Written by URVASHI DHASMANA
Whenever I think about a well-lived life, I immediately think of my grandmother who passed away in October 2020. When the whole world was buried under covid pandemic, there she was peacefully living under the stars in the beautiful valley on the foothills of the Himalayas, Dehradun.
She was one of her kind, so ahead of her time and era, yet wrapped in the cloak of traditions and culture.
Born in early 1920s, she has witnessed the hardships of British slavery, the call for independence, young independent India and what not. She used to tell me stories all the time but the best ones were the ones where I learnt how my sweet, calm and composed granny unraveled the change from a 15 year girl to a married one in 16, how she handled 6 kids on her own? How was married life when she first saw my grandpa’s face the next day after the wedding? I can’t even imagine that one.
My grandfather was in the government sector, so she walked by him from place to place keeping that little smile on her face and when he passed away after a few decades, she single-handedly settled her children, got them married and then helped raise her grandkids, but never did she compromise on anything. She roams around the whole country, be it Vaishno Devi in J&K or Rameswaram in Tamil Nadu.
She took her first flight back in 2012 to Nagaland to meet my cousin. She was full of life.
When my mother wanted me to wear a suit for a family function, she was the one who got me a western dress and told me that I’m not that old to wear a suit yet. I still miss our scooty rides to the “chaat wali gali’ for our munching time. When the whole world was fighting over INDIA-PAKISTAN or HINDU-MUSLIM, she went out of her way to get her brother-in-law married to the love of her life, a south-indian christian.
There are many events that make me relive all the moments I shared with her, and as each day passes by I feel blessed that I am her granddaughter and she will always be my NIKKI BOBO.
