Paati, in Tamil, means grandmother. Like everybody else, I also have grandmothers. So, whats new about it, right?
Both my grandmothers are 94 years old. They both are poles apart. While the maternal one is very mild, the paternal one is quite wild. I guess I have inherited most of my genes from the wild one… 🙂
My dad’s mom, popularly known as Kaashi Paati, has been a seasonal visitor to our house since I remember. Having lost her husband at a very young age, she migrated to Varanasi and chose to live as Sanyaasi and would come to Delhi sometimes. She wears those fawn-coloured sarees which would cover over her shaved head.
During our childhood days, many summer vacations for me and my brother were spent in Varanasi. She had a room in a Mutt there in Hanuman Ghat. With no Television, and the only source of entertainment being the Ganges and temples, we would sit on the banks of Ganges for hours, watching people doing pujas on the river, taking holy dips, the aarti, cremations and funeral pyres on Harishchandra Ghat, dead bodies being carried over by relatives and foreigners wandering nearby, wearing colourful clothes, in search of spiritual peace and space.
We would visit the Kedaresh temple after that and then head back home. The galis/alleys in Varanasi would be very narrow and humans and cattle walked within that space and we would somehow make our way home without hitting anything, like a maze..
Paati was usually very nice with us when we visited her in Varanasi and would cook a variety of dishes for us. I remember once having asked for Samosas and a short afternoon nap later found a plate of samosas in front of me. And, she is a great cook. She used to make a living by cooking when my dad and his brother, sister were young.
It is difficult to imagine how she would have been when she was young. Since I have known her, she has always been very strict and her visits to our house in Delhi would invoke fear and terror. She has hardened over her lifetime, I guess, having lost her husband very early. The food prepared at home during her visits would be completely Saatvik, without onions. And, there will be a lot of madi-aacharam to be followed whenever she came. One had to wash hands after touching rice and those difficult days in the months would become even more painful, with a deferential treatment given. The papads would be thrown from a distance of 20 metres, but it would land exactly on the plate. 🙂 She must have been a rocket-scientist in her previous life. 🙂
Myself and my brother were forced to play a game called ‘Sonaal Paanaal’ with her, which was played with the help of sea-shells and the game itself was drawn on the floor with the help of chalks. It was her proprietary game and I doubt if anybody else has even heard of it.. 🙂 The game would go in good spirits till she was winning.. At the first sign of her losing, she would start shouting and creating fuss.. Haaa.. haaa.. so, if we had to please her, we would play the game with her and make sure that she won.. :-). Even now, when I play Ludo with my kids, I think of her.
Now, at the age of 94, she is still quite active and agile and gives me a complex.. She stayed with me for a couple of weeks 2 years back and made me prepare cheedais, vadaams etc.. Her energy source never gets depleted.. :-). With a vision re-altered with the help of cataract operations, she manages to sit in the room in such an angle that she gets a good view of what’s happening in the kitchen. Though she eats only a spoonful of food, she makes sure that Amma prepares everything to perfection.
Even at this age, she shuttles between Varanasi and Delhi. As soon as the temperature in the house heats up and things start boiling over, she moves over to Varanasi and as soon as she feels tired managing on her own there, she comes back again. What keeps her going is her self-confidence and a fiercely independent streak.
That is my Paati…. And, she is still going strong…
After writing this post, my Paati fell down and broke her hip-bone and her long journey came to an end on June 26, 2013. 🙁
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