30th July 2019. A call from my dad woke me up. I checked the time: 6:30 am. I should have realised that early morning calls do not bode well, but I was too sleepy to notice. My dad said there was some sad news, and a groggy me asked him to go on, without fully comprehending what was being said. ” Giti aunty is no more”. It took me a few seconds to process, after which the shock and denial crept in.  My mom was at aunty’s place in Bangalore, and hardly 10 hours ago, aunty had sent me pictures of the fun things she and mom had done. Yes, she had been unwell for quite some time. But hadn’t she always fought strongly?

 My mind went back to the very first memory I had of aunty on a Friday evening in Kolkata; the day she told the 1st of the many stories she has passed on to me.

“…., and that is why we do not say the word snake after dark. If we happen to do it by mistake, we take Astika muni’s name thrice” Giti aunty completed her story while Chinmayee, aunty’s 5-year-old daughter and a 6-year-old me attacked the food kept before us. We had met a few weeks earlier, in the dance class that Chinmayee and I used to attend, and instant friendships were formed. A few months later, my dad got transferred, and we moved to Bangalore. Lack of technology resulted in lost phone numbers, and we lost contact with Giti aunty. But some connections are so strong that they find a way to flourish. Almost a year after we moved, aunty found our number through mutual friends and called to inform that uncle had a job offer in Bangalore and they would be moving in a few days. That was the beginning of the formation of a bond stronger than that of blood.

We would visit each other’s houses at least 2-3 times a month(which gradually increased in number). Chinmayee and I gave each other nicknames, Jinni for her and Dipu for me. Aunty and my mom would try making new dishes while Jinni and I played. Uncle and dad met for the 1st time in Bangalore, and they connected instantly. We celebrated birthdays and festivals together, went on long drives, and had fun. What started as a friendship became an unbreakable bond. Three years later, my dad got transferred, and we left Bangalore, but our relationship strengthened. Not one day would go by without my mom and aunty talking over call, and that continued till the last day. Hence, it would come as no surprise the impact aunty had on me.

For me, she has been a 2nd mom, the one who not only cared for me but told me about a ton of topics my mom was clueless about. She gave me my 1st bathrobe and explained why it had a pocket. Aunty loved buying stuff for others. That’s how half my wardrobe was filled. She would buy something, call, and say that I liked this so bought it for you.  And all my protests of having too many clothes would be met with a fixed argument-” This is the age for it. Also, you are my elder daughter, and I will hear nothing more.” This was also what she did the day before her passing. She went shopping and bought a dress for my birthday, along with gifts for many others.

There is no single word to describe my relationship with her. I would not have spoken to her for months on end but could still take the phone from my mom and talk about every topic under the sun. My birthdays never started without a phone call from her. The joy she got from little things was something I always admired. I gifted her a small thing after getting my internship stipend, and she told about it to every single person she knew.

I last met her in Dec 2018 after a gap of 4.5 years. She was so excited that she cooked a wide array of delicacies. We spent the entire day talking about a myriad of things and then went on a drive reliving old memories. The next day, Jinni and I dressed up and took tonnes of pictures. While I left, we made plans of catching up again like the old times. That plan, sadly, never materialised.

The amount of love that she had for giving was tremendous. My friend had met her for a few hours yet felt like she had known aunty forever. Even though her illness made life difficult, she spread smiles and made others’ lives better. In the last few days of life, she saw movies to her heart’s content, went shopping, and did a lot of things she hadn’t done in long. And I really hope she was happy in those last few moments. I may never be able to hug her again, but I can still hear her melodious voice calling out my name, ready to pass on a piece of gossip.

