A Day In With Dhadi Ammi

On 24th November 2017, my dear grandma — my father’s mother, returned to her Lord at the age of 91 years. She was so loved to many, and proof was that was the amount of people who travelled from far and wide to attend her Janazah.

One trait that stood out amongst all the others, was her generosity. Her name was Karam, and I truly believe she embodied that throughout her life — with her family and friends and even strangers.

I am blessed to have known her and to have called her my, ‘Dhadi.’ I’m also blessed that my baby, her great grand child, had the pleasure of meeting her, feeling her soft, wrinkly skin and spending time with a person so dear to me, to us.

This poem is inspired by her, for her. And for all grandmothers everywhere whom forever carry a special place in our hearts ❤

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Today, I am off on adventure.

Because I am going to visit my Dhadi Ammi.

I pack my bag and put on my shoes. I’m getting late, I must spree!

Knock, knock, once, twice, the Sunnah is three.

Oh, there’s grandma, as happy as can be!

“Assalaamua alaykum, Dhadi jee!”

Walakum salaam, Yusufi!”

I grab her hand and walk her back.

“Please, don’t walk alone again, your back will crack!”

She chuckles, then sits me down, hugs me tight and pecks my cheek.

I hug her back, I’ve missed her all week!

So now is when the adventure will begin.

Stories, tea, board games… though, I always win!

“Yousufi, yousufi, I spy with my eye, something blue, big and bright.”

I think hard but there’s nothing blue in sight.

“One, two, three…” She count down in Urdu, then panic strikes.

“Sky!” I shout. But I am out of time, yikes!

We both giggle and now it is time for tea.

“Sit, grandma, today let me.”

Together we eat and talk about stories of the old.

Grandma tells me about all things untold.

How she’d be scared as a child when she’d spot a snake,

But she was more scared if it was fake!

So, brave Dhadi would grab a twig or two

And in an instance it would be out of view!

Soon, it’s time for Dhadi to sleep,

She’s tired and so I tell her to count sheep.

Soon later, she awakes to pray,

Her prayer she would never leave, whatever come may.

I put out her chair and a prayer mat too,

After prayer, we play peek-a-boo

Now, its medicine time so I take them out of the box,

She feels cold now, so I grab her some fluffy socks.

Yousufi, my yousufi, may Allah bless you.

With tears in her eyes she says time flew.

You were just a small boy, and now you are seven,

Soon you’ll be 9, then 10 and 11!

I grab her hand, it’s soft and wrinkly.

“Dhadi jee, why is your skin so stretchy?”

She tells me this is what happens when people grow old,

“Dhadi, does that mean you will also go bold?”

She laughs and laughs, then says, “Don’t worry!”

Look, it’s grey, can you see?

I feel her hair, it is long and grey,

“But why, dhadi do you keep it hiddn away?”

“You see as Muslim, we are taught modesty…

My hair is only for a few to see.”

It is soon time to go home, but before then we must eat,

There will be spicy but also sweet.

Ami, Abi and our cousins join in the feast,

“Please, don’t leave without eating, have some kebabs at least!”

Dhadi always loves to feed, family, friends and even the needy,

She taught me to love, to care and to never be greedy.

It’s home time, but before I leave the door,

Dhadi takes something out of her bedside drawer,

“It’s a jumper” she says, “Handknitted for you”

“JazakAllah khair, Dhadi! I love the blue.”

We kiss goodbye and I tell her she’s the best,

“You’re the best grandma in all the world, east or west.”

On my way home, I think of our day,

I wouldn’t want my Dhadi any other way.