Some people. Some memories

The month of love. This one's dedicated to the little void one left in me, now for many years. My grandmother (Hindi-Nani, Bengali-Didu)

Some people become so intricately tangled with life, their own existence can never be forgotten, their absence creates a permanent void. Them we will always miss....or what we could say 'I'm missing a part of my soul'

My grandmother was that person. She came from extremely humble backgrounds and yet her thoughts in terms of social discrimination were richer than many well read scholars (personal data set). Her food was beyond perfect and her ability to give was beyond comprehension. As children, she became an intricate part of our lives. The two siblings we were, fought, ate, ran and grew up on her courtyard.

Like every other void in life, she was that which didn't take us by surprise but taught me to take life seriously. My little niece (5years) stood at her sick bedside and I hung on to her. This was it....my world had come tumbling down and in a rare few seconds I could see all of the people I loved going down the same way. The thing about death is it shows us humans how petty we really are. Nothing could save our little magical grandmother. And the void grew deeper with time.

Sometimes we forget but when I hear of something that reminds me of her, it really does bring back that void. In memory of my little golden grandmother, I hope there are more people like her.