Daadi

My grandma was turning 80 in a fortnight and as it was a lean period in my office, I decided to surprise her by landing at her home on her birthday. My wife Dolly and daughter Sanjana too were game for the surprise and without further ado, I got our tickets booked for Mumbai.

It was a long time since I met my daadi – almost a decade! When my parents lived with her, we would occasionally chat on Skype, but post-retirement my dad took up an assignment in Assam and since then, I had not contacted her as much as I would have loved to. Sanjana was a small baby when I left home for the US, and so I keenly looked forward to seeing her reaction when daadi would set her eyes on her “laadli” who had now grown up into a very sweet child. 

Dolly knew what grandma liked and she also knew that grandma would not eat any sweets which were not prepared at home. So the day before we left, she came home early from office and made some chaklis and gujiyas, which were her favourites. On my part, I got her a nice silk sari from one of the Indian stores.

Sanjana opened out her piggy bank and counted her treasure – 7 dollars and fifty cents! She immediately searched for some gifts online and zeroed on some hair accessories for her daadi.

Our conversation on the flight from New York to Mumbai centred around my childhood in Daadi’s house and Sanjana curiously listened to each word of mine. Ours was one of five identical bungalows and was different from the rest in that it housed only our small family – my parents, grandparents and me. I was quite troublesome as a kid and would hide in some corner of the large sprawling house and make everyone go all over the place looking for me. I would also climb the trees which would make it even more difficult for them to search for me. I had another habit of playfully throwing things into the small well in our backyard, delighting when the water would splash all over. When others started searching for things I would stand in a corner and watch the fun. Our neighbouring houses had been rented out and there were as many as four families living in a single house. Our life in the “Paanch Bungla” was very memorable and all the kids got together and enjoyed Nukkad dramas, dances and the like. We were well knit and it was great fun.

A few years back when I had been to Paanch Bungla there were a few changes – the well had dried out and a bore well had been dug up with a shiny new hand pump installed. Daadaji who would keep us entertained with his wisecracks had passed away and daadi seemed to have added years to her life. She was short-tempered and grumbling most of the time. My father had retired and relocated, but daadi did not wish to move in with them. She preferred the known terrain and chose to stay alone as she felt quite safe and comfortable with the neighbours who were more than family.

As the plane landed in Mumbai, Sanjana grew impatient to see her Badi Amma. We took a cab and drove towards home. The GPS did not recognise Paanch Bungla and we had to spend quite a bit of time locating the place. Where five identical bunglows stood majestically, there were two high-rise buildings. I had to contact my parents on the phone to find out daadi’s address! They were surprised to know that we were in Mumbai as I had not divulged my plans to them either. I really felt guilty that I had to ask for her address, but with my work pressure and different time zones, it was quite an effort to be in touch with daadi. She had hearing problems and when initially I tried to call her, half the conversation would only be “Helleo, hello” on both sides.

The neighbour, finished her chores in the kitchen and sat with us. She was quite updated about the three of us and also asked if Sanjana had got through the finals of Spellbee. All credit to Daadi. Soon a graceful elderly lady in leotards stepped out of the lift. “There she is”, exclaimed the neighbour and walked towards her and brought her to where we were seated. With a cry of “Daadi…..”, Sanjana went to hug her and there was happiness all around. We all then entered Daadi’s flat which was totally different from what I had expected! Indeed I, no all three of us was pleasantly surprised at the interior décor and the latest furnishings! Daadi was known to be frugal and this was quite unlike her! We were in for more surprises.

We reached home in the evening and for a change did not feel any jet lag yet. We were famished though and were eagerly looking forward to pounce on whatever daadi had to offer. Her pantry would always be filled with goodies and she had set up a very high benchmark for her hospitality and to say the least, we were waiting for her to lay the table.

We talked about this and that and out of desperation I told daadi that we were quite hungry. She then went into the kitchen with Dolly trailing behind to help her.

Within minutes she had several dishes laid out and Sanjana and myself raced to savour them. Though everything was presented beautifully, they failed to satisfy our taste buds. Neither were the items filling. I asked Daadi if she had her signature snacks stacked elsewhere, only to be sorely disappointed with her statement – “I am vegan you know and relish all these healthy things very much!”

We then took out our gifts and presented them to her. She just had a cursory glance at them and said, “Oh my God! I am sorry I will not be able to accept any of these. As I do not have any dairy products, I cannot even taste the lovely looking gujiya as it has khoya in it. As far as chaklis are concerned, I am now having only ‘no oil – no boil’ foods, so fried stuff is out of the question. The sari is so rich, pretty and of a beautiful colour, but I am sorry to say that I have stopped wearing saris for quite a few years now. I have my wardrobe full of shirts and pants and I will not be wearing this sari even if you give it to me as I am more comfortable in my suits! The accessories Sanjana had so lovingly chosen for her met the same fate – “I like all that you have brought for me, but see, daadi cannot use any one of them!. All the clips will just slide through my silky bobbed hair!  Please take them back and gift it to someone else who can use them. 

Daadi sensed that we were quite uncomfortable as our hunger had not been satiated and so picked up her smartphone and placed an order for pizzas! She was so updated with the various combos that within ten minutes a variety of pizzas and soft drinks had arrived and Sanjana gladly delved into them!

Since none of our gifts was apt for daadi I asked her what she would like for her birthday. She said that she had already made arrangements for it! My parents had been asked to come down to Mumbai and we all would have a birthday bash in a nearby restaurant. 

When we went to bed that night, Sanjana expressed total disappointment on seeing her daadi hep and happening! “But, Papa, in the photos you showed us, daadi was dressed in a sari with the pallu over her head and now she is slim and trim in slacks with short bobbing hair! This just doesn’t look and feel like daadi” she whimpered.

Daadi after locking up the house came to our room to wish us good night. Sanjana could hold herself no longer and burst out to ask daadi why she had changed her attire. Patiently daadi told her that all the sixty odd years she lived with daadaji, she had to conform to all the traditions and customs. Now that she was alone, she was free to lead her life the way she wanted it! “I wished that at least in my twilight years I would not have to be bound my customs – I am free and am enjoying it!” was her reply.

Daadi’s birthday was a great celebration and when it was time for us to leave, our suitcases were laden with the latest tabs and camera phones for Sanjana; trendy wear for Dolly and digitalized photo albums for me! Ganga zaroor ulti beh rahi thi!!