I’m so sorry Ammamme

Finally, she has been laid to rest. My grandmother. I call her Ammamma.

My Ammamma was just the kind of grandma you find in stories and films. Her name was Savithri and she was a retired school teacher. Ammamma had the most flawless and glowing skin I have ever seen. The secret? She used no harsh soaps, only besan and other natural extracts on her skin.

She was a storehouse of knowledge. And the tales she used to entertain us with – truly enchanting and mesmerizing. She also knew at least a thousand stories from the epics. Her day began around 4 am and she used to work non-stop even after we were all sound asleep. As soon as she received news that we grandchildren would be coming down for the holidays, she would fill her storeroom with jars and jars of pickled mangoes and gooseberries. Then there were tons of crunchy snacks that we loved to munch on. Her masterpiece was a delicacy called ‘Orappam’ – a sweet and soft cake-like dish that was baked overnight and would be ready for use as breakfast the next day.

Plants were her other great passion. She had dozens of potted rose plants that she tended to with great care. Then there were the fruit trees – chickoo, mangoes, jackfruits, cherry and what not. But with advancing age and failing health, all her plants withered just like her and the place looked almost bare the last time I visited her.

I can’t believe I was this close to her – just outside her gate – while she was counting her last days and yet I didn’t have the strength to simply go in and see her one last time. Ever since Jayasree aunty told me about her deteriorating condition, I wanted to see Ammamma. I knew it was not going to be easy since she was with my parents. Yet I kept repeating my wish to Manu. And Manu, being the highly impulsive type he is, told me we were going for a short drive last Sunday evening. And he drove straight down to Thiruvananthapuram and stopped the car right in front of C S Nivas. 

It was past 10pm and the whole world seemed asleep. The eerie blue lights near the gates were glowing faintly in the dark. And my mind was numb and tumultuous at the same time. I wanted to rush in and take one last look and her. But something kept pulling me back. I simply remained stuck to the seat. After a while, Manu drove on. The next day, we visited Kavya and spent the evening at the Santhigiri fest. We drove back home the following day.

And today when I knew that Ammamma has passed away, I feel haunted by the thought that I did not seize the chance to see her when God gave me a chance. I know it’s no use thinking about it now, but…