Ammamma.......

Every time I call to get word of what is happening, I’m assaulted by guilt hearing my dad’s somber voice on the phone. It’s like I’m doing her memory disservice every time I’m cracking jokes with my friends or by being able to concentrate on how the internet protocol works that too so soon……

I’m supposed to be distraught, unable to function and studying for the exams should be the last thing on my mind. But after the initial heart-wrenching grief on the news of her passing away and a few occasional outbursts here and there I’ve been relatively normal.

I feel guilty for not seeing her one last time or not being there to support my mother in our loss. I feel guilty for not being there to perform her last rites. I always gloated and teased everybody saying that I was her favorite but when it came to being there for her one last time……I failed.

Maybe the fact that she’s truly gone has not sunk in……Maybe it will sink in when I finally realize that I will no longer have anyone to run behind me to apply kadala podiyum thairum (besan and dahi) on my face or make me the perfect mango milkshakes in summer. It will sink in when I realize the only way I’m going to taste the best fish curry in the world is from my memories of her cooking for me.

What I will miss the most is lying beside her in the afternoons  and listening to stories of the good old days.

Shobha Nambiar was a girl who grew up in an affluent Nambiar family in post-independence Thalassery. For her,applying cuticura powder was a luxury and weekly hair-oiling sessions with her amma would always end up in a lot of tears and quite a few broken hair strands :D. She would tell me stories of being dropped to school by a rickshaw-wala and once having sent him on a wild goose chase from one end of the town to the other for him to return home and find that these girls had already reached home. She would complain of always getting caught in class because of her inability to control her laughter when her friends Beena and Sobhini played pranks.

She would remember the good old days when her family owned a fleet of buses and a number of cows and buffaloes, growing up with a bunch of boys, her uncles by blood(her siblings came much later) and being outraged at having to call them ammava(uncle) and their wives ammayi.

Shobha was married off at the age of 15 to Vijayan Nair who after their marriage went away to complete his degree in agriculture while she now Shobha Nair,was sent to live with her in-laws in Kozhikode where she was heartily accepted and made to feel at home by her new family.

She would tell me how her mother-in-law was a very strict woman who would drape a freshly starched white sari daily and go to the kitchens to instruct the cooks on the menu for the day .She would tell me of my boisterous family members all short-tempered people,who once threw idlis at each other during an argument :D

As soon as Vijayan Nair completed his education, he took his wife to his first posting site where they built their own home. They soon had two daughters Sajitha and Binitha and the four of them led a very self-sufficient and happy family life.

Since Vijayan had a job that got him transferred very often, Sajitha and Binitha were enrolled into a boarding school where they were often visited by their parents.

Shobha always told me that Vijayan was the best husband any girl could hope for. He always taught her new things, encouraged her to be independent and took care of all her needs. Their only point of contention used to be Vijayan’s slight OCD. Apparently he always wanted his socks, his shirts and  pants to be arranged in a particular manner in his cupboard and would always get angry if anything was out of place. Shobha finally quit arranging his clothes for him and started leaving that job for him to do.

When their daughters entered their late-teens, Vijayan and Shobha emigrated to Nigeria for Vijayan’s latest posting. Shobha had a very flamboyant lifestyle while in Nigeria with card parties and such every weekend with the other Indian families in the area. During one such summer when both their daughters were down in Nigeria for a vacation, Vijayan had left the house saying that he’d be back in half an hour.

The next they heard of Vijayan, he had died in a car crash-Shobha and her daughters’ entire world came crashing down.Shobha not only lost her husband that day,she lost a part of her spirit that day. I know for sure that she missed him every day for the rest of her life..

She then single-handedly went on to get Sajitha and Binitha well-settled. Today both of them have lovely families of their own and have gone on to become successful, independent women.

Shobha was widely popular among friends and family for her cooking and hospitality. Even on a day that she was feeling extremely sick she would be ever ready to accept guests and feed them. She also had an adventurous streak in her. She had once for a very short while dappled with the world of spirits and the Ouija board and always had spooky tales to recount of those days.

Shobha, my ammamma, my grandmother passed away on the 20^th of September 22, 2014 after battling an array of diseases for a number of years. As I write this I’m happy because I know that Shobha and Vijayan have finally reunited and are watching over me, Sajitha, Binitha and our entire family and it gives me the strength to take on one day at a time till the pain fades away leaving only fond memories in its place