Grief is a House

 

 

I’ve been trying to write something for a while now. It’s been 14 days since my life feels a little black and white, 14 days since the uproarious laughter and deafening echoes of shuffling cards surrounding these walls has suddenly been slashed. It feels a little stupid to think I will walk into our Pune house and Nani won’t be there, with my favourite food for lunch and my supply of Khari biscuit for the next few days. What’s absolutely preposterous is, basically our entire family had been there for 2-3 weeks now, and there was nothing quite like all of us being there and living together that she adored. I’m home now, and I’ve never been more homesick. We left at 5am, and I couldn’t stop crying the whole 3hr ride back home. I can’t believe I left the house and Nani didn’t wave me goodbye, didn’t hug me tight and ask me when I’d come next. Nani loved sleeping on terraces. We’d pack it with mattresses and sleep on the terrace, and one such night, it rained, and boy, did we run with the mattresses! All of us went to the new terrace, thinking of how much she would’ve loved sleeping and gossiping under the moon here, and how we were robbed of this. Every day, we’d listen to Nani’s favourite bhajans and it was so calming. All of us sitting together and just thinking of her. Today, mom and I tried to do that from here, but I couldn’t go through with it, without breaking down, because I miss them so damn much. Nani had done it yet again, taken the focus from her and somehow managed to bring us closer. She was one hell of a woman. The impact she had on everyone she met, from us to our extended families, from my friends to Naishu’s friends. I was briefly at Symbi Law School in Pune, and she was so excited that I’d live here with her after Naishu would graduate. Hiru didi, after living with Nani all her life, went to Ahmedabad, so there was this running joke that Naishu replaced Hiru didi, and Nani’s “putra moh” was showing :P It’s true, though, Naishu and Nani were something else.

She was the life of the party. The spotlight, the apple of my eye, the whole shebang. It is so hard to not instantly love someone who cares so deeply, loves like it’s her last day on earth. The way she would watch us eat mangoes and her heart would light up. The echoes of her voice choke me up while I hold in another tear. Gone from my arms, but still held in my heart. My Nani was the sweetest, most amazing person, and I keep saying that because it is just so insanely stupid that she’s no more. They keep saying she’s in a “better place,” but I fail to comprehend what “better” could be, than her most favourite thing in the whole world, all of us here with her, in our new home. How do you adjust to a reality where the ground you’re standing on, is pulled from underneath?