A love like no other

It is strange how a tune, a whiff of perfume or a taste can evoke strong memories from days bygone.  Today, I was listening to Lata's mellifluous voice singing "Allah tero naam" in the car on the way home.  Not sure if the neurons in my brain were connecting this song to an old memory from when I was growing up or what...but memories of my mom and her gentle way of life flooded my mind.  Until she was physically able, my mom always took every opportunity to visit us so she could spend time with her grandchildren.  Even undertaking the long, tiring journey alone once to visit us.  Towards the end, she insisted that she wasn't able to...which I found hard to believe...until I realized only too late why she was saying so.  My eyes welled up with tears as I remembered my mom's frail body as she lay gasping for her last breath. 

O saare jag ke rakhwaale,

Nirbal ko bal dene waale...

Deh bina, daata

Deh bina bhatke naa pran...

 It was older A's birth that was the incentive for my parents to make their first trip to the US.  They visited many times after that, each time putting their lives on hold so they could spend time with their dear grandchildren and us.  Each time, they would undertake the arduous journey, travel to a foreign land and stay in a home that wasn't theirs.  I used to fight with them saying that they should treat our house as theirs...but like my mom would say - "our house is our house".  

For my mom, there was no other who could compare with older A - he could do no wrong.  Perhaps since he was born under the star of her favorite god!  But he too shared a unique bond with his "Ajji Bhargavi", the name he gave her...which later little A picked up.  My mom fondly remembered the time when her leg was hurting and A wiped some baby lotion from his face and applied it to her leg and said that it would get better soon.  Such was their relationship. Even now when I scold A for something, her words echo in my mind, when she asked me not to be too hard on him...that he was a good boy.

 

This is a picture we took  in a park on a beautiful, sunny summer day.  Countless times, I have left little A in the care of my mom without a tinge of worry, since I knew that she would get all the attention and love from my mom...perhaps a lot more than I had patience for!  This was the last time my parents made the trip together to visit us.

How can I forget my dad's patience and sheer joy he felt so deeply, in the company of his grandchildren?  Right from the moment older A was born...to patiently walking little A up and down since she cried when she was put down in the crib.  This picture shall forever signify the love and joy both my parents shared for their grandchildren.  Our kids shall forever remember their "Hayu thatha" and "Ajji Bhargavi" for what they have given them - their unconditional love and precious days of their lives.  



Today, the kids share a deep, close bond with their Hayu thatha and love visiting him in Bangalore or having him over.  The love grandparents shower on their grandkids is a special gift and indeed a love like no other.

To grandparents!