I walked out of the Diamond City Complex, my hair messy and cloths disheveled, as I carefully stepped over the uneven foot walk and looked ahead at the not\u2013so\u2013busy road. I often came here to play Badminton with one of my college friends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I had gotten quite accustomed to the modus operandi of the place, now that it was my second year here, there were tougher times still. With my upbringing done in a faraway place up in the north, this place undeniably had certain insecurities for me. The language was obviously a problem \u2013 my Bengali wasn\u2019t quite adequate to blend in among the local folks, and then once again I was unfamiliar with the roads and streets, the culture and trends, the festivals and religion. But I was doing fine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Now, as much as I\u2019d like to blame everything on my parents for suddenly admitting a girl who spent her entire childhood in the north to a college in West Bengal, the extreme East of the country, they did make sure I wouldn\u2019t have to face that many difficulties by placing me under the utmost care of my relatives \u2013 who I didn\u2019t even recognize that well! <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But apart from all the awkwardness that ensued after our new arrangement, I eventually got comfortable with them, getting incredibly closer to one person in particular \u2013 my grandmother. I had seen her before too, during summer breaks when we\u2019d visit Kolkata sometimes during my school days, but for the first time I was actually seeing her for who she was \u2013 and she was beautiful. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I grew up reading books, and quite naturally I had read stories like \u201cThe Portrait of a Lady\u201d and \u201cHow I Taught My Grandmother to Read\u201d<\/em>; and astonished, I saw the uncanny resemblance between their narratives and my grandmother. She was hunched, had wrinkles, silverish hair tied in a braid and always wore atpoure<\/em> sarees. It was strange really, and definitely unintentional. I hadn\u2019t meant to compare, and maybe I wasn\u2019t even conscious about it. But her presence had a unique way of soothing me down. It felt peaceful and tranquil filling me completely with calm and poise. She felt like a story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My friends back in school always talked about their grandparents telling them stories of their ancestry and how they made the best of achaars <\/em>and papads<\/em> in their families. How they\u2019d protect them from the anger and beatings of their parents and even sneak out an extra snack for them. Naturally, I never got to experience any of that, so this was indeed a first. But even if I got incredibly closer to the lady, it wasn\u2019t that we spent all hours of the day together. It\u2019d only be those evening tea sessions when we\u2019d freely gossip away our lives in light hearted jokes and anecdotes; but that still was plenty more than how much I interrelated with the others.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Sometimes, we\u2019d go out to feed our colony\u2019s dog Kaalu<\/em> (since its fur was a beautiful black, people naturally started calling it that), or when we had to invite the ladies from the neighbourhood for a puja<\/em> we were organizing. But it was only limited to that \u2013 short distances. She was very old. And longer distances wouldn\u2019t have been wise for her to cover \u2013 or so the doctor had said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And that is why I was surprised when I met her in the bazaar<\/em>, browsing through a fruit stall?<\/p>\n\n\n\n I certainly didn\u2019t expect her to be out in the market looking around. There were many other customers there as well, so the place was pretty crowded and she was just glancing at the stall from behind a lot of people. Maybe she\u2019d have spoken something but when she sensed me approaching the stall, she turned to face me and a wide smile greeted her lips. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Strange. Was she always this happy to see me? I mean, she loved me a lot but a wide grin was not very common on her face. She was a soft smiler. <\/p>\n\n\n\n But anyways, I walked towards her, and she too, decided to leave the stall\u2019s area and approached me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLooking for fruits for the pujo<\/em>?\u201d I asked, grinning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNah. Just thinking if they\u2019ll have Pears in this one. It\u2019s always Apples and Sweet Lime!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n I passed the stall and started walking towards the shortcut\u2013route to home, and my grandmother started following me. I had a hunch that she wasn\u2019t actually going to buy anything, since they rarely gave her any money to keep with her. And the little money my grandmother did save, she\u2019d divide them equally and put it in two gullaks<\/em> our family had. One had my name written on it, and the other had my brother\u2019s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou wanted to eat some Pears?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell, not exactly\u2026\u201d she wasn\u2019t denying it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Well, it couldn\u2019t have been helped. <\/p>\n\n\n\n From the next fruit stall that we came across, I had bought two Pears. Strangely, my grandmother didn\u2019t protest. Usually, when I offered to buy something for the elders, they\u2019d have revolted and said that it wasn\u2019t needed, so maybe I expected my grandmother to say something like that. Courtesy, maybe? The elders always did it. But today she was quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And that was strange. Either she really wanted to eat Pears, or maybe something else was bothering her. And, although I really didn\u2019t have a problem buying some fruits, something akin to uneasiness lingered in the atmosphere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOkay, did you get scolded or something?