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How it Ends.

My maternal grandma passed away today. At 87, she was a vanishing shadow of her glorious past. The cause unknown, she breathed her last, amidst just the hallucinated images of unborn twins, my grandfather, and the heydays of her life. Not a worldly soul around, it was an ironic death, having raised three and almost four generations of children. It was an inconsolable loss to the big branch of the family tree that she left behind. She was a great granddaughter, daughter, wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, great-great-grandmother!

Here was a pretty girl, having won the heart of her husband when young. Married to an intellectual, she upheld the dignity of an almost First Lady with aplomb. As, the pages of her life turned yellow, much like her Vishnu Sahasranama, she was left to fend her dignity amidst property disputes, quarreling siblings and a dead husband.

All alone, here in the US, far away from the warm embraces of my own mother and father, I am reconciling this great loss. Yet, on the other hand, words of a wise man is like a glowing lantern 5 miles away, while I stand in frozen waters on a cold wintry night. The words are there, hapless in the face of my misery. Then again, I heed those words "She led a fulfilling life and accomplished great things. After this, her job was done." She was a fallen leaf at the dawn of day, as Peter Kavanagh puts it. She makes way for fresh leaves, green like the lawn at dawn. I see that freshness of life, the heavy priceless weight of a thought carried since centuries. She had transferred it into my nephew, her great-grandson. I know that he will carry that thought with the same grace with which she carried it.
I see her eyes in him.
I see her walk in him.
I see her curiosity in him.
I see her love for ice cream and bananas in him.
I see her in him.

Although a great tragedy, I think a deeper tragedy would be when the amma or ajji or aye-bai in us dies.

This song from Devotchka is a veiled star, in the night sky, shining is my grandma letting me know, How it Ends........

Hold your grandmother's bible to your breast
Gonna put it to the test
You wanted it to be blessed
And in your heart
You know it to be true
You know what you gotta do
They all depend on you

And you already know
Yet you already know
How this will end

There is no escape
From the slave catcher's songs
For all of the loved ones gone
Forever's not so long
And in your soul
They poked a million holes
But you never let them show
Come on its time to go

And you already know
Yet you already know
How this will end

Now you've seen his face
And you know that there's a place in the sun
For all that you've done
For you and your children
No longer shall you need
You always wanted to believe
Just ask and you'll receive
Beyond your wildest dreams

And you already know
Yet you already know
How this will end

You already know (You already know)
You already know (You already know)
You already know
How this will end

May Laxmibai Subbanagowda Patil (1924 - 2011) Rest in Peace


Sorry for your loss man. Nice write-up.
Vihang said…
Sorry for your loss brother. Take care...
Sorry for your loss Srini. Nimma Ajjiyavara aathmakke shaanthi sigali.
srinaik2020 said…
thanks guys... i appreciate it
Unknown said…
My deepest condolences go out to you. Your grandmother would be proud of your eulogy.
Unknown said…
Late comment, sorry about that.
Extremely sorry for your loss bro.
Beautiful words.

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