REMINISCENCE

The aroma of freshly-cooked parathas blended with the smells of various herbs and spices wafted through the humid Karachi air. I started searching for the person responsible for alerting my sense of smell. Not finding her amidst pots and pans, I looked for her in her simple but well-kept room. And there she was on the prayer mat, with a ruby red tasbih in her lightly calloused yet tender hand and her wavy hair veiled by a beautiful white dupatta. She was almost done and I knew she would end her prayer by making du’a for her beloved family. As she was busy folding her prayer mat, I gave a joyful cry and she looked up with an astonished expression on her face. Upon seeing my family and I, her eyes started shedding happy tears and she hugged all of us, who had come to spend our holidays in the City of Lights.

Living abroad has its pros, but the one thing I hated most was not being able to spend pleasurable moments with the whole clan, especially my grandmother. I missed her kind eyes and tender heart to the core. I missed the frothy pink Kashmiri tea and milky sheer khorma she would make for us. Whenever, I would come to Pakistan, the first person I’d give a bear hug to would be my grandma.

Now, when I see her being trapped by old age and a variety of illnesses, I can’t help but feel the injustice. It seems as if a completely different being is lying on her bed with an air of helplessness and evident deep wrinkles. A being who is quite different from the energetic woman, who reared seven children, performed multiple tasks at one time, splendidly decorated the huge wooden dining table with an array of scrumptious meals and told all her grandchildren long stories consisting of faraway places and happy endings. As I went up to her, slowly taking in the ironic reality of life and age, I noticed that one trait of hers had not changed at all - her enchanting, heart-warming smile. Although, she couldn’t speak much now, she took my hand and held it, as if transferring all the strength she had into me. Even now, she had the power of calming me; such is the love of a grandmother.

When one thinks of the word ‘grandmother’, usually the image of a kind, old lady busy knitting in a cozy corner springs to mind. I pondered over this and realized this picture is quite accurate. I will tell you why! Grandmothers are the strong, colourful threads that keep the whole kin knitted together. Their special words of wisdom and advice are meant to be cherished. The bond between grandparents and grandchildren is unique. Doesn’t it feel wonderful to be praised by your grandma on the smallest of achievements? Even if others degrade you, the amount of faith a grandma has in her grandchild is beyond indescribable. Her home is like a splendid kingdom where one gets royal treatment all the time! Grandmothers are the shady trees we run to for shelter when scolded by our parents.

The hustle and bustle of our lives shouldn’t stop us from having pleasant moments with them, whether it is as simple as having a cup of coffee over their many stories and experiences. Unfortunately, many of us are so engrossed in our everyday hassles that we forget about the ones who have given us so much. So make most of the time you have with your grandma, folks, before the colourful thread snaps, and leaves you filled with regret.