Open Your Heart To Love

Here, take your ball of wool Granny aunty and don’t worry if you need any help, you can call me. My name is Rishika’ she said with an impish smile. Meenakshi cringed looking at her muddy hands, but the large brown eyes filled with innocence and warmth were enough to melt even the hardest rock. And why did you call me Granny aunty? asked Meenakshi in a stern voice. Though slightly taken aback Rishika answered matter of factly ‘Your hair is both grey and black, so you Granny aunty and not Terror Amma.’ Meenakshi was angry and amused with her reply,  a spontaneous smile adorned her face which she tried hard to conceal. To avoid further questioning and sensing the opportunity, Rishika made a dash for the door and looking back said ‘ I have been watching you for so many days now with that frown, you should smile more often Granny Aunty, you look less frightening.’ 

Meenakshi Swamy was a resident of the ‘Madhuban Meadows’ for over 25 years. She had moved into the bungalow with her now late husband Dr Swamy and two sons Ishan and Ivaan aged 17 and 14years respectively. She has spent the best years of her life here and is a lecturer of Biochemistry she was always upright about discipline and rules. She often ended up calling a spade a spade and rubbing people around her the wrong way. Her boys, especially Ishan would often request her to let go as it takes all kinds to make the world, but that did not deter Meenakshi from making her point even if it meant offending people around. Ivaan on the other hand was the happy go lucky one and could not identify with the ‘Crusader’ mindset of his mother. He would keep saying ‘Chillax Amma’. More often than not Dr Swamy would have to play peacemaker to keep sanity at the dinner table.

The neighbours and community helpers had nicknamed her ‘Terror Amma’, owing to her fiery temper and fastidious nature. Her firm demeanour and high pitched voice intimidated the adults and children alike and they evaded her to avoid any confrontation culminating in a long sermon. This meant she hardly had any friends but that did not worry her, as she was busy with college, her home and her knitting. With time her boys moved to Australia for further studies and settled down there leaving her warm cosy nest, empty. She missed her boys sorely as the paucity of friends had resulted in Meenakshi spending all her spare time at home tending to their needs. It had created an emotional void but Meenakshi never allowed a manifestation of her vulnerability as she considered it as a symbol of weakness. She was a strong independent woman and she kept that facade intact, even when Dr Swamy passed away owing to a cardiac arrest a year back. Her sons had tried to convince her to stay with them, but she had been firm about not leaving her home. She was often reminiscent of the time spent with her family and that made her feel very alone. She made every ditch effort to keep herself occupied with her knitting and would often sit on the terrace to bask in the sun and get some free air. 

Meenakshi had seen Rishika, the watchman’s 10-year-old daughter, play with her friends just outside her compound. Despite Meenakshi's rigid expressions, Rishika never failed to smile at her and at times even waved at her, but Meenakshi never acknowledged her presence. It had become a ritual in the last few weeks and that day when Meenakshi pulled her rocking chair to sit with her knitting needles she was surprised to see Rishika missing in action. There was an unspoken bond that tied her to Rishika and she missed her warm smile and big brown eyes. She looked around frantically and was walking back and forth on the terrace when the ball of wool fell from the terrace. She called for help but the other children playing were terrified of her and scooted off. 

Meenakshi was miffed that no one had responded to her and decided to come down to fetch the yarn and also give a piece of her mind to the security for their lax behaviour. Just as she had opened her door, her face red with rage, she saw Rishika standing there with the ball of wool. She looked straight at Meenakshi with a twinkle in her eyes and returned it. Meenakshi was delighted to see her, she realised that Rishika was connected to her in a strange way. Meenakshi watched Rishika run towards her friends, turning back to smile and wave. Meenakshi smiled with moist eyes, as she could feel that love and friendship had found their way back into her lonely life. So always remember to keep your heart open and love will find its way to sprinkle your life with Magic.