140. Nani: I love you!

Tirus just got back from a holiday at my parents’ place. He told me that he had the most exciting and adventurous time ever at his grand-parents’ home (that’s his version every time he goes to stay there). He would wake up late, brush, then sit quietly in the veranda, while sipping a cup of warm milk Mom would have got him and stare dreamily into space (forever!), till Mom called him for breakfast. His excitement knows no bounds as his Nani prepares something special for him every day and for each meal (chicken roast being his favourite!). And then, after breakfast, it’s either watering the plants, just running around the whole house and also standing below the trees in the backyard to see how many mangoes have ripened, looking at birds his Nana would be showing or just quietly sitting in a corner of the house and colouring away or playing his video game. In between all this, Nani would call him to see how she’s going about with a recipe.  And all the while, he would be smothered with endless love from his Nani, who constantly kept a watchful eye on her grandson lest he got hurt, or an insect bit him or if he was having his juice on time. And Tirus would reciprocate by hugging his Nani around the waist while she was working. Tirus extended his holiday by calling me up every day for several days and saying, “Mom, can I stay back today too, please?”

Flashback to Nagaon, several years ago, when I was a little girl! Every winter holidays, Mom, Dad and I would travel to my Nani’s place from Guwahati. I never got to see Nana and I really miss him when Mom used to tell me about what a loving person he was. I wished then that I met him. We would have had so much fun! Anyway, but Nani was great! I remember the first thing she would do when I ran through the red-floored living room, the dining room and then the long cemented veranda, was to hug me close to her and kiss me on my cheeks and mumble a blessing. And I would keep hugging her for a while and feel the warmth of her body, which would be draped around in a white cotton mekhela-sador (the traditional two-piece Assamese ensemble). And after that, it would be just gay abandon. My cousins would come over and we would run around like crazy in the huge compound. We would play hide-n-seek, robbers and policeman, marbles, cricket and what not. We would eat freshly picked berries while we sat on the steps of the veranda. There would be endless stories we would share about school, friends, studies, art and lots more. And all the while Nani had only one thing in mind; what to cook for us. She would come up with the most deliciously prepared meals for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I especially remember her pounded rice cakes cooked in an earthen pan over a fairly huge fire of her artistically crafted double stove moulded out of clay. The crunchy rice cakes would again be intricately laced on the sides with animals and birds, which Nani would deftly design with the swift movement of her hands, while she poured the batter into the pan. And when she put the piping hot rice cakes on my plate, I would be over the moon to see different shapes of animals. This again she served with clarified butter and sugar. What a heavenly taste! I have never really got over that special breakfast and I still look for Nani’s magic if perchance I get to eat rice cakes anywhere. But no one and nothing can replace what she gave me. Nani gave me endless amounts of love; memories I still cherish and hold close to my heart just like I want Tirus to have memories of his Nani!