Remembering ajji

I just read an article on Kendasampige. Written in pristine Dharwad Kannada, the author mentions about a ajji (grandmother) calling him 'Randeganda'. That reminded me of my ajji- my mother's mother. She has called me that many times and have seen her call many.

Please don't go by what it means. It didn't matter whether she wanted to praise me or scold me, this term was always there. There was warmth in that address, there was a feeling of 'mine' in that address.

I used to visit her during my summer and winter vacations. She never stopped me from anything. I was very mischievous. Destroying crops from others fields, harming their cattle, stealing objects, throwing stones at people and behaving as if it was not me are some things that I remember. All these complaints came directly to my grand-parents. But I don't remember even one instance where I was chastised. In particular by my ajji. Never.

She loved me. It didn't matter whether I have scored 1st rank or flunked my tests, it didn't matter if I looked terrible and badly needed a haircut, it didn't matter how many cups or crockery I broke she always had the same love and warmth. I remember how anxious she was when I went 'missing' one day. It was just my prank. I also remember her waiting hungrily for me to return from my tuitions, even when she was over 80, several times when she was at our house for a few months.

That love, that concern, that non-artificiality... I think are gone with her generation. Now it’s all senseless competition, all drama. Whenever we are feeling down and want someone to share it with or just cry on their shoulders, do we really find that someone who actually loves us and we don't have any hesitation in going to them as we are? Don't know where we are heading.

She is gone- 8 years back. I remember her. Feeling a bit low too, I will be fine by morning.