantime, my majestic and regal grandmother, wrapped around in freshly ironed, white linen saree, with her silver hair neatly combed in a plait and flawless skin would be sitting in the balcony on her rocking chair. Her contagious smile and her warm hug was my safe haven.

Magically, she would sense what her naughty grand-daughter would be up to and would always have her back. The soft whispers of secret promises into my ear reverberate till today. I was special as she fulfilled all the demands this spoilt grandchild asked for. Not to say, that she treated the others differently, but she had a knack of making everyone feel extraordinary. With age, my demands changed and never was there a day where she ignored them. To me, I was her only princess.

The distinguishing scent of my dadima is etched in my memory. My one and only bedtime story was recited by her with great pleasure and joy. I would comfortably roll over to her side, wrap my leg on her belly and my arm around her neck, enthusiastically listening, feeling ecstatic and shocked as the story rolled on. I thoroughly enjoyed the bond we had. Today, over half a century later, I can still recite the same tale, word by word. Why didn’t I ask for a different story? I guess, it isn’t about the story, it is being in the moment with the person you trust. The essence is only captured when you completely surrender and are encapsulated in the bond of unconditional love.

Fast forward, today sitting on my yoga-mat, along with my two precious grandchildren, stretching, laughing and being playful, I encourage my little wonders to invent their own poses when they stretch in different directions. I ask my 4 year old grandson to name the “downward dog”, my prince officially states, “the bum up” and we giggle. Then my 8-year-old granddaughter goes into a child’s pose to create “the sleeping cat”. We smoothly continue from one pose to another, weaving and inventing our story, our private little pact. Like my grandmother, I too would like to establish the same relationship of trust and compassion when one is in the moment.

I often wonder about the generation gap and their views. Of course, grandmothers look different today, but that does not mean that traditions cannot be handed down or inherited. Any moment which is soaked and surrounded in love is a profound experience which will be carried on. Do I have that special smell? I wonder how I will be remembered. OH…Well… we probably will have the answers half a century later.

– By Seemaa Hiranandani