It Was My Grandmother’s 5th Death Anniversary
And I remembered when she sent me a message through the flowers
I went for a walk downstairs to calm my senses after a busy day at work. The evening sky was a vivid peach & orange. Little children were running around in circles and building sand castles. Some were dexterously skating on their rollerblades in a straight line, all in sync. A group of toddlers were coming back from their craft class, wearing adorable paper crowns with a smiley face at the front and the band strung with hearts. A squad of young girls wearing hairbands & ponytails were twirling around the merry-go-round.
I watched them joyfully rushing into their parents’ arms, who were returning from work. A sense of nostalgia brimmed within me with flashbacks of my childhood, playing with friends. Games that we had inherited and passed on to the next generation of kids in our society.
Life was simple then. I was a devoted student, always excelling in Academics. My parents used to keep my trophies in the glass showcase at home. Laurels shining as much as the pride on their faces. However, the trophies seemed hollow to me. Grades didn’t give me true happiness. Yet, I kept studying & persevering to be the class topper. I didn’t know what else to do.
A couple of girls dribbling their basketballs brought me back to the present moment. I brushed my thoughts away and repeated my affirmations. I trust the process. I am strong and brave. I accept myself like I would accept a flower & admire its beauty in full bloom, spreading its fragrance, with petals in hues of fuchsia and lavender rimmed with symmetric white patterns.
I was watching this girl with a high ponytail tucked into a braid. It reminded me of my grandmother. She used to tie and pleat my hair in the same way. Every moment passes and becomes a memory. It then struck me that it had been five years that day since she had returned to the stars.
I miss her and her little rituals, like offering nine bowls of prasad to God. She was extremely passionate and devoted to her Gods. She loved nature. She would ask me to collect white flowers from our backyard to decorate her temple. She was a sucker for homemade remedies for cough, cold, strength and beauty. She would often make this besan atta ubtan, a kind of homemade ayurvedic scrub to clean her skin rigorously. It was satisfying to see one’s dead skin cells coming off. She prepared these homemade concoctions to treat colds and coughs made of honey, ginger, pepper, and basil leaves.
As a child and teen, I used to be perpetually engrossed in my studies. Maybe I didn’t spend enough time with her to understand her story. She got married at a young age (pre-menarche). It must have been scary. She endured, had five children, and lost one at childbirth. Suppressed by society initially, she grew melodramatic later in life. Her loud voice & emotions scared me at times.
With tears in my eyes, I instituted a ritual of looking at the flowers and feeling her smiling through them like silk scarves on a girl’s head fluttering in the wind. I could feel her presence. I thanked her for her blessings & asked for forgiveness if I had inadvertently hurt her. I promised her to be my authentic self and worship the divine feminine within me. Be sexy and raw the way she was.
While writing this, a wave of emotions swept over me. I found these words coming out of my pen effortlessly.
“Nishtha, do your best to carry forward the rituals of your new home after marriage. You are the Lakshmi of this home. Document them, if needed. Embrace the traditions without judging them. Make them yours by adding your logic and meaning to them. Always be curious. You have another chance. Be assertive. Question what does not resonate with you. The divine grace is with you. These are all ways to go deeper and connect with yourself. Be strong and fierce like Durga, wise & knowledgeable like Saraswati, and a beautiful wife like Parvati, supporting your husband, your Shiva. Hand in hand. Mother Earth is always protecting and replenishing you with energy.”
I then understood my restlessness. My grandmother had been trying to catch my attention, asking me to slow down.
Be sensitive to signals. Listen to the quiet voice within. Trust the process. I was so grateful to have had this experience.
Thank you, Universe.
Have you ever been contacted by your loved ones from other realms? How was your experience? Let me know in the comments below.
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