Roll memory, Action!

That day

     Yes, I cried. But little less than others. I thought maybe I was never as close as they were. I was so much disturbed by the large number of people arrived for the funeral. Even the air in our house was too much occupied with the sound waves.

     One or two relatives were there for few days. Then, it was back. The calm environment. It was my home. My sweet silent home is back.

     Days went on. Whenever I pass her room, I missed that person who used to sit in bed and watch some serials. God knows how she managed to watch that much serials - Hindi, Telugu, Tamil. Upon that, she used to read novels. Oh my god, I have never known someone reading a novel so fast. Maybe reading novels is the only good trait I got inherited from her. Though I am kind of slow reader. One day when I returned home, my parents and my sis went shopping. Unlike other days, today I have to serve myself my lunch.

     The dining table feels too big if you are the only one eating in that. To avoid loneliness, I shift to the living room and switched on the television which can be a greater distraction. Or maybe I thought so. The curry was very spicy, I badly needed water. For a moment, I was about to call her. It was almost near the tip of the tongue. But then my heart skipped a beat, I realized the reality, I couldn't react. It was hard to swallow just a spoon of rice in my mouth. My eyes welling up. Even though I try not to roll back memories, when does it listen to me. Pictures start to reappear.

Months back

     Shruti reaches home tiredly after standing and doing work in the lab for almost five hours. It was a very hot summer. She parked her Maestro and knocked on the door. Her grandmother opens it. She saw her grandmother after many months. Usually, her grandmother stays with his elder son for a few months and with his younger son for a few months. She welcomed Shruti with her smiling excited face.

"How are you, Naani?"

     Telugu people call their father's mother as 'Nainamma'. In their family, the eldest one (Shruti's sister) started calling her as 'naani' when she was a child, and Shruti and their cousins blindly followed her.

"Yes dear, I am fine. How are you?"

"yeah I am fine"

"you became too dull. Why?"

"No nothing like that. I am just too tired today"

     She goes to the kitchen and brings a glass of water.

"Shall I serve you lunch?"

"No, I got home just now from the heavy sun. I will eat after a while", Shruti replied.

"Ok. Whenever you feel like eating just let me know. I will mix and give in your bowl".

"hmm ok"

     Shruti takes her phone and starts to scroll in various apps for updates and posts. Forgetting to eat, she starts to watch videos on YouTube and Instagram. Suddenly her grandmother comes with a bowl that has spoon in it.

"Naanii... I told you I will eat later. Why do you do this?"

"You should have eaten early in the morning. Keep quiet and eat"

Shruti gets the bowl and wonders why her grandmother tortures her like this.

"Nothing like that. I eat something in break time"

"hmm I know how much you eat", she replies sarcastically

      As soon as she ate a spoon of rice, hunger rises to peaks and she eats faster. Meanwhile, her grandmother bought a glass of water and kept it in the nearby table. And she goes away to continue her serial. Shruti was about to complete her bowl, and suddenly, her naani brings another small bowl of curd rice with pickle above it.

"Naani, I am full. I don't want this", Shruti protested.

"In this age, you must eat a lot"

"yeah, I had more than usual. Please leave me"

"At least eat a spoon dear. You are such a sweetheart know. Come on now eat just one spoon"

     Shruti can't say anything anymore. Her kindness made her to eat the curd rice also. With that one last spoon, her naani does a ritual where they believe the black magic is removed.

Present-day

     Though I was immersed in watching my phone, how does she know I am hungry? how does she know I want a water after eating my first spoon? how does she know I completed my first set of rice?

     For other cousins, she was their naani and they are her grandchildren. But for me, I was that last bad kid in the family. I was her ruling princess. If I do some weird strange cooking experiments, she was the first to taste them. Though she was the expert in making sweets, even if I do Rava halwa, she praises to the end. She was special. She was nice. She was kind. She was awesome. I wish she could read this. At least could feel this from heaven. Love you Naani. Always & Forever.