The lights won't go out for now

I’m sitting outside the ICU and I hope Granny’s going to be alright. On my way here, I was confronted by a few who were too naive to understand the anguish on my face. They said, “Dude, it’s not your mother, it’s just your grandmother. You’re overreacting.” The ‘just’ part hurt me and I looked at them in disbelief but I chose not to respond. After all, how would they know what Granny meant to me?

When kids think of their childhood, most of the images are of their mother or father. But for me, it was Granny all the way. No, she wasn’t the grandmother whom I’d visit every summer, get fat and return home. She was my world and she still is. Both my parents were working which meant Granny was all I had as a child. The biggest challenge my parents ever faced, in their own words, was handling me as a child. They tried being strict and failed. Granny, on the other hand, only showered love and put me in my place.

Don’t know if this is important but I do remember pretending to be ill just because I wanted to miss school. One wink at Granny and she’d play along. I wasn’t the only mischievous one in the family. She had this mysterious aura around her that radiated majesty and you couldn’t help but be charmed over by it. My hands are trembling and before the pen in my hand falls down, I’ll try telling you as much as I can about her. She was a great storyteller and her stories formed the very essence of my being. I’m grateful that I was bestowed upon with such genes. I know that whatever I’m writing, it’s not easy to read for the transition may not be smooth but I hope you are kind enough to forgive me for I’m writing, sitting outside of an ICU.

She never punished me for all the wrong I did but she did ensure I didn’t repeat a mistake, again with those enigmatic charms. We all have many ups and downs in our life and we also have someone who’d be at our side through all those times. For me, it was Granny. And yeah, she is very good at keeping secrets and now you know how I get away with all the shit I do.

Let me tell you how cool she is. Although there’s an age gap of almost 50 years, we share a lot of our interests. You ask her to play some very old melodies and she plays Billie Jean. You show her a love story and she says it would have been better if one of them had died. You ask her for a Ruskin Bond book and she suggests you read Stephen King. No offense to any of the former ones mentioned here but we both love the latter ones more.

There were a few decisions I had taken impulsively and the world was on its feet to criticize me. She’s probably the only one who believed in me and stood up for me. A lot of people blamed her for my upbringing but soon, a time would come when I proved everyone wrong. At that time, I wanted to teach all my skeptics a lesson but Granny interfered and taught me a lesson in humility. If not for her, I would never have been able to handle any of the successes I’ve had and if I still have any friends left, then it’s because of her. And guess what, the same people who blamed her for raising me now credited her for the same but she credits me for everything I’ve done. How selfless can one get?

I can go on and on with this but I’ll stop here. I can’t really think coherently. I don’t know if this makes any sense to you but I’m not going to end this with a “Thank you for everything, Granny” note for she’s still here and although the doctors say the chances are pretty slim, hope hasn’t deserted me yet. She told me I had to take her out on a date and I will do that once she is fine. Oops! I should have mentioned this earlier but even at her age, she’s so beautiful. She’s my light and light never fades away.

P.S: This is part memoir and part fiction