We don’t deserve her
looking outside the window is my grandmother , her failed body wrapped around her in saree.
Her beautiful blueish- grey eyes looking outside the window ( the light in them has gone away, replaced by tint of loneliness, nostalgia and longing glowering in them)
she follows this routine everyday – getting up, eating her breakfast – skipping to most of the times,
she takes place by the window- a spot just reserved for her.
the scenery in front of me is of cars, green luscious trees, our very own plants and at some hours of days- passerbys, hawkers selling fruits
Old aunties and uncles taking walks, group of kids cycling away and people returning back to their homes.
Thats what i see
But for some reason when i see her- i think she sees all the days that have gone by
she sees her grown up, the pranks she played on her sisters, the galliyans where she played games,
the lessons she learnt from her mother, the imlis her father got for her knowing fully well how much she loved them
The day she had to leave her for now the country had changed and her home was no longer her home.
Her first home, her school, the peers with whom she plucked the mangoes with
She sees the day she got married,thrown into a new city, a new world
Discovering herself once again but this time with someone to hold onto
She sees them building their home togethere, finding herself a love in her own way with the gentleness she never knew could exist in a man.
She sees them having their first child, loving some small bean with their entire heart.
She sees her companionship being transformed into a family with arrival of every child
she sees the past of her children- the day they were born, when they said their first words, when they broke the achar bottles she was storing
She sees them being sent of to school in their uniforms, their prepeartiom for upcoming exams, their mischievous demand,
them forming an alliance amongst each other to save the other pose from getting a scolding.
she sees them in that house she and her lifelong partner built saving every penny for when the times were tough.
she sees the times she would walk with them to their schools, churches, playgrounds- their sunday outings.
she sees them growing up and taking charge- helping her out at every nook and corner- taking up odd jobs
she sees their weddings – every guest list checked twice, every arrangement to make the guest comfortable, every booking, flower arrangement, jewellery boxes, the light the house had not by the contractor but the laughter that took place when the entire family got together.
she sees her first grandchild being born- the seer joy that overcame her – the overwhelming love she felt all over again and this time more.
she sees her grandchild looking up in sheer wonderment and those eyes that ignites love to her bones in her.
she sees herself growing once again – when she has to pack those tiffin boxes, when she gets her grandchildren dressed and ready for their school – she is young once again.
she sees herself on those walks in the parks with them – playing with them, scolding them a bit and being concerned that they might be shining a bit too high.
she sees her entire family gathered together for celebrations – the entire house sounding like a fish market, with jokes being shared among the dads, the kids fighting for the tv remote, moms arranging fir the pooja thalis and her looking over the kitchen counter.
Those noises rising loud and clear in her eyes.
When i see her staring out the window i hope that this is all she sees.
For a part of me wants her to relve in her nostalgia over being in her reality.
For i feel she sees my grandfather’s last words
she sees her leaving the home she and her husband had built in 30 years of their companionship
she sees that the phone hasn’t rung in days for a check in from her kids
she sees her grandkids going to their respective rooms – involved with their technological pieces
sending out laughter emojis, making plans with their friends , going out and just saying a word or two to her for the entire day (not now , got some work to do, later)
she sees through the windows- that the days and nights going by and her longing remaining just the same.
she sees now at the gathering- cameras being clicked, few words being exchanged, herself sitting i the corner and taking it al;l in- for now she’s not a participant in their lives
she’s an observer.
As i see her staring outside the window i know that none of us deserve her – for her entire life she was the love of our lives- always finding it in herself to love and love more- while we were parasitic to her love- we sucked her out of it – we grew out of it and moved o in our lives and she still lives through from us.
Nowadays seeking pleasure at the seat reserved for her by the window.
thatdorkygirl 