Goodbye My Sweet Ammumma

I was four years old, when I was diagnosed with acute bronchial asthma. Frequent trips to the hospital with needles shoved up all over my body, soon became a part of my life. Sleeping on the hospital bed especially at night was painful because my arm had to be raised with tubes running down them. Daytime was better. I ran around the hospital beds and made friends with the nurses.

But everytime the strict doctor uncle came on rounds, I had to go back to bed. This was my life. A week at La Martiniere School for Girls, Calcutta and one week in the hospital. I hated school more than the hospital though.

The doctor advised my parents to send me away to a less polluted city. The Calcutta air didn't want to become friends with my lungs. So I was booted off to Trivandrum, to stay with my grandparents. It was a tough decision for my parents, but one they had to make, as my father was in the Army and transferred to a new city once every two years. My brother went to eight schools in seven cities. Needless to say, he was the more extroverted one growing up.

My initial few months in Trivandrum were not rosy. I deeply missed my parents. Most nights I would wake up crying and request my grandmother to turn on a cassette with my favourite nursery rhymes. The minute the first rhyme came on the stereo, I would get more hysterical. My grandparents pampered me endlessly, so that I would miss my parents a little less. Slowly and steadily it worked. My evenings were filled with one new toy a day purchased dutifully by my grandfather's sister. And my grandparents stuffed me silly with icecreams, egg puffs, medu vadas, chicken cutlets and a wide variety of fish.

My grandfather dropped me to school every morning. My fear of schools still hadn't left me. I would cry until i reached my classroom door, holding onto my grandfather's pinkie in one hand and his handkerchief in the other. After i snorted out all my nose bogey into his hankie, I would bid him farewell. My favourite part of the day was when school ended, so that I could bully my grandparents. My grandfather would wait to eat the remnants of my lunchbox and my grandmother would stuff me silly with food.

I called myself the princess of Hemagiri (the name of the house my grandparents lived in) with a self made stainless steel crown. Ammumma was the stricter one, she made sure I did my homework before running off to play. She put me to sleep at night, she got me ready for school. She was my mother for six years, until one day my father got posted to Chennai and my parents decided to take me back with them. I once again felt the earth slipping under my feet. I didn't want to leave my grandparents.

I remember clinging on to my grandmother for dear life, as my parents packed my bags and waited in the car for me. She hugged me back and whispered, "I'll always be with you mole. All children must live with their parents."

From sleeping between my grandparents till I was ten, I was suddenly given a room to myself in Chennai. I felt lost and alone. I would stand outside the balcony of my room at night and whisper "Ammumma, Appuppa", into the starry night.

Summer vacations were always spent in Kerala. I would stay with both sets of grandparents - paternal and maternal. My grandmother died yesterday. It didn't sink in for about two hours, until I finally saw her lying peacefully in a wooden box, covered in a beautiful white saree with a thick golden border, her wedding saree, my sister confirmed later.

I stayed up half the night, chatting with my siblings and the other half attending to my restless 18 month old toddler. In the morning, I saw her again and broke down. The happiest chunk of my life has finally come to an end. No one in the world would call me the baby of the family anymore. No one can make appams, ribbon rice and maa laddoos the way ammumma did. And i didn't even bother to take the recipes from her. Stupid, stupid me.

I'll miss you Ammumma, more than you'll ever know. Say Hi to Appuppan for me. He will take good care of you now. I'm happy that you are in a better place now. I just wish you could have stayed a little longer with us.

- By Gayatri Bhadran