I was recently talking to a friend, and the topic moved to a mutual friend of ours. “Dude!”, my friend exclaimed, “ What he (our mutual friend) is doing is madness!”. I could only say that maybe it is his coping mechanism, but that got me thinking.
Do any of my actions appear downright crazy to an outsider? Do the actions I perform to cope up seem silly and unnecessary to an onlooker? Maybe they do. Perhaps, the things I value are different from what they consider important, and when their world seems to be falling apart, they will do things which would make no sense to me. I had a classmate whose world revolved around marks. She could go to any possible extent to ensure she got the maximum possible grades, and if they were affected, she would be distraught. Initially, it made no sense to me, but years later, I realised that it was the effect of everything she had seen and heard since her childhood.
Everyone has different priorities, different values, and different struggles. The very place that some people hate may be a haven for others. To some of my friends, the place we are living in feels like a prison. Yet, a dog who had been adopted from here escaped and came back because it felt like home, even though this place has no covered place for her to stay. The things that come easily to some people might be the very thing someone else is struggling to achieve. It seems that we never get what we want, doesn’t it? I always feel like the areas of life that I value the most are the ones which evade me or give me problems. And, things which are not high on my priority list magically make their way into my life. Maybe it is for the best, and things will eventually work out. But that doesn’t reduce the pain of not getting what one wants, does it?
We are all fighting battles in our daily lives. Some may seem simpler than others, but none of them are easy. We never know how much something affects another person until we walk in their shoes. So maybe, let’s not judge each other, be kind, and make the journey easier for others?

Humans, supposed to be one of the most intelligent beings on Earth, are probably the only ones who believe in an unseen higher power who can drastically affect their lives. From our childhood, most of us humans have been taught to pray and believe in God. Many among us have also experienced the presence of the Almighty in ways of fulfilled wishes, unexpected results and inexplicable happenings. I, on the other hand, had a very unique experience of being chased by the Supreme Power of the universe.

This incident occurred in the summer of 2004 in my maternal grandfather’s village. At that time, it was a typical Indian village- it had mud tracks, very less accessibility, electricity for only an hour a day, and a prevalent open defecation system. The majority of the population was involved in farming, so, during the summer months houses were filled with the season’s harvest.  In my grandpa’s house, for example, the room near the entrance was filled with potatoes while the courtyard had more than  100 tender coconuts.

One fine evening, when we kids were playing and grandmas were busy gossiping about their lazy daughter-in-laws, the village had a guest. He came out of the blue, the seemingly calm, innocent faced, two legged creature.We all gathered around him, as it was the first time in years that one of his clan had visited the village. An old lady, bent with age and thus considered to be very wise, went as far as to tell us that he was the incarnation of God and hence should be fed. While the elders were contemplating on the best item to be used as an offering, our beloved guest decided to exit. Disappointed on losing an opportunity to be in the good graces of the Lord, people started speculating on why He decided to leave.

The next morning, everyone was pleasantly surprised to find Him waiting for the service of the villagers. Not wanting to repeat their mistakes of the previous day, everyone hurried to bring the honourable guest whatever food items they could lay their hands on. My cousin sister and I, not wanting to be left out, brought Him pieces of coconut. All the devotees crowded around Him and started offering food. Such a kind soul, He did not reject any one’s offering. After we were all done pleasing the Almighty, our visitor did an unexpected thing. He started chasing us. It was probably an indication for us to start working out and lose weight, but nevertheless, we were frightened. And we all ran. Faster than Usain Bolt, faster than even a rocket. We ran till we found an open door, and people started running in. Sadly, my cousin and I were last in the line of running people, and the open house was almost filled. My cousin, luckily, had the presence of mind to continue running till our house. I blindly followed her inside, and was followed by the Lord. Our dear God, luckily(or unluckily?), did not follow us deep into the house as He had seen a room that interested him. It was the room filled with potatoes. To our dismay, His hunger had not been satiated by our offerings, and He decided to devour the raw potatoes. Seeing this, my aunt came running with a spatula in her hand, screaming furiously and asking our visitor to get out. I was shocked seeing the sudden change in attitude towards our revered guest. I guess the change occured because the Lord was eating into sources of profit. Anyhow, our visitor stayed for a few more hours, till my uncle came home from the farm and was able to shoo Him away.

Later in the day, when we kids were discussing about the fun we had with the Lord, the same old lady who had named Him an incarnation of God, and later had to run when Her God chased His devotees, came and interrupted us.

“ Don’t call that Monkey Lord Hanuman.”