Love That Transcends Death: My Grandmother

She fell, they said And hit her head Passed into a coma Might not wake up. But in those clutching Arthritic fingers She held two rupees “Its for Suma,’ She had said, “It’s her birthday Next week, And this money I saved Must be given to the Temple So that the priest Can pray for blessings For her, All lifelong.”

It took a lot of time A lot of tears And a lot of agony To prise that out Of her fingers, With anxious looks at her face And the hopeful eyes of her daughters And the youngest daughter My mother, Who returned home to Cochin after two days Drained, pained, prayerful Because she had to go to work, And they wouldn’t give her more ‘leave’ To stay beside her mother.

She looked at me curiously Wondering why I didn’t cry She shook her head at my lack of love And no doubt called me ‘ingrate’ In her heart.

But I can’t cry Like other people seem to be able to The sadder I am, The more my tears draw in And refuse to flow It is an affliction, I suppose.

Out of all her children And the entire brood Of grandchildren It was me my grandma Loved the most Me she waited for, During my school, college And university vacation.

I was the only one Who could persuade her To eat, when she was refusing to, Angry because things didn’t Go her way. Oh, she could be a tyrant A termagant, it is true And she used her tongue To deadly effect Shrivelling friendly overtures And those who made them When the mood took her.

I loved her And admired her, My mother knew it I knew it, Why couldn’t I cry, then?

She stayed alive, my gran Until the day after my birthday And then she passed “Don’t you want to look at her,” My mother asked As my gran lay covered in white before the funeral. “No,” I said, “I would rather remember her The way she was When she was alive.” I heard the collective gasp From all the women gathered there Women were NOT supposed To state their views so firmly Or be ‘disobedient’ “too much education.” I heard the murmur going around From perfect strangers Who were crying their eyes out Though they scarcely knew My grandmother

And still, I couldn’t cry.

The tears came a week later When I was alone at night And then the dam broke As memories came rushing in, Invading my mind, Conquering my head and heart, Grief so powerful and invasive, That it still sends cold fingers Into my heart to this day.

For my grandmother Was someone who understood me Without the necessity of words I could sit beside her My heart agonised Through each barrage Of teenage trauma, And I would be miraculously lighter, After she held me to her And patted my back Or sat behind me And painstakingly and painlessly Undid the tangles in my unruly Tangled, curly hair And massaged coconut oil Into my scalp

She whispers to me still, “Don’t be afraid. I am with you Always, and forever.”

And she is.

©️ 2022 Suma Narayan. All Rights Reserved.

This is a response to a prompt by KSHernandez in this touching portrait of her grandmother:

Thank you for inviting me to be part of this beautiful exercise, KSHernandez.