\u201d I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo! But they don\u2019t let me have any sweets either!\u201d she frowned. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Oh, so she craved sweets too?<\/p>\n\n\n\n I giggled and linked an arm around hers, \u201cdon\u2019t you have sugar? ~\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell, one Sandesh won\u2019t hurt\u2026!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I kept giggling, \u201cnow I see. I thought it was strange that you were this far out in the market street, and all alone at that. Turns out that you just got chewed out by your daughter and grandson ~\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I kept the teasing to a minimum, not because I resonated with having so many restrictions on food, but simply because she was my grandmother. She had loved sweets at one point of time, but now she was diabetic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Although she was right about one thing. One won\u2019t hurt. <\/p>\n\n\n\n We made one last stop before we could finally go home \u2013 the sweets shop. And since I was there already, I thought it might not be a bad idea to bring sweets for everyone else at home as well. I had expected my grandmother to jump in and make suggestions on which sweets to buy, but she was, yet again, quiet. She felt so\u2026 distant?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Well, not letting those wandering thoughts into my mind, I quickly negotiated with the shopkeeper and bought a variety of Sandesh<\/em> and Rasgulla<\/em>. My grandmother just maintained a distance \u2013 she didn\u2019t approach the stall, just kept waiting by the light\u2013post \u2013 as she kept watching me with a smile. It might look like she was elated for being treated to sweets even though she was diabetic, but somehow her smile felt wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Somehow, it felt bittersweet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I didn\u2019t say anything. I quickly thanked the sweet\u2013meat seller and started walking towards her. But my grandmother maintained her quiet and started walking ahead. This time, I was the one who followed, but I caught up to her soon enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOkay, so now we got sweets too. Tell me amma, what is wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt is nothing\u201d she paused and then turned back, giving me a teasing smirk, \u201cyou\u2019re not a miser anymore ~\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Although I could still see the wistfulness behind that smirk, I decided to play along and not make her uncomfortable. \u201cI was never a miser!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n And that continued.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We bantered on our entire way back \u2013 just us throwing playful accusations at each other along the way \u2013 yet the eeriness remained. And it became even more obvious when I noticed an awfully familiar car parked outside our apartment. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Where had I seen that car before? <\/p>\n\n\n\n I looked over my shoulder and met my grandmother\u2019s gaze \u2013 she was still smiling, unsure \u2013 and then looking ahead, I stepped in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo, it\u2019s just\u2026 it\u2019s so sudden and\u2026\u201d I heard my aunt\u2019s voice as a tall gentleman in a semi\u2013formal attire walked out of the room. And I immediately recognized who he was. Our family doctor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That car might\u2019ve been his then. But what was he doing here anyway?<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry. But I can assure you, she went peacefully.\u201d The doctor nodded, with a sorrowful look and then patted my back, before leaving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c\u2026went peacefully? What was he saying? Is someone dead?\u201d I took another step forward, my face scrunching with worry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n After a while, my aunt finally spoke, \u201cit\u2019s amma<\/em>, she\u2019s no more\u2026 it was so sudden and we just\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The words had already stopped registering by then. What was she saying? That was definitely not possible!<\/p>\n\n\n\n I immediately turned back and jumped out of the door, frantically looking around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But she wasn\u2019t there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My grandmother who I had just walked home with was nowhere in sight. My aunt, worried how badly I was taking the news, rushed towards my side and rubbed my back. And all I could do was clutch tightly at the fruits and sweets I had bought.