My granny died in the
morning and in the evening, she came to meet me in my dream. I was excited to
meet her. We talked for hours about my marriage, which was due next month. In
the morning, I had found her dead, cold dead. Her motionless body gave me
shrieks collecting my mom, dad, and elder brother in the room. My mom seeing me
in unbearable pain took me out of the room. After a few hours relatives started
to pour in. Old, young, middle, all they came. I was shattered.
She was sixty-five, hit and
fit, without a trace of any illness. Always getting up at four and walking to
the Temple,
which was at least five kilometres away was a part of her routine. She never
missed her Temple
visits. I often accompanied her to the Temple.
And in this temple I met her. She was sitting at her usual place, a corner of
the Temple from
where Lord Rama could be seen. She counted beads as she talked to me. Her
counting paused when she talked and started when I spoke. The whole atmosphere
was so divine that my heart felt calm.
My mom shook me. I woke up saying, “Granny.” My mom hugged me.
“I met her… I met her,” I
told my mom frantically.
My mom swept her hand on my
head.
“I met her in my dream.”
Worry lines appeared on my
mom’s forehead. She said nothing but I could understand she was worried. The
next day I again told my mom, “I met her.” This time my mom was scared.
“You talked to her?” she
asked.
“Yeah.”
“About what?” she
investigated.
“Marriage... What about
marriage?”
“She promised me she would
come,” I confided.
“Come ? Where?” This time the
worry lines were deep, real deep.
“To my marriage. Granny
promised me she would come to my marriage.”
My mom was deadly scared. She
dialled her mom. After a few talks, she got up from bed, went straight to
the kitchen, and came back with two chapattis on a newspaper with pickle on
them.
“Give them to Bhiku,” she ordered me.Bhiku is a sweeper.
“Why?”
“Do not question me gal. Do
as I say?” said my mother irritated.
I got up and gave it to Bhiku
who could always easily be found sitting under the mango tree in our street. He
was an old man always busy sweeping the street and when free he loved to smoke
under the mango tree resting his back on its big trunk.
“Granny came to meet you?”
inquired my mother as soon as I was up the next morning.
“Yeah! but blurred. We could
not talk. She seemed disturbed,” I said in a sad tone.
My mom was happy. She broke
the news to dad who said thank god with a sigh.
At eleven as Bhiku arrived to collect garbage, I again handed him two chapattis
with pickle as asked by mom. That noon disturbed about not being able to talk
to granny, I slept to calm my troubled mind. And it worked as granny arrived.
She was weeping in the cremation ground. I felt afraid and I told her so.
“ Don’t be afraid I am with
you Ruchi,” she tried to comfort me.
“Why didn’t you come last
night,” I asked annoyed.
“You gave chapattis and
pickle to Bhiku.”
“So what?”
“Oh! my dear child. You are
so innocent how will you manage at your in- laws. You are nineteen now, learn
some things about the world.”
“Granny tell me now,” I
persisted.
“If you give chapattis and
pickle to a sweeper we spirits can’t come to meet mortals in this world.”
My jaws dropped. So that’s why my mom gave them to me.My mom woke me up.
“Drop sleeping in the day you
are getting married. Your in - laws will taunt me,” she was worried more about
herself.
I saw a scheming mother now.
“They won’t mom,” I yelled to
her surprise.
“You met granny again,” she
asked.
Why the hell moms know
everything.
“Yes,” I yelled back.
Mom made a short trip to the kitchen and came back with chapattis and pickle.
“I won’t,” I moved my face aside.
My mom sat at my feet, her tears met my feet, and she said, “Then meet me also
in your dreams.” I was now under full emotional pressure. I rose and gave them
to Bhiku, “Granny please do not stop meeting me,” I begged to Granny in my
heart.
Now it became a routine to
give chapattis and pickle to Bhiku. He was happy at this new source of food in
his life. He even made me to see his two front broken teeth sometimes when he
smiled. The next full month Bhiku was happy.
The night before my marriage granny came to my dream, “I will come tomorrow.” And
she was gone. She was standing in dark. Only her face was visible to me that
too faintly. I was up panicked. It was two of night. Everybody was asleep so I
slept again.The hotel was decked with flowers and full of guests. My eyes just wanted to see granny and in their search, they met moms.
“Do not look for her she won’t
come,” her eyes said to me.
“She would,” I challenged
her.
My heart sank as I was about to take my last phera---circumambulating the fire. I stopped. I saw her in a white
sari smiling at me. She was wearing a divine radiance on her wrinkled face. I
smiled too. I could hear murmurs of my parents asking me to complete the last
round. I could not, my feet were frozen. She was standing at the door. Then she
started to come towards me. She was not walking. Her feet were just a little
bit up from the ground, they were not touching the ground. She was kind of
floating on the ground. She came near and passed me taking a full round of the small
pandal---fabricated structure and got out through the door. Now I
heard pleas of my relatives to move on.I moved on.
I looked at my mom. Her eyes asked, “Did she come.”
I nodded to say, “Yes my granny
came.”
Thirty years have passed to
this meeting. Granny never met me again. Now my mom meets me in my dreams. She
says, “She will come to her granddaughter’s wedding,” which has not been
scheduled yet.
And I want my mom to come to
bless her granddaughter.
---- © Atul Sharma.
---- Photo Credit, David Niblack, Imagebase.net
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