In your memory Dadi

Vasundhara Mishra
Jul 21, 2017 · 3 min read

You cannot really recall your first memory of your grandparents. Like you cant remember your parent’s or siblings first memory, because they were always there, right from the beginning. Maybe they were the first few faces you saw when you got welcomed into this world. Yet, you don’t have as many memories of them with you as you should have. Probably because when you turn old memories fade. But some of them do get stuck to your brain cells.

My best memory of my Dadi was when she used to hug me. A big warm dadi hug with her scent. She never used any artifical perfumes but she always smelled of her Dabur amla oil in her hair, Lux soap from her bath and washing powder in which she washed her soft cotton sarees. Mostly chicken cotton sarees.

I remember she used to keep her cosmetics in a medium sized square tin box. Every evening she used to get ready.Not for any particular occasion but that was her routine.After her afternoon nap she would get up, wash her face, open her tin cosmetic box, comb her hair, put Vicco turmeric cream and ponds powder on her face, drew her eyebrows from small sharpened eyebrow pencil and put glossy lipstick. She had only 1 lipstick and out of all her products lipstick dazzled me the most. It had black body and inside it was bright orange, it looked liked a candy and smelled juicy. But once you applied it, it came out as a transparent gloss.Like a lip balm, but in a body of lipstick.

Once while I was a kid, me and my elder brother went to our grandparents place in summer vacations for 10 days. I still remember her waking me up early 6'o clock in morning, make me bathe and then read Ramayana sitting next to her. She would give me a side glance and smile with pride.

Her cooking included the rural’s delicacies of India including ‘Pancharatn ate ki roti’(chapati made of 5 flours) various saag and what not.

I also accompanied her during her morning walks where she would meet her friends midways and proudly introduce me as ‘Dinesh ki beti’ (Dinesh’s daughter).Dinesh being my dad’s name. I always loved that introduction of mine. Felt kind of accomplished I don’t know why.

As elder she would still hug me the same way like I am her little daughter. She loved my hand cooked food for her. Specially my Paneer and Bhindi vegetables.Lately she had developed a new fondness for sweets and special delicacies and she would eat it all with her heart’s content like a happy kid.

She was very particular of her belongings. She didn’t like many people using her stuff but only dear ones.

My best last memory of her was when i was going back after meeting her.She stood on balcony, it was dawn, hardly anything was visible for her yet she waved at me from there.In the wrong direction although, but she waived until she assumed I am out of sight

I wanted to meet her while she was in hospital but i couldn’t be there with her. This corporate wheel kept turning me around and I kept moving with it without realizing that I might never see her again. This would be biggest guilt of my Life. I am sorry Dadi

So why am I writing this down??

Because she was my Dadi and I still don’t have many many memories of her and whatever beautiful memories I have I don’t want them to get hazed with time.

So this is for you Dadi. You were my mischievous Dadi and I would never ever forget you.

Rest in Peace.

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