On 10th September this year, I got the news, which sadly I had hoped to never get. My grandmother or Nana as I called her, had passed away.
Nana was my mom, dad, and strongest parental figure in my life. The word home is typically associated with places; my nomadic life has meant that home to me was a person and it was Nana.
Nana was a model citizen. She raised her kids and also tons of our relatives, who came in from Mangalore, got a launchpad at our place and went on to settle in Bombay. She was a fantastic cook. People have been forever raving about Nana’s cooking. Even in her old age Nana continued cooking. I had the blessing of eating Nana’s food for many years. She dedicated her life to her family. She woke up early in the morning and cooked food daily for our huge joint family. One of my core memories from our house in Umerkhadi is waking up daily to see Nana working in the kitchen by the light of a dim yellow light bulb. She dedicated her life to her community; she was a constant figure in our church and well known in our parish community (to many I was “Lily aunty’s grandson”). She worked for the Saint Vincent DePaul society. She sang hymns joyously and loudly in the church. When I was a child I was embarrassed by the tune not being “perfect”, now that I am older and wiser; I realize that people who energetically sing and inspire others are scarce; she moved the congregation.
I admire that Nana, for the most part, wasn’t a silent sufferer; she vocally let people know what she didn’t like about their behaviour (at least at home). Nana loved K-serials; Nana for some reason barely changed channels. Star Plus was just constantly playing in our house for hours on end. She saved the money her kids sent her and bought them houses. She kept in touch with her friends through phone calls, but never got interested in learning the computer or changing to a mobile phone.
Nana deeply emphasized education; she often told me “people can take away anything from you, but they can never take away your education”. Relatedly when I would be goofing off late in the evening watching television, she would scream “Either study or sleep!” and when she saw me leisurely reading fiction books, she let out the accusatory “LIBRARY?!” which conveyed everything to me.
Nana’s end was bittersweet. She had increasing medical issues (a cataract, leg pain, breathing issues) but a mostly good life in her later years. The last issue left her with the need to breathe from an oxygen machine. Nana could barely breathe without the machine for 5-10 minutes. She was very weak yet very spirited. Even when I met her last year (in hindsight for the last time), she first SCOLDED me for not being in touch and I cried. I felt bad about that and knew somewhere that this would be amongst our last meetings. I had long feared that she would die. Ever since I moved to the US, I’ve had an aching sense that something like Nana’s death would happen and I wouldn’t be able to make it home in time. This, sadly, came true. Thanks to visiting her last year, I feel some solace.
Nana often told me that she wanted to pass away peacefully in her sleep. She didn’t want to suffer in the hospital and be in pain. I think her wish was mostly granted. On the day, Nana felt very weak and she told Leslie uncle about it. He called all her kids. Nana passed away a few hours later.
I think Nana was the strongest impression pressed into my being; they say you die twice, once when you die, once when someone utters your name for the last time. I think you can live forever through values you impress upon people. My hope is that I am able to impress upon Maya the ideals of hard-work, discipline, selflessness, and a nurturing spirit that you have impressed upon me.
Rest in Peace. Enjoy heaven Nana.
