"Happiness is a Swedish sunset; it is there for all, but most of us look the other way and lose it."My nani (Maternal grandma) was the only one I could ever relate to a fairy tale woman in real life… Quiet, always smiling yet controlled her and our lives, almost all the time. The youngest daughter of a most affluent family and was married off to a village boy. Like a fairy tale woman she adjusted, lived, smiled, loved us and died! (It only teaches me the art of acceptance, nothing else).
She stood by me when I picked up dad’s cigarette buds. (Logically we learn from our elders) Always celebrated my birthday every year and even on those years when no one remembered it. (Made the best khir) On an ugly Sunday when mom, dad, sister and brother left to Hyderabad without me, she was there for me. Those were the only days when I died to be home. (Duh! they all thought I was sad)
The art of acceptance, which eventually I couldn't learn, my sister did. She withstood the humour when I defecated at school, she saved my ass (ass indeed) when I went missing for hours and everyone thought I was kidnapped. Hidden the incident of me beating guys on street when she came to know about it from her friends. Built bridges and broke walls for me! And now performing the biggest deal. That she does anything to keep us smiling.
Somewhere I read marriages are not by choice, they are by chance. Maybe. On my sister’s marriage, mom’s poet friend gifted a beautiful poem… Something like “curves” as it translated from Assamese. I call it “Turning point.” I knew her marriage was going to be a beautiful “Turning point”, like the beautiful poem.
To turn with… I can’t flick your money anymore; you won’t have to break your head while cleaning my clothes and the bathroom. No one to use your phone like a PCO :) Last but not the least, you always loved making friends… you got a whole family to be friends with.
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