Bindi And The Kajal

She stood in front of the mirror, as was her daily routine after bath. She loved herself. As the trademark of a married woman, she placed the bindi on her forehead. Only, she kept it big. She made the kajal at home only. She swung the kajal from left to right on her eyes and in one go, she was ready. As I stood there, just standing in awe, admiring her beauty, she turned towards me and smiled. And what an apt name she had too. Vasundhara.

The childhood

I was her first grand-child. I called her ammamma (mom's mom). I am the lucky few who have spent most of their childhood with grandparents. Both my grandparents lived just 2 streets across each other. So, half of my day was with ammamma. She kept me well-fed with my favorites. She played with me. I wasn't too much of a fashion-obsessed girl. I didn't like wearing bangles or managing my hair. Ammamma made sure I was all that I didn't do. A cozy nap on her lap was the best part of my day. Oh! I loathed the head bath days. But, ammamma had a beautiful song for that too. I still remember the kaakamma gubbamma stories she told with so much acting.

The traveler

Who says travel young and free? Ammamma defied all rules of traveling. She has had some great adventures with her daughter's family while in Delhi. Bearing the cold and hot regions, with much confidence, she traveled with her elder son's family. Travel abroad? Oh yes! With her younger son's family, she has also set foot on foreign lands. Travel young and free? Yes, young at heart and free in thoughts.

Can you handle it, single?

With grandpa's unpredictable transfers related to his job, ammamma stay put at one place. Caring for 3 kids and giving them the best of education was her sole motive in life. She motivated her kids to live their lives. Be it their travels, their education, their family, ammamma was supportive of all her kid's decisions. But, doing all this single handedly at early stages of their lives? Hands folded and a big bow!

Hit by the stroke

It takes only few seconds or minutes sometimes, when life changes direction. One such incident was ammamma's stroke. She had a heart surgery. I was too young to understand the consequences. But, did life change? Actually, no. Ammamma was no different than she already was before. She came back home with a new shine and continued to smile at life.

Life is smooth, or is it?

All of us continued with our normal life, including ammamma. All was smooth until few years later, ammamma developed a diabetic foot. Her foot looked like a black insect had gobbled it. Doctor's instinct of amputation of her leg didn't convince anyone to go for it. Other options were researched. An HBOT therapy that could heal part of the problem was our only hope to save her leg. Miraculously, it worked, even though she lost few toe fingers. At-least, her leg was saved. She could walk OK. Daily routines continued with not much hindrance after that. She came out more bold and strong than ever before.

2017's hospital stint

Age had given way to more problems. In March 2017, ammamma was admitted to the hospital following a heart ailment. Her heart valve had become weak. Surgery was ruled out owing to concerns on age and being diabetic. It would slowly become weaker and weaker. But, nobody gave a time frame. At the back of our mind, we knew she would not live long. Few months, few years, more years? Nobody knew. Ammamma came back bold but not strong enough, physically.

Time to give back

Ammamma was the flag bearer of the family for years. To know that she wouldn't be able to work as normal as before, broke her heart. She couldn't stand and cook. And we definitely missed that food. I still remember the butter cake she made. We would never leave her house on empty stomach. Such was her dedication to tingle our taste buds.

Did life stop again? No way. It was time to give all of her young years back. Her family took turns to prepare the food. On some days, she would get specialty food from her grandchildren and so proudly she would have it and appreciate us. Ammamma liked my cake too.

A family member in the form of daughter, daughter-in-law, son, grandchildren and great-grandson would keep her occupied during day and night.

Ammamma had small gatherings outside her house daily evenings with the neighboring

Aunties too.

She lived

After the heart attack, we knew time was ticking. After few months, we even forgot that. She survived for 1 more year. We were all glad.

Ammamma was part of recent 2 major events - our house warming ceremony and the completion of my cousin's graduation. We had got her a beautiful bright saree for another function to be held later. And my cousin was eagerly waiting to show her convocation photos too later.

Preparing for the journey

All of us prepare for any of our trips right? Maybe she did too.

May 14, 2018

She stood in front of the mirror, as was her daily routine after bath. She loved herself. As the trademark of a married woman, she placed the bindi on her forehead. Only, she kept it big. She made the kajal at home only. She swung the kajal from left to right on her eyes and in one go, she was ready.

Promptly doing her pooja, she decorated God's adobe with at-most care. Maybe she said a silent prayer that none of us heard.

Few hours into the day, she complained of uneasiness and my mom rushed. Dad and I were in office. My uncle's family was out too. All of us were nearby though. My mom called me to book a cab for them. I tried and my phone switched off. Keeping it on charge, before I booked the cab, I informed my dad to go home early if possible. Meanwhile, mom called her brother too to come early. I got a cab finally and it was just 1 minute away from pick up. I immediately called my mom and she pronounced, "Ammamma is no more". Dad was almost home when I gave him this news. My uncle's family too was near home when they heard the news. Ammamma had died in her daughter's arms. This was sudden and hard to digest the fact. A confirmatory watsapp message from my mother reading, "Amma is no more" still pricks our eyes.

For her final rites, we draped her with the new saree we had got. And few days later, my cousin would show her the convocation photos too, I thought.

As I stood there, just standing in awe, admiring her beauty, but she didn't turn towards me this time to smile. And what an apt name she had too. Vasundhara. Even in the face of death.

With the bindi and kajal intact, she left with the same beauty as she had made our lives.