42) My Granny

Yesterday was the tenth death anniversary of my granny and I visited my uncle’s place for the Sharddam ceremony. Rukmini grandma was a character whose memories time had not effaced and these yearly rituals were all that was left to reinforce us of her greatness. It’s a life that carried many a lessons.

Primary, she was all grit and courage. Endurance and tenacity too flowed through her veins in ample supply.

She married at 20 to a 40 year old widower and tragically, the man died very young but not before leaving behind 4 children. Imagine the plight of a late 30 woman having to run a household with a 15 year old son; two daughters aged 11 and 7, and an infant to manage on her own.

Luckily, money was not a problem and that afforded some comfort and security. To be young widow during the 1940s in a conservative Brahmin society is nothing short of tortuous hell. They were expected to shave their heads and cover themselves with an ochre cloth. The worst humiliation was being confined in the background and the society regarded them as an eyesore and bad omen best avoided.

My granny would recount many tales of her struggles. Like on one occasion in late 60s, she was waiting for the first early morning bus from Villipuram to Chennai and the conductor banged is head in frustration before taunting, “Lady, you know you’re a widow and why do insist on showing your face so early in the morning? Why are you so determined in making this a horrible day?”

Rukmini grandma got down from the bus in the terminus and cried her heart out at the injustice and humiliations of an insensitive world. What could she go except wait for an 8’o clock bus and be the last passenger to embark even if it meant not getting a seat and having to enduring standing a three hour journey.

Bringing 4 children in such an atmosphere was Herculean and no father to guide them. In addition, the family had given up on agriculture opting for jobs that the city offered. But that family had done well.

My uncle, Vaithy joined the Railways after civil engineering and went on to rise to the level of Chief Engineer, Southern Railway. His sons are in the US and he’s still grateful for the memories of a mother who ensured good education for her children and daughters’ married to decent men.

My aunts too are equally prosperous; one married an Indian embassy officer in United Kingdom and after 40 years there, the family prefers that country. Another is wedded to an IAS officer who for a while headed the telecom operations in the country.

The last uncle, my favourite, went into real estate and he too thrives considering that he owns a house in a rich neighbourhood and more cars than can be accommodated in the parking lot. .

After the sharddam, I said,” There’s none like granny. She would visit us frequently and so full of energy”.

My uncle added,” After her death, we have lost the link that connects families as she was one common binding factor”.

It’s not so difficult to close your eyes and visualize the humiliations of a widow. To have brought her children to such a state is worth a Bharat Ratna in my book.