I remember one of the very first job interviews I attended. In the midst of all the esoteric questions that determined if you got the job or not was a seemingly innocuous one. The question was about my favorite cuisine. What was it and why....and the answer was on my lips straight away, I did not need to think too hard. I did not have to choose between Thai or Italian. I did not need to elaborate on why Pad Thai or Thai Green Curry suited my palate. Neither did Risotto cross my mind nor did Chicken Tikka Masala. Because the answer was straight forward, what I really enjoyed was my Grandma's cooking. Her homemade curries and pickles were unmatched and that was because of the special ingredient you only found there. Nothing could beat her lovingly made spicy hot curries and pickles. And yes, it is not the salt and pepper that matters, what matters is that special ingredient called love.
I am told that as a child, I was a difficult one to manage when getting to go to sleep. You can't fault me for my consistency. My sleep cycle has generally been consistent since those days.....I sleep late and wake up late. In a household where generally folks sleep early and rise early, this was a disruption. I am told my Grandma would stay up late telling me stories, singing her lullabies and trying every trick in the book to get me to sleep. And I know she did that, because the stories she told me are still whispering themselves to me after so many years. Stories from Indian mythology, stories of the Lords , stories of brave men, stories of righteous men, stories that teach you to live your life with dignity. I know she stayed up for me, because the lullabies she sang are still soothing my frayed nerves on those not so wonderful days and nights. And her stories and her lullabies have what no best seller book or Billboard Top 20 song has. It has a soul, a soothing note. And yes, it has what matters most, it has love.
I don't know why I am so nostalgic about Grandma, but, I remember today, the simple joy that permeates everything that she touches. I remember today, most of all the love she showered on us unconditionally. I am grateful for her love and the simple lessons that shaped us grandchildren into what we are today. My first tryst with unconditional love came not from reading about it in a book or in hearing about it in songs. It came from the grand old lady who was there for me unconditionally always. Finally, I remember this story, I am not sure if fully fact or partly fiction. My grandmother was at a spiritual gathering at an aunt's place. A revered spiritual guru was visiting and many folks visited her for her blessings. The spiritual leader took one look at my Grandma and said " Here is a lady who needs attend no lectures or read no scriptures, for on her lap plays the little Krishna". I have often wondered what that meant. Today, I know what that means. It means that there is no higher ideal than love. The little Krishna plays on her lap because of the uncomplicated and unconditional love that she showers on him. Remembering all things Grandma is remembering all things love....
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