When I was a teenager I wrote a poem for my badimaa”Grand Ma”. Though she was not familiar with english vocabulary and diction, she took the poem with a great pride. She used to ask both me and Grand Paa to translate it to her in Hindi or Punjabi. With pride she would call her friends and relatives to tell them about my gibberish ode to her. I was never comfortable with such show of emotion so would squirm as she would tell about my poem to everyone else. As i grew up I forgot about what I had written and we both moved on. Now she died on 22nd February 2015, and I tried to be pragmatic and bold about it. I shed tears but very little of them. After coming back from cremation my brother and I were in her room. My brother was just going through some of her stuff when he found this old pale page and asked me if I wrote to her. First a little numb I didn’t comprehend until I opened the folded paper my whole body started to quake. And that night I cried remembering our love, bond, fight, hurt, happiness, innocence, anger and peace.
Yesterday was a miracle
Today I saw it’s sequel
You singing lullabies
You held my hand
You are angel in disguise
Your face is old and worn out
You have laughing lines all around
But your eyes full of my life
Leaves me astound
With my every mistake your frown
My innocent eyes makes you give in
But I know you can see through my pretence
And you also know it
Wish you have a life forever
But till time allows
You are my Grandmother
You took me to the garden for the walk
You told me how to fight bad man who stalk
Your angry eyes leaves bad monster stunned
You showed me God was one
And pray through heart leaves you forgiven
Your gentle lips with soft smile
Shushes me when I cry
You are my teddy bear
When I’m scared
You are my will when I doubt to dare
So wish you had life forever
So let spend some time together
Till time allows…you are my Grandmother.
An Indian Princess 