Sunday, May 1, 2011

she’s not Worth Writing...

She was with me from my first to fourth birthday and I spent four years of my life with her. I was so young but I still remember each and every memory I spent with her. I can never imagine her face in my memory until I open her pictures to recall her face. She loved me a lot as I was the first kid at her home, her son’s first daughter, the first giggling machine at her home, but I never felt  her that important to write on her, she was so ordinary woman, the woman with so many kids and no distinguish identity. With her all household works, she used to knit sweaters for sale and extra income, but I think it’s not at all some extra ordinary thing to start a separate post for it.
As I already mentioned that I remember all time what I spent with her, I remember how she used to pass her hours on knitting machine to knit sweaters to sale and earn money ‘cause she’d so many kids and all were getting quality education, her husband was doing on a big post but he was less paid as it was a government job and her recent living home wasn’t enough for her new family which was extending fast and she wanted a new and big one. But I never heard her complaining about the shoulder pains even after knitting 8 hours a day after all household work to deliver her order on time. She had so many social contacts which used to give some work and even she was social and friendly otherwise too. She used to bring me to her customers’ places and tell everyone that I was her granddaughter. Everyone adored her but still it’s nothing important to write about.
When I was three and half, she’d enough money saved to have a home and to leave the work she was doing at home. She was so relaxed and moved there and decorated her new place like a palace, and everyone adored it. And in half year, in the month of April, her heart ditched her, she was hospitalized for 10 days and I used to visit her with my father. She was healthy and active enough and we were never knew the bed she was on was her death bed. She called her other sons and asked them to take care of me until I got married, and passed away silently, on 1st May.
She was so ordinary that I never felt like to write about her, but in last twenty years, whenever I felt miserable, I wished her to be with me, I wished her to stay with me for few more years. Everyone got established and my uncles took care of me and everyone in my family treated me as a princess, and whenever I went out of my old place everyone told me that my dadi ammi [grandmother] loved me a lot and she used to bring me to their places, no one ever recognized me there as 3yesha, I was the granddaughter of the woman who spent her life for her family and died when she was finally free from tensionful work.
I strongly believe that she’s not at all worth writing 'cause I never have words to explain her, she’s worth remembering.
I so loved her, and I'm writing not 'cause it was her 20th death anniversary, but 'cause it was labor day. This memory made me cry today, I never liked my grandfather that much, but I heart my grandmum. and I miss her a lot a lot .. may she rest in peace today and always..

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