In tribute to a remarkable lady

I’m a big girl now. That’s what everybody’s been saying. But as I talk about my grandma here, in my hearts it’s the same love I recall she gave me as a child. In my memories I’m still the carefree child I used to be. Running around the house and giving everybody chaos. My grandma is the greatest lady of my life. It’s her milk flowing in my veins. Her own son (my uncle) only two months elder to me shared my early days. I remember the times I spent as a child in my grandma’s house at the countryside. The slopes and the fields, the trees and rivers. One could feel at heaven there. The hide and seek played on the trees, carved stone toys played on the slopes along with my uncles and the other children. Our mischievous acts when we were left alone at the house while the others went to the fields. The times when we used to sneak into the vegetable garden and plucked all the fruits growing there and ate. The hill just above our house where there was a tree was our favourite place to play. That also gave a breath taking view of the sun loosing its powerful rays. And as darkness unfolded its covers we sat around the fire and it was time for stories. I knew all the stories of the Nepali book of the senior level when I was in the primary level. My grand ma a remarkable lady who always found a way to light people’s hearts and she was treasured with mines of love which were open for everyone. She never sent a person empty handed from her steps. She always found the right things to give it to the right people. Looking back at my  childhood days I indeed feel a grown up. And others might find me talking of my grandma a bit awkward. But it’s the thought that counts. It’s the love that matters. And I used to love her and will always love her. Death is reality. A person brings his death along with him when he is borne. He lives with the fact that one day he’ll die. And all the loving people will cry. But when my grandma died I could not even cry. The tears would just not come. Even the tears believed that she’s not dead. And how could I cry over a person who is not dead? And I still believe that she’s not dead. When some day I’ll visit her in her country house she’ll be there and she’ll beam at me and say my beloved granddaughter has come. All in vain. I know death is a reality, One day I’ll also die but still why do I find hard to believe that she’s not alive? Why do I feel as if she’s living there? And indeed she is living. She is not dead after all. She’s alive in my dreams, in my heart, in my memories and in my love. She is living a life after death in my heart. It’s already been one year that she passed away. I know she’s happy cause
she’s with grandpa. My beloved grandpa on whose lap I grew up, and from whom I learned to sing. I was only just overcoming the pain of grandpa’s loss when grandma went away. Why after all God seized my both grandparents at such an early period? When I see other people’s grandparents still alive then somewhere I get jealous. Jealous not for the love but for the happiness and the company they are still enjoying. I crave for their love again even though I know they still love me. When I see them in my dreams I am again the same old happy child with her carefree days and listening stories in her grandpa’s lap. If there is anything I’d want to bring back then it’s those days and my grandparents. They were good people and there is a saying that there is always lack of good people in heaven. But still I think what would have cost him (God) if he had spared few more years to them and to me. I miss them so much. And I always have this feeling I don’t know what it is. I just feel it. Maybe it’s the emptiness I feel inside. But since the emptiness is now been poured into words I feel less sad. And maybe for once and all eyes wouldn’t threat me to shower the tears whenever I think about them. And today as I write about them for all to read I pray for their souls to rest in peace. May I find them as my grandparents again in my next birth if such things like rebirth really exist. Even though it does not exist I will meet them one fine morning …………yes on that morning……………when this life of mine will be over………………….

(In commemoration of my beloved grandma Chandra Kala on her first death anniversary)

By :- Amvika Chhetry
E-mail :- ladyambika@hotmail.com

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