“It is hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember”.
It has been exactly a month since the passing away of my dear Vaaji, my paternal grandmother. And there hasn’t been a single day since that I don’t remember her. I have been meaning to write my thoughts about her for a while, but a part of me still can’t believe she has left us for her heavenly abode.
Both my grandmothers (Nani and Dadi) left no stone unturned in going over-board in showering us, their grandchildren, with unbridled affection, love and support. Both of them exuded with their strong presence a sense of invincibility which I thought would extend till eternity. Losing them both within a span of just 6 months (My Dear Nani) has been a tragic loss.
Even today, I expect to see Vaaji smiling at me, from her seat by the window in the masjid or from her favourite chair in her bedroom. She had a habit of selecting a place to make it her own wherever she stayed and that habit extended to her place in the car as well. Happily I treasure the last few months that she stayed with us and the sight of her favourite spot in our home reminds me of her daily.
Vaaji was born in Nagpur and as a young bride moved to Vizag after her marriage to Mr. Hussain Safi Mehdi, my grand-father. Living in a joint family, as my aunt reminiscences to me-“she was the favourite daughter and sister-in-law of the family”. Always willing and ready to share and give anything she was asked of. She was a pillar of support to my grand-father and to my father, uncle and aunts at all times.
She was a very determined woman. Quiet, but had immense strength and will-power. Her disarming smile carefully hid all her emotional and physical pains. She had a will to live and make the most of her life. She lost her eldest teen aged son whom she doted on, to cancer. But this did not break her. She became even more determined to give the rest of her children the best that she could offer. She herself was a cancer survivor and through her months of recovery, she smiled and bore the pain, never complaining.
She was also fiercely independent, right up till the end. She calmly went about doing her own chores even though she was frail and getting on in years and even helped with prepping vegetables in the kitchen. She would chide my two little naughty nephews, (her great grand-children) when they did not clear up their toys after playing, but would readily pick up after them when they left for their home each evening. I know she did the same for us as well when we were kids.
As most grand-mothers are, she was a fantastic cook and had some interesting multi-cuisine recipes of her own. My dad recalls how his friends loved to eat her version of the French toast (a fusion of sweet and savoury flavours) and they even renamed it ‘Vaaji’s French toast’. She enjoyed reading, and I remember the Manorama magazine subscriptions she looked forward to every month. She was a devout and spiritual person and like my Nani (My Dear Nani) had a progressive and modern outlook to life. She liked the outdoors, loved travelling, especially going on long road-trips. At the drop of a hat she was ready to accompany us on our many long distance road trips all over India. I especially remember as a child, how much I enjoyed the cycle rickshaw rides she took me on every evening.
As in health as in sickness, she was never a burden on anyone. Her spirit for life and her kindness towards everyone was such that even while she was seriously ill, she would ask about our health, and inquire about our day or whether we had eaten on time. She was a humorous and witty person, and despite her discomfort took part in and enjoyed all our chatter when we visited her at the hospital.
She was loved by one and all as was evident by all the well-wishers who came to meet her at the hospital. She was born in a large family and was the eldest of the many siblings she had. When she breathed her last, a few months shy of her 91st birthday, she was surrounded by all her children, grand-children, great grand-children and her sisters.
I miss her at all times, especially during this month of Ramzan, as I daily read the duas she helped me translate many years back. I can vividly remember that day, as if it was only yesterday. May she Rest in Peace and may Allah grant Heaven for my dear Vaaji. Ameen!
“When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure”.
Mrs Asma Hussain Mehdi- 21st November 1926 – 10th May, 2017
-Tamanna S. Mehdi