It’s February, woohoo! I think it’s a great sign that the month has started off with a weekend. Hopefully this means the month passes by really quickly. I’m starting to find that there’s a lot less happening in my life that I like reporting on my blog – it’s tough to find content. Which is why I’m very grateful that my grandmother calls me once a week. There’s always some content there.
As a child I fought a lot with my grandmother. I don’t know what it was – I do really love her to bits, but man, my maternal grandmother used to set off something in me that made me fight with her everytime I was on holiday. I think it was largely because she wanted me to stop watching as much TV as I did, or actually wear clothes different to the clothes I was donning at the time. I also fought with her over mundane things that spoilt NRI kids fought about: the curd was sour, the rasam didn’t have floating tomatoes, the water was too hot and not lukewarm for bathing, the toilets were dirty, cockroaches were everywhere, I was scared of the dark, the list is endless.
She once laughed at me when I fell on my butt because I thought there was a chair when I was trying to sit. Turns out, there was no chair, and I went flat onto the ground. Once, I was rocking a Paragon plastic chair back and forth, and fell, hitting my head against the wooden railing of the sofa in the house. Both times, she laughed. I was crying, and amidst my tears, remember yelling “What is there to laugh?” – something both my grandparents sing out everytime I laugh at something.
Man, but each time I yelled at her, she took with some grace. As if she knew all of this was me just being bratty. As I grew up, I stopped fighting with her, and I started using humour as a response to her very mundane questions. Every time we speak for example, she asks me about the weather, and offers a fashion tip based on the weather. So, today, the conversation was:
Is it still cold there?
Yeah, it’s pretty cold. The weather isn’t improving.
Oh, that’s sad. I hope you have enough warm clothes.
Yeah, I do.
Wear those warm clothes okay? Ensure you drink only warm drinks.
No, I’m roaming around in shorts and will drink Coca-Cola, thank you for your blessings.
Why I do this?
I’m uncertain. But it’s largely because she tells me the same thing every single time we talk.
She also enquires about whether I’ve started studying for my midterms, which are one month away. (I have not)
And this gets to me really fast – so I always respond with humour.
But I know she comes from a good place. The concern in her voice and the kindness of her heart is something I’ll admire forever.
Also, get this. She’s been telling my mom to tell me to write about her. Because she’s one of the only relatives who reads this blog religiously who doesn’t have her own post.
Here’s your post, Ajji. Hope you liked it.
I’ll go back to wearing shorts now.
1 thought on “2019: Thirty-Three”
Last line is the punch