Nature vs Nurture

It is every child’s purview to be able to get the accompaniment of their grandparents. I too was fortunate to be with them for a certain time in my life. But those were not my knowing years. So, in a way, I actually have missed having real conversations with any of my grandparents: maternal or paternal.

My nani (mother’s mother) used to spend a lot of time talking with my mother rather than with me or my younger sister. Amongst all the grandchildren, she was quite attached to my uncle’s children as she used to live with them. But she used to visit us sometimes. What I remember of her are traces of her meticulousness and her ability to manage a large household with the wisdom of a businessman. Whether it was getting the yearly ration in advance at a reasonable price and storing it or making lots of papads and drying them by the conventional sun – drying method for use during the entire year, I have heard innumerable tales about her from my mother and maternal aunts. She died when I was quite young and I can second what my mother’s relatives say about her being a good homemaker because at times I too had experienced it.

There was a time or two when I had visited my maternal uncle’s house where my nani used to live and had stayed there over lunch. At that time, she had prepared a typical Maharashtrian delicacy; usal (dal-like-semi-thick gravy dish) from Bengal gram and served it along with plain rice and an egg omlette. The dal was not very spicy, the omlette too was plain, but yet the food was so tasty that even today when I make the same combination at home or have it somewhere outside, I am instantly transported back to that memory. Nani had this amazing ability of cooking non-spicy yet tasty food which I feel is a rare quality.

My fathers’ mother (dadi) lived for long, but she too never told me stories as such. She had this habit of ending each sentence by saying “ashi gammat.” (Means: “It was so funny I tell you….”) and after a point in time my uncles (father’s brothers) used to secretly make a joke about it with all of us (grandchildren). I used to like certain vegetable curries that she used to make. Especially the one with green peas and potatoes as also the one with white beans. Even today when someone in my family makes a curry like her, I remember her and tell them “Hmm … Aaji sarkhi jhaliye bhaji.” (Means: “the vegetable curry that you have made has turned out to be like dadi’s”)

I remember that my dadi had this custom of taking a pinch of salt and rotating it around each grandchild when our visit was about to get over and we were to leave her place. Along with salt she also used to take some mustard seeds and rice grains and would chant something while doing that act, meanwhile placing a pan on the stove. Once her chanting was over, she used to place all of it onto the hot pan. The mustard seeds, rice and the salt would crackle and would emit a distinct pungent odor. And depending on how pungent that odor was, dadi used to tell us the extent with which someone had an evil eye on us! Those were the days!

For the kind of rational person that I am, I was surprised that I never ever felt like questioning my dadi (which I always do with all my aunts as I am thoroughly driven by reasoning) for this because I could sense so much love, affection and concern in that act of hers. And that really mattered to me!

I had the opportunity to go on two trips with my nani. One was to Lonavla and the other to Goa. Both the trips happened when I was very young, around my fourth grade or so. There is a particular memory from the Lonavla trip when we both (me and my nani) were resting in the hotel room which my parents had booked while the remaining members were busy shopping. My nani used to love watching T.V. and thanks to her, some family drama kind of movie was playing on the television set in our room.

It was actually quite a serious movie but there were parts in it that were hilarious. I was a passive observer for a large part of the time, but I remember one particular scene where I just lost myself and started laughing crazily. What started as loud laughter continued extensively into bouts of intermittent chuckles gradually growing into loud laughter again which eventually led me to roll on the bed in our room. My nani was amused at first but later she scolded me for laughing so much. She had her own notions of how much a girl should laugh which I never cared about. Wouldn’t have even today. I remember she taunted me once for eating too much fish, which I used to as a kid, which I had not liked. I mean we all like something or the other in our growing years and I have been a foodie all my life!

Anyways that was her. Well-defined and sculpted in her mannerisms. I am nothing like her on the outset. But within me, I have layers of her resilience (which I am yet understanding) and her ability of cooking (I am more on the smarter, innovative and exploratory side, I hate set patterns and consistency unlike her), although only occasionally.

As far as my dadi is concerned, I feel she was a very consciously passive lady at times in her life and I have that too within me. I can really ignore things that are of no significance to me and that really enables me to stay focused in life. 

So, although I never got to hear any stories in particular from my dadi or nani, I made sure to write one for you. It is true, sometimes people say things through their way of being. I hope someday I too am able to just be myself and inspire someone around me. Without the overwhelming need of doing something or teaching ‘how he or she is supposed to be’ in their life. That is difficult, isn’t it?

I genuinely feel each individual is whole within themselves and if they are given the right environment they flourish and become better individuals. Given a chance I would support ‘nurture’ in the ‘nature-nurture controversy’! How about you?