As a kid I was very finicky about what I ate, more so about what I absolutely did not, would not. Since my single mom was at work, trying to distract herself and earn a living, I was left in the house, under the watchful eye of my granny- Ammaji. So ultimately the herculean task of feeding me a nutritious lunch was upon her shoulders.
I wasn't very demanding, but I was a little stubborn. I had no wish list as to what I wanted, but alway knew what I just could not bare. Cereals, vegetables and pulses were three enemies I waged a war against, every single day. Ammaji was smart though, she knew that it had to be done, and she knew she had to find an unconventional way. I have always had a passion for stories, words, literature and characters, which proved to be my waterloo in the wars. Each afternoon, a deal was made in the house, a beneficial trade for both parties. Ammaji would start telling us ids a story, mostly about mythological creatures, demons and Gods, and within two seconds of narration, have me wrapped around her fingers. I would listen intently, with 100% focus and attention, my mouth always open in rapture. Ammaji, would keep me under her spell, while feeding me tiny bites of the most outrageously green and tasteless vegetables. In my state of mesmerisation, I'd gobble up everything, not having the faintest idea of what was going inside my system. Hence as Krishna, Ram and Ganesh danced their way into my memory, and helped me learn about the little mythology that I know today, I had a balanced meal and ultimately developed a tasted for some of the veggies.
That is one of my most precious memories of Ammaji. Things got weird as I grew up, we grew distant and developed a difference of opinion on most matters in life. She was a disciplinarian, orthodox and stern in her outlook, I was a rebellious teenager, ready to explore and go against any opposing force. My childhood was spent under her, with her and around her by which I subconsciously imbibed a LOT. After she passed away a few years back, I realised how pertinent she was to my entire existence. I respect her a lot, more than my own mother who had failed me in a few matters. But as far as Ammaji is concerned, she was someone really worth living under, learning under. As an adult, I have a better understanding of so many of her actions, her words which seemed nonsensical at one point of time. I guess wisdom can be acquired with the passage of time, and not really be hastened in any manner. Thankfully, my memory has served me well, and I remember most of what she meant to teach. I guess with her guiding words, and my open mind, I would fare slightly better than my previous generation, and perhaps almost as perfect as the one before theirs.
I wasn't very demanding, but I was a little stubborn. I had no wish list as to what I wanted, but alway knew what I just could not bare. Cereals, vegetables and pulses were three enemies I waged a war against, every single day. Ammaji was smart though, she knew that it had to be done, and she knew she had to find an unconventional way. I have always had a passion for stories, words, literature and characters, which proved to be my waterloo in the wars. Each afternoon, a deal was made in the house, a beneficial trade for both parties. Ammaji would start telling us ids a story, mostly about mythological creatures, demons and Gods, and within two seconds of narration, have me wrapped around her fingers. I would listen intently, with 100% focus and attention, my mouth always open in rapture. Ammaji, would keep me under her spell, while feeding me tiny bites of the most outrageously green and tasteless vegetables. In my state of mesmerisation, I'd gobble up everything, not having the faintest idea of what was going inside my system. Hence as Krishna, Ram and Ganesh danced their way into my memory, and helped me learn about the little mythology that I know today, I had a balanced meal and ultimately developed a tasted for some of the veggies.
That is one of my most precious memories of Ammaji. Things got weird as I grew up, we grew distant and developed a difference of opinion on most matters in life. She was a disciplinarian, orthodox and stern in her outlook, I was a rebellious teenager, ready to explore and go against any opposing force. My childhood was spent under her, with her and around her by which I subconsciously imbibed a LOT. After she passed away a few years back, I realised how pertinent she was to my entire existence. I respect her a lot, more than my own mother who had failed me in a few matters. But as far as Ammaji is concerned, she was someone really worth living under, learning under. As an adult, I have a better understanding of so many of her actions, her words which seemed nonsensical at one point of time. I guess wisdom can be acquired with the passage of time, and not really be hastened in any manner. Thankfully, my memory has served me well, and I remember most of what she meant to teach. I guess with her guiding words, and my open mind, I would fare slightly better than my previous generation, and perhaps almost as perfect as the one before theirs.
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