Nani in the Sun
A winter afternoon in Delhi, I sat and listened to my Nani, my grandmother. Both of us sat squinting in the sun, while basking in the winter heat like reptiles on lakeshores. She spoke of her childhood days, spent in Ambala and Roorkee. She said, “My mother would give me money to go buy books that we couldn’t afford. I read lots of books and all the copies of Woman and Home, a British magazine stocked in the corner bookstore at Roorkee. Out of 6-7 siblings, I had a music teacher who would come every evening and teach me ghazals and bhajans.” Nani is the kind of person who forgets surroundings when she is in temples, stands up and begins to dance and sway to music. She would spend hours singing alone. “We did plays by Shakespeare. My brothers and sisters would put up a curtain and jump up to perform with their parts. As the eldest sister, I would direct the plays. Days passed in those small towns playing badminton and carom and exploiting a box of water-colours. That was what life was about. The influence of Roorkee University motivated everyone to study hard and score well. I spent my time knitting sweaters I enjoyed creating. We concocted innovative recipes and pampered ourselves with ‘tasty-tasty’ food. There was a buffalo in the house and we would all have lots of milk and butter. We walked in fields, along canals for miles and miles. We would all climb the nieghbour’s wall and jump all over.” And then my Nani got married at 21. She was expected to handle domestic responsibilities and was aghast! So she worked reluctantly like a spoilt girl. Ha ha ha…!