Dear Thamma

I looked into the familiar face today, yet again. She smiled, and as I gently adjusted her hearing aid, I knew that toothless, childlike smile was one of gratitude. The constant whistle died down within her ears, and after many years she heard our soft voices all over again. She could hear the gurgle of the aquarium filter, as it spewed out bubbles for the fishes to play with. She could listen to the strumming of the guitar that had fascinated her for so long now, and her joy knew no bounds.

Her beautiful face, lined and etched with many years worth of wrinkles make it even more beautiful, and as my fingers ran over her cheeks to ensure that the hearing aid fits well, I could feel the soft wrinkled skin beneath my fingertips, and they told me so many stories of so many winters just like this, sitting in the sunlight hearing those vicious stories in Thamma’s soothing voice, knowing that in the end, it will be alright.

The days of storytelling are long gone, but that passion still lingers on. The way her eyes light up every time she picks up one of her books – be it the new Salman Rushdie, or yet another re-read of Harry Potter – she devours page after page of book after book, maybe hoping to find someone who would listen to those stories, the way we did in the warm winter sunshine on lazy afternoons.

I have seen Dadu being snatched away unexpectedly, and now I’m seeing Thamma withering away in front of my eyes; but there is beauty in old age. There is strength in this fragility. There is wisdom in those deep eyes, and they’re just looking for someone to listen. There is warmth in that voice, and you can feel it in spite of the cold winter chill.

For her sake, I want to be a writer. Someday, hopefully someday soon, I hope to be able to tell her one of my stories, to let her know that her little grandson, the one who used to listen with rapt attention to those stories in the sunlight, has grown up; that for a change, he’s got some stories to tell as well.

I better get going, and get to work; there are so many stories that I need to tell her.

Comments

  1. IcE MaiDeNJanuary 4, 2011 at 7:38 PM

    I'm sure Thamma is waiting for a story or two from you as eagerly as you waited for her stories a long long time ago as well :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Arnab MajumdarJanuary 4, 2011 at 8:28 PM

    @ Ice Maiden... I hope she likes the stories, just as I did...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Brian MillerJanuary 4, 2011 at 8:46 PM

    this is beautiful and the greatest gift a grandson of a storyteller could give is to return them one day...

    ReplyDelete
  4. Arnab MajumdarJanuary 4, 2011 at 10:13 PM

    @ Brian... I hope that one day comes soon. Haven't been able to write as much or as frequently I have wanted to for a long time now...

    ReplyDelete

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