My Grandmother Taught Me Resilience.
Overcoming Hurt with the Power of Love and Wisdom
The other day I came across a post about how India is a beautiful country, full of different landscapes and cultures. From the high peaks of the Himalayas to the calm waters of Kerala, and from busy cities to quiet, small villages, India’s beauty is everywhere. The first thought I had on reading the article was of one of these small, scenic towns, surrounded by rivers and hills, where my grandmother lived. That place holds some of my fondest childhood memories.
My grandmother’s house was like a little paradise, especially because of her presence. The town, with its green fields, clear streams, and distant mountains, was where I felt at peace. Every summer holiday, I looked forward to visiting her, leaving behind the strict routines of boarding school for the warmth of my grandmother’s embrace.
I always complained about the schedules at school, especially the early wake-up time. However, I looked forward to waking up early with my grandmother. Her house was a place where I eagerly followed her every move. Waking up before sunrise wasn’t a chore but a joy, especially when it meant gathering flowers for her morning pooja. The quiet beauty of dawn, the soft light spreading across the sky, and the peaceful moments made me so happy.
Together, we made garlands from those flowers. The smell of the blooms mixed with the cool morning air, creating a memory I still cherish. A cold water shower followed, refreshing and invigorating, as I prepared to join my grandmother in her daily rituals. We would pray to the tulsi plant in her yard, walking in circles with our hands folded, and I would repeat the sacred mantras she recited.
The pooja room, with its many deities, was a place of spiritual comfort. The fragrance of sandalwood paste, the scent of incense sticks, and the sight of fresh flowers filled the room. I eagerly awaited the end of the pooja, knowing that a sweet prasad topped with a tulsi leaf was waiting for me. These nostalgic moments, such simple days, defined a significant part of my childhood.
My grandmother’s day was full of activity. From cooking delicious meals to ensuring our comfort, from cleaning to managing chores, she did it all with grace. Despite her busy schedule, she always found time for us, and I was her constant companion, learning from her every move. I sometimes wonder if I truly appreciated those times back then. I enjoyed them, but did I fully understand their significance?
My grandmother was always a pillar of strength and support in my life, teaching me many valuable lessons through her words and actions. But one particular summer day remains etched in my memory.
I was around ten years old, a chubby little girl who loved to play. That morning, I ran to the park with a heart full of excitement. But that day, things took a different turn.
As I played, a group of local kids started teasing me. “Look at the fat girl!” one of them shouted, pointing at me. The others joined in, laughing and making fun of my size. I tried to ignore them at first, but their words stung. They called me names and made cruel jokes about my weight. I felt my cheeks burning with shame and humiliation.
I couldn’t take it anymore. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I ran home as fast as my legs could carry me. Bursting through the door, I threw myself onto the bed and cried. The tears seemed endless.
My mother soon grew tired of my crying. After what seemed like an hour, she snapped, “Stop crying, will you? Enough is enough!” Her words cut through my sobs, but they didn’t stop the pain. I felt even more alone and misunderstood.
But then, my grandmother came into the room. She sat beside me, gently stroking my hair and whispering soothing words. “It’s okay, beta. Let it all out,” she said, her voice full of love and understanding. She didn’t rush me; she just stayed there, a comforting presence, until my sobs turned into sniffles.
After I had calmed down a bit, my grandmother lifted my chin and looked into my eyes. “You know, my dear, words can hurt, but they don’t define who you are,” she began. Her voice was gentle but firm. “Those kids don’t know the wonderful person you are. You are strong, kind, and beautiful in your own way.”
I listened, absorbing her words. She continued, “People will always have something to say. Sometimes it will be good, and sometimes it will be bad. But what truly matters is how you see yourself. You have to believe in your own worth, no matter what others say.”
Her words were a balm to my wounded heart. She spoke about resilience, though she didn’t use that word. She talked about the strength that comes from within, about facing challenges and standing tall despite the hurt. “Life will throw many things your way, beta. Some will be wonderful, and some will be tough. But you must always remember that you are strong enough to handle it all.”
We talked for a long time, and by the end of our conversation, I felt a new sense of calm. My grandmother’s words had given me a shield against the cruelty of the world. I realised that my self-worth wasn’t tied to what others thought of me. It was something I carried inside, something that couldn’t be taken away by unkind words or mocking laughter.
That day, my grandmother taught me the most important lesson of my life. She taught me to be resilient, to find strength in myself, and to rise above the hurtful words of others. And from that day on, I carried her wisdom with me, a constant reminder that I was stronger than I ever knew.
Resilience is the ability to bounce back from setbacks and stay positive despite challenges. In today’s fast-paced world, where even minor inconveniences can cause stress, resilience is more important than ever. It teaches us not to be bothered by small problems, not to complain about little things, but to face life’s challenges with courage and determination.
My grandmother may not have had fancy degrees or formal education, but she understood life deeply. Her experiences made her one of the wisest women I have ever known. She taught me that true education isn’t just about academic qualifications; it’s about applying our learning and values in daily life. And for that, I am eternally grateful.
Thanks for reading. :)
