I am lucky as opposed to a lot of people in this way that i met all of them.And have visual memories of all.
AT
He was adoreable.He was really skinny and ill a lot.He had a game he played only with me..he would close both his fists and do a lil dance with his hands.(We play that game with kids rememebr,which 'mutti' mein the chocolate or chalk or xyz is there?well this was similar but without anything in the mutti)
He used to mix rice into soft 'muddalu' and feed my sister ,me.He sang strange songs and ryhmes (this is soo heriditary..my mom has it,my sis and i think even i am showing symptoms of it).He came to pick us up from school whenever he could in his chocolate brown coloured Maruthi 800 (Man,what memories i have of that car).I remember this one time I was reciting the phrase we learnt at school all the way back home. "Biting nails is a bad habit"
One fine day,a maid came and told us that the feared had happened.Mom,Sis & Me. (i think dad went before us cause i cant remember him coming with us) left from Fernandes Manzil to Addagutta house (the house i had a wonderful early years of childhood in) and found him.Asleep Forever.
Veeru never got to talk to him.He would have been proud of Veeru.
I wish he was there for a few more years,to teach me maths,to tell me stories,to show me ducks,to travel one last time in that chocolate brown car.
Tata thank you for being a part of my memory.
Bamma.
Where should i start?If there's one person in the world i'd not mind being compared to (and i dont like being compared,trust me) its her.Maybe because i was just soo used to it from the time i could remember. I'll never forget the time one summer when we were doing one of my favourite things,seeing old photos,M Tata showed Ic a snap and said,tell me who this is,and phat came her reply,Li.I dont look anything like her now though.Only my feet remind me of her.(not in terms of length though,i have the bonsai size).I have her voice though(so do alll her sons and one daughter).She spoke Telugu,Kannada (a lil),Tamil,Hindi and understood english.
She was the backbone of her family.She taught her 'tokkudu billa',gave us tiny miny gifts everytime we visited.Pampered us to the core.And evidently once spent one of my uncle's entire salary on buying my sister and me 'vannki' rings.Its one of the only gifts which she gave me which i still have.
The pepsi 'choosing' (pepsi not the coke-pepsi wala thing...this was flavoiured ice in packets,yummm and choosing to be read in hinglish).Trying to cook favourite dishes (well she wasnt much of a cook)
SHe used to tell us stories about our dad and all the uncles,showed us old match box cover collections,stamp collections of my dad,scout's badges.She adored her children.Ya of course they was the side of her who was the 'horrible' m-i-l and who tortured her bahus.
One day i walked from school to home,watching a red mail box and thinking of some silly school thing.And i rang the bell of Ammamma's house,and the first thing she told me while still holding the door was that your Bamma is no more.not to touch anything and just get ready to go.I did not cry.
I will never forget Ashwin the last grandchild to have experienced the love she gave,roaming around the house,slightly lost looking for her.She used to make him stuff with sticks (those kobbari cheepuru waaley sticks).She had made him a pair of glasses,they had broken.
Its so unfair that the remaining grand kids didnt have her around. More so,C and me being the only grand daughthers who got all of it.more than anyone else.
Bamma we still miss you.We may never stop.
AT
He was adoreable.He was really skinny and ill a lot.He had a game he played only with me..he would close both his fists and do a lil dance with his hands.(We play that game with kids rememebr,which 'mutti' mein the chocolate or chalk or xyz is there?well this was similar but without anything in the mutti)
He used to mix rice into soft 'muddalu' and feed my sister ,me.He sang strange songs and ryhmes (this is soo heriditary..my mom has it,my sis and i think even i am showing symptoms of it).He came to pick us up from school whenever he could in his chocolate brown coloured Maruthi 800 (Man,what memories i have of that car).I remember this one time I was reciting the phrase we learnt at school all the way back home. "Biting nails is a bad habit"
One fine day,a maid came and told us that the feared had happened.Mom,Sis & Me. (i think dad went before us cause i cant remember him coming with us) left from Fernandes Manzil to Addagutta house (the house i had a wonderful early years of childhood in) and found him.Asleep Forever.
Veeru never got to talk to him.He would have been proud of Veeru.
I wish he was there for a few more years,to teach me maths,to tell me stories,to show me ducks,to travel one last time in that chocolate brown car.
Tata thank you for being a part of my memory.
Bamma.
Where should i start?If there's one person in the world i'd not mind being compared to (and i dont like being compared,trust me) its her.Maybe because i was just soo used to it from the time i could remember. I'll never forget the time one summer when we were doing one of my favourite things,seeing old photos,M Tata showed Ic a snap and said,tell me who this is,and phat came her reply,Li.I dont look anything like her now though.Only my feet remind me of her.(not in terms of length though,i have the bonsai size).I have her voice though(so do alll her sons and one daughter).She spoke Telugu,Kannada (a lil),Tamil,Hindi and understood english.
She was the backbone of her family.She taught her 'tokkudu billa',gave us tiny miny gifts everytime we visited.Pampered us to the core.And evidently once spent one of my uncle's entire salary on buying my sister and me 'vannki' rings.Its one of the only gifts which she gave me which i still have.
The pepsi 'choosing' (pepsi not the coke-pepsi wala thing...this was flavoiured ice in packets,yummm and choosing to be read in hinglish).Trying to cook favourite dishes (well she wasnt much of a cook)
SHe used to tell us stories about our dad and all the uncles,showed us old match box cover collections,stamp collections of my dad,scout's badges.She adored her children.Ya of course they was the side of her who was the 'horrible' m-i-l and who tortured her bahus.
One day i walked from school to home,watching a red mail box and thinking of some silly school thing.And i rang the bell of Ammamma's house,and the first thing she told me while still holding the door was that your Bamma is no more.not to touch anything and just get ready to go.I did not cry.
I will never forget Ashwin the last grandchild to have experienced the love she gave,roaming around the house,slightly lost looking for her.She used to make him stuff with sticks (those kobbari cheepuru waaley sticks).She had made him a pair of glasses,they had broken.
Its so unfair that the remaining grand kids didnt have her around. More so,C and me being the only grand daughthers who got all of it.more than anyone else.
Bamma we still miss you.We may never stop.
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