When im really low... all I have to do is shut my eyes and think of her....my grandmother. Images of comfort flood me totally. Images of me running to her with my pillow and begging to sleep next to her. Images of her saving that extra share of desert just for me. Images of me combing her hair, of me going through the cupboard for those sweets that she always has for me, of her telling me stories of a far away time - a time when she was a little girl like me.........
She is my best friend. I discussed my first crush with her, she’s the one who adviced me when I ran to her with a broken heart and she’s the one who haggled with my parents for extension of deadlines and night-out parties! I survived the cold winters of Kashmir only because I could wear the sweaters she knitted and the mittens and the shawls and the socks......she put in all her warmth into them...that’s what I always believe. My red school cardigan was never ever that warm ...so much for the ’angora wool’ label on it!
Toady I am 27 and dadima is 97...... separated by all those years between us, we are as close as ever. I havent seen her in over a year now and am dying to go home and give her a big big hug...snuggle up with her under her quilt in the afternoons and chat away.......
I miss you dadima!