Ghettu's Blog

And so went on the midnight chatter of the two best friends of unmatched age. One was an old woman with a wrinkled face, dilapidated teeth, but an extremely rejuvenating and warm smile – a smile that is enough to make a rough and hectic day smooth. Another was a young girl, bubbling with inexhaustible energy.

Now let me introduce you to the protagonists of the story, Amma, my role model, and my very humble self.

Amma is an integral part of my childhood. A lady without whom growing up would have been so dull. She is a person whose positive influence has molded me into the person I am today, had she not been by my side always, through thick and thin, I wouldn’t have realized the important role of care, affection and unconditional love plays in the bringing up of a child.

I first met Amma when I was just a few minutes old. New to the complications of the world, being transferred from one person and being treated as nothing less of a toy, I was badly seeking for a person whose warmth and love would give me the opportunity to let out a sigh of relief. Then came Amma. She took me into her steady arms, embraced me with utmost love, and rocked me off to sleep. That was the moment when I felt a strong connection with her. I was convinced that she would never let me down, and never ever let me fail.

Amma was an excellent storyteller. Her stock of experiences and stories will without ambiguity beat that of Satyajit Ray’s fictional character, Tarinikhuro. Stories were the common platform of interest we shared. Through the process of narrating stories, Amma often imparted supreme life lessons that I am very certain nobody else would have been able to.

The number of fond childhood remembrances I share with Amma is infinite. My favourite dearest amateur interests ranged from cuddling up in a ball in Amma’s lap to visit the mystifying and enigmatic world of fairies and nymphs, to exasperating Amma with my bizarre but well-planned antics.

Amma’s stories had a distinctive way to enchant and captivate me. The purpose of her storytelling was not to guide me as to how to think, but to give me questions to think upon. Her stories had no definite beginning or end; she arbitrarily chose that moment of experience from which to look back or to look ahead.

As I had mentioned earlier, Amma was the truest friend that I ever had. She was my confidant; I couldn’t feel comforted without sharing every triviality of the day with her. She always entertained all my weird exigencies without any paroxysm. When the entire world went against her pampering me and meeting all my demands, she stood by me like a firm rock; and I knew under her shelter, no problem could ever dare to come my way. Amma’s boundless patience was her essential quality which I commended and revered the most. She believed that patience is the key to paradise, and thus dealt every situation tactfully with patience and calmness.

Amma, in totality as a person, was my comfort zone. Age is just a case of mind over matter; she never did mind stooping down to my age; and so it didn’t matter. Her love was strong and deep; filled with memories to cherish and keep. She was a little bit teacher, a little bit parent and a little bit best friend. Although she may not be physically present with me, she will always be enclosed in the deepest corner of my heart, as my most coveted possession.