Savita Govil

Children Stories Drama Inspirational

5.0  

Savita Govil

Children Stories Drama Inspirational

My Grandmother, My Inspiration

My Grandmother, My Inspiration

5 mins
3.0K


In olden times, very few women were educated. It was expected of them to be very efficient in household affairs. My grandmother was one such woman. A simple petite and a fair looking woman, who always wore crisp cotton sarees. She had three sons. My father was her eldest son. I was the second daughter and my sister and I had an age gap of only 12 months. It was very difficult for my mother to look after us. My parents used to live in a small town in Madhya Pradesh and my grandmother used to live with my grandfather in Delhi. I was born weak. My grandmother suggested my father give me to her so that she can look after me. My mother was a bit reluctant in the beginning but then she agreed with a very heavy heart.


My grandmother brought me up and educated me in an English medium school and took care of me very sincerely. I used to call her "mummy". Time passed by.....it was the year 1968 when one day a telegram came stating that my uncle, who was a doctor was ill. Those were the days when the phone was a luxury.....mostly urgent messages were conveyed through telegrams. My grandparents packed their bags, gave an application in my school and boarded the train to Jabalpur to look after my uncle. On reaching there, they came to know that he was critical as he was suffering from gangrene of the stomach. The gangrene had burst in the stomach and the poison had spread in the body. Within two days he passed away.


Both my grandparents were shocked. That time I was in class eighth but I could understand that the biggest tragedy is to face the death of your own child. It was very painful to see them so sad and inconsolable at times. My father had also come to Jabalpur to attend all the rituals and he too was inconsolable. After thirteen days of rituals, my father had to leave as he was an engineer in the Madhya Pradesh Electricity board. We stayed at a relative's place after all the rituals were completed and were planning to return to Delhi but somebody from my father's office rang at my relative's place and told my grandparents that my father was not well and they must visit my father's place before leaving for Delhi.


We all three i.e. me and my grandparents rushed to that small town where my father was admitted but saw my mother yelling and crying like a butchered bird as my father died of cardiac arrest. What a harsh tragedy. My grandfather was a patient of blood pressure. It was very difficult for him to bear the shock and after two a half months on 31st December 1968, he too passed away. Three deaths in the same family within five months. She brought my mother, my sister and my brother, who was just nine years to Delhi.


It was very difficult to get my sister and brother admitted to the school in the middle of the session. No school was ready to give them admission as the educational standard of Delhi was high in comparison to the small village of Madhya Pradesh. My grandmother requested, begged and cried before the principal of the school and explained to them her tragedy and very courageously asked the authorities that if the Children had to come in between the session, do they not have the right to get admission. The principal was moved and later was kind enough to give admission to my sister and brother. Later on, she went to my school and met my principal and told her that she wanted to withdraw me from an English medium school and put me in Hindi medium school as it was very difficult to bear the expenses of an English medium school. My school principal was a kind-hearted woman and gave some concession and I had not to leave school.


I never saw her reading any self-help book, nor she ever went to hear any motivational discourses but she faced the cruel life with great courage. My mother used to get a meagre amount in the name of a pension. My grandmother along with my mother used to ceaselessly toil doing all the work and used to even see clothes and earned a little bit of money. Her life in itself was a great INSPIRATION for me and my siblings. With the responsibility of three grandchildren on her, she had no time to mourn. I never saw her throwing any kind of tantrums. She was calm and quiet. I always saw her busy knitting and cooking for us. Looking at the sadness of my mother, who was just 35 when she got widowed, my grandmother used to refrain from crying. Time passed by and we all grew up and she married all of us into respected families. We all gradually settled down in our life with her blessings. Her sacrifices were great. We never saw her tired.


We all learned that life means to go on and not to complain. She never asked, "why me ?" She just kept on wading through the cruel life. Believe me, we never heard the word "depression" from her ever in life.


I immensely loved her because she brought me up and adopted me when I was just seven months old.


Times have changed, now I am a 63-year-old woman. Whenever I feel a little low in my life, I remember her. ....a woman, who lost her two sons aged 37 and 39 respectively and still survived and brought us up with great dignity.


A few years back I got a call from my brother that she was not well.....I rushed to Delhi to see her last glimpse but alas she passed away, leaving the lessons of life as a great treasure for us.



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