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I walked out of the Diamond City Complex, my hair messy and cloths disheveled, as I carefully stepped over the uneven foot walk and looked ahead at the not\u2013so\u2013busy road. I often came here to play Badminton with one of my college friends. I had gotten quite accustomed to the modus operandi of the place, now that it was my second year here, there were tougher times still. With my upbringing done in a faraway place up in the north, this place undeniably had certain insecurities for me. The language was obviously a problem \u2013 my Bengali wasn\u2019t quite adequate to blend in among the local folks, and then once again I was unfamiliar with the roads and streets, the culture and trends, the festivals and religion. But I was doing fine. Now, as much as I\u2019d like to blame everything on my parents for suddenly admitting a girl who spent her entire childhood in the north to a college in West Bengal, the extreme East of the country, they did make sure I wouldn\u2019t have to face that many difficulties by placing me under the utmost care of my relatives \u2013 who I didn\u2019t even recognize that well! But apart from all the awkwardness that ensued after our new arrangement, I eventually got comfortable with them, getting incredibly closer to one person in particular \u2013 my grandmother. I had seen her before too, during summer breaks when we\u2019d visit Kolkata sometimes during my school days, but for the first time I was actually seeing her for who she was \u2013 and she was beautiful. I grew up reading books, and quite naturally I had read stories like \u201cThe Portrait of a Lady\u201d and \u201cHow I Taught My Grandmother to Read\u201d; and astonished, I saw the uncanny resemblance between their narratives and my grandmother. She was hunched, had wrinkles, silverish hair tied in a braid and always wore atpoure sarees. It was strange really, and definitely unintentional. I hadn\u2019t meant to compare, and maybe I wasn\u2019t even conscious about it. But her presence had a unique way of soothing me down. It felt peaceful and tranquil filling me completely with calm and poise. She felt like a story. My friends back in school always talked about their grandparents telling them stories of their ancestry and how they made the best of achaars and papads in their families. How they\u2019d protect them from the anger and beatings of their parents and even sneak out an extra snack for them. Naturally, I never got to experience any of that, so this was indeed a first. But even if I got incredibly closer to the lady, it wasn\u2019t that we spent all hours of the day together. It\u2019d only be those evening tea sessions when we\u2019d freely gossip away our lives in light hearted jokes and anecdotes; but that still was plenty more than how much I interrelated with the others. Sometimes, we\u2019d go out to feed our colony\u2019s dog Kaalu (since its fur was a beautiful black, people naturally started calling it that), or when we had to invite the ladies from the neighbourhood for a puja we were organizing. But it was only limited to that \u2013 short distances. She was very old. And longer distances wouldn\u2019t have been wise for her to cover \u2013 or so the doctor had said. And that is why I was surprised when I met her in the bazaar, browsing through a fruit stall? I certainly didn\u2019t expect her to be out in the market looking around. There were many other customers there as well, so the place was pretty crowded and she was just glancing at the stall from behind a lot of people. Maybe she\u2019d have spoken something but when she sensed me approaching the stall, she turned to face me and a wide smile greeted her lips. Strange. Was she always this happy to see me? I mean, she loved me a lot but a wide grin was not very common on her face. She was a soft smiler. But anyways, I walked towards her, and she too, decided to leave the stall\u2019s area and approached me. \u201cLooking for fruits for the pujo?\u201d I asked, grinning. \u201cNah. Just thinking if they\u2019ll have Pears in this one. It\u2019s always Apples and Sweet Lime!\u201d I passed the stall and started walking towards the shortcut\u2013route to home, and my grandmother started following me. I had a hunch that she wasn\u2019t actually going to buy anything, since they rarely gave her any money to keep with her. And the little money my grandmother did save, she\u2019d divide them equally and put it in two gullaks our family had. One had my name written on it, and the other had my brother\u2019s. \u201cYou wanted to eat some Pears?\u201d I asked. \u201cWell, not exactly\u2026\u201d she wasn\u2019t denying it. Well, it couldn\u2019t have been helped. From the next fruit stall that we came across, I had bought two Pears. Strangely, my grandmother didn\u2019t protest. Usually, when I offered to buy something for the elders, they\u2019d have revolted and said that it wasn\u2019t needed, so maybe I expected my grandmother to say something like that. Courtesy, maybe? The elders always did it. But today she was quiet. And that was strange. Either she really wanted to eat Pears, or maybe something else was bothering her. And, although I really didn\u2019t have a problem buying some fruits, something akin to uneasiness lingered in the atmosphere. \u201cOkay, did you get scolded or something?\u201d I asked, unable to hide my curiosity. \u201cNo! But they don\u2019t let me have any sweets either!\u201d she frowned. Oh, so she craved sweets too? I giggled and linked an arm around hers, \u201cdon\u2019t you have sugar? ~\u201d \u201cWell, one Sandesh won\u2019t hurt\u2026!\u201d I kept giggling, \u201cnow I see. I thought it was strange that you were this far out in the market street, and all alone at that. Turns out that you just got chewed out by<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_eb_attr":"","content-type":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[78],"tags":[90,94,26],"class_list":{"0":"post-6999","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-shortstories-golpolekharlorai","7":"tag-golpolekharlorai","8":"tag-competition-2","9":"tag-techno-india-group"},"yoast_head":"\n