I know I put up a lot of posts on my blog-random thoughts, weird poems which don’t rhyme, posts which smell of anger. This will be a random post as well. About my nanu.
During my childhood years, there was this time when I spent a couple of years at my nanu’s home. Although it was not far away from where my father lived, every morning nanu used to dress me up, comb my hair in a hairdo I wouldn’t dare even think of doing now, hang a water flask on my neck and a heavy bag on my back, tie my shoe-laces and then accompanying me to the car when I papa arrived and honked the horns.
I remember the winter time at her place. She used to warm water for my bath and then take me to the terrace, so that I get warmth from the sun as well. I used to shiver and then she would wrap me tightly in a towel and carry me downstairs. Strong woman, my grandma. My nanu is a woman who loves spending time in the kitchen, cooking every dish with a lot of attention and love. Then she would take a bath, carry me on her lap (I allowed her to carry me till I was 6) and then turn the TV on and watch a Bangla movie while she fed me. Ofcourse she would prefer the typical way of feeding children-making small balls of rice and feeding them to me one by one.
I remember running towards my nanu whenever I feel and scratched my knees. I would tug her saree anchal until I got what I wanted from her. From time to time, I hid her glasses under an empty pot or under the pillow.
The spooky part about my nanu’s house is that there is a graveyard on the opposite side of the road, and standing on the balcony, you could listen to the foxes howling at a distant at night. But she used to assure me, ‘The evil can never travel to places where the sound of prayers reach.’ And it never did.
I don’t see her much nowadays. She doesn’t visit our place much, and her house is so far off, I see her only once a week. I don’t miss her much, I guess the little me grew up so fast that now I don’t need her anymore. Except the times, I can’t go to sleep at night and stare at the shadows being casted on my wall by the lights outside. When someone asks me if I had my meals or not, when someone pulls me and gives me a tight hug, when someone tells me, ‘Why are you always so angry Orittro’. There is this saying that we miss only those whom we tend to forget from time to time. Guess I never miss her at all