Bits and pieces...

Spring is that time of the year... there are splashes of colour. Our own tulip bulbs are sprouting, with a hint of purple, I had bought the pack thinking they will be yellows and reds, I love purple too. In the neighbour's, 2 gardens away, a bunch of orange and pink strikes my eye. The tallest tree in the triangle formation of our garden bears white flowers - a late bloomer - considering the street and locality has many such in full bloom. The bees and mosquitoes are having a field day, butterflies too. We found a dead sparrow in the garden, the girls shrieked and came in to call me. We gave the sparrow a quick burial among the flower beds and stuck a pole to mark the spot.

A couple of weeks ago, there was a dead merel bird under a tree close to the side-walk.  I showed it to lil G who accepted her death very matter-of-factly. She must have conveyed that to Big G, the sisters share every little bit of information, even if I have given one a bit of chocolate and told her specifically to keep it to herself. Big G got to know of it in a matter of minutes as she got back from her tennis class. There were endless speculations on how the bird must have died. What now? I couldn't answer that, I thought the people of the house would take the bird away. For 3 weeks almost, we saw the bird lying there, on our way to school and back, body disintegrating over time. And one fine day, the sidewalk was bare. Nothing remained, just a stray remark.

I lost my grandmother in the last week of March. She was 94, she had been operated for a hip fracture a month and a half ago, but could not recover from it. She had bedsores, pain, indigestion apart from arthritis which she was suffering since many years. I had such mixed feelings. I've grown up with my grandmother. She was a great cook, great story teller, very good with her hands - embroiery, crochet, knitting, an avid reader right upto her cataract operaton.  She had lived through Partition and had so many stories to share. She liked her daughter more than her son, and this caused some anguish to people concerened. I used to judge her on this, but today as a parent to two children, I do believe that a lot depends on the personalities of the people involved. And hence there can be different bonds and degrees of loving. To be fair to each child is another thing, and if one is not, you will have only yourself to blame for it.

I spent 7 months for lil G's birth at my mom's place and we all spent some time together. On every visit thereafter, the girls would play and talk with Dadima very fondly (in chaste Gujarati, not less) and would always try to hide her walking stick. When I told them she was no more, they took it in stride, one asked where is her walking stick, another wiped my tears. I struggle with my complex emotions, and hopefully will do something with knitting and crochet, which I know at a very basic level. My grandmother's handiwork with pearls still adorns our house.

Planning to start a small profile based write-up on some women I've met here - some working, some not and genereally a non-value based insight into the lives of people. Does it sound like something you would want to read? On second thoughts, I think I will not. Will continue with mundane writing I normally do.