Vaishutai

Again a story told and retold. My grandmother Aaji had given Deepali who was born a nice bath, and an oil massage. Vaishutai was ready for school, and was waiting for her school ride. Vaishutai wanted to hold Deepali, and Aaji let her. And Aaji also playfully told baby Deepali to poop. Baby Deepali apparently did so (no diaper in those days), and Vaishutai had to change and bathe and was late for school. This was ofcourse lovingly told, and laughed about.

 I had a very hard time penning down all my memories back in 2020. And so I decided to stop writing. As Vaishutai's 2nd death anniversary approaches, I find myself teary-eyed again. Will this grief ever lessen? The last couple of years of her life after her kids went off to college, Vaishutai had more time to chat with me. She would patiently hear out all my woes about friends, cooking mishaps, kids, work stress. She always was a good listener. And she always in her calm voice would say, "Its ok, Manali, really everything will be fine". After the phone call, I would realize that my problems were so trivial compared to hers. I would get into a dark depression. I would feel helpless, and feel terribly sad for her. I really didn't want her to die.  Once I remember, she told me how she was cleaning out her closet, her work clothes, because she was not going to need those clothes anymore. It was as if she was closing chapters of her life. It was as if she knew she wasn...

     Around January of this year, Vaishutai told me to watch a Pakistani serial - Be Intehaa. After our conversation, I started watching it. After a couple of episodes where I see the guy stalking the girl, I stopped watching it. Most desi tv-series/movies romanticize stalking, and it really bothers me. As a girl growing up in India, having experienced some parts of it, it is an absolute no-no for me. I told Vaishutai, that the series is not like Zindagi Gulzar Hai or Humsafar, and that I didn't like it much. I told her the stalking bothered me a lot. Vaishutai told me to watch the series, as she said it gets better.      I didn't have time to give the series one more chance. Post corona, and post her death, I increasingly kept thinking about the tv-series. I started watching the tv-series recently, and after every episode shed a few tears at the missed opportunity of discussing the show with her. I still didn't like the romance angle much, but watched it b...

Both Deepali and I were early bikers. Vaishutai taught Deepali how to bike and Deepali taught me how to bike. I started biking, in Junior KG. I remember, because Vaishutai would always remind me the timeline. She started biking after 5th grade, so Deepali was in 1st grade, and pretty much after Deepali started biking, I insisted that Deepali teach me to bike as well.  I clearly remember how I didn't know how to start on the bike, and so Deepali told me to use a curbside "Otlo" to help me start. Also, how I would stop by just flinging myself in a pile of sand. My feet would not touch the ground, and so this is how I learnt. So when I got to 1st grade, I insisted that I too should bike to school like my sisters. I remember how apprehensive my mom was. I was given lots of instructions at home, and when we left the society, Vaishutai took over. I was to be in the middle, Deepali was to be towards the curb and Vaishutai was to be closer to the traffic. Early 80s we c...

My earliest memories of my childhood, are just fleeting memories, just the hustle and bustle of a busy, loud and loving family. Aaji, usually on her bed which was in the dining room, and she had a vantage point everywhere in the house, or outside on the jhopala. Aai either in the kitchen, or reading a book in the living room. And my earliest memories of Baba are him telling us bed-time Jami stories, or me going for a haircut with him. I don't really remember Deepali or Vaishutai or what they used to do. I do however remember playing with Shayu a lot. One day, Shayu and I were playing "ghar-ghar" under the dining table. She had a nook, and I had a nook. And we were going on with our play, oblivious to who was around us or listening to us. Vaishutai was sitting in the same room doing her homework. She was on the floor, with a make-shift desk and studying. And she called out to me and Shayu, and asked us to go get some "mamre" from the kitchen and water, and tol...

I cannot go in chronological order. That's not how my memory works. I was at Vaishutai's house in September, 2019. Spent 4 days at her house, just chatting. One of the conversations that I remember is Vaishutai telling me how after her first cancer diagnosis, she would go to parties and some of her acquaintances would come to her, and talk to her in a very serious voice or rather a hushed tone, and check on how she was doing. They would also continue being serious and say how sorry they were to hear about her diagnosis. Vaishutai would say, "Please don't be sorry, I am quite fine". She hated being pitied. As I am battling with my grief, I find myself being just like her. Really, I don't want anyone to be sorry for me. We have had so many heart-to-heart conversations, uncannily we know how each of us will react or say. The five of us, and us 3 sisters, have an unbreakable bond. How can death take that bond away? I don't think it is possible. I can ...

Again another story retold multiple times. My mom was a tiger mom. However she met her match with a tiger-cub, my eldest sister. When Vaishutai was in the 2nd or 3rd grade, Aai made her write an essay 20 times. The essay if I recall was about "A parrot" -- don't know who I can check with about this b'coz Vaishutai was the one who remembered everything. My mom's mantra has always been "do your best work, and work hard". My mom after having prepared her first born thus, was very satisfied and waited eagerly for her to come back after the exam. Vaishutai came back from the exams and my mom was thrilled to see that the essay they had practiced was indeed one of the options for essay-writing. However, to my mom's chagrin, Vaishutai wrote a different essay in the exam and not the one that they had prepared. Also Vaishutai was fearless enough to tell her so. My shocked mom asked her, "Why did you write a different essay?". Vaishutai respond...