Remembering 'Akka'

12th March 2017

Donning a white saree like Akka (my grandmother) today, it was amongst her favourite colours as she always wore self-embroidered white faux chiffon handkerchiefs with the initials on the borders always tucked at her waist. She also favoured this colour from the time she entered her widowhood until her death. Crisp white sarees, leather boots and never without foundation and a dab of perfume- that’s how most people remember her.

I have had quite a few influences in life, but it’s her values amongst many other things that have influenced me in so many ways, it would be hard to recount them all. Akka was formidable in her own way with strong opinions and convictions which I reckon comes from the background she hailed from partly because she was exposed to a liberated background that came from a father who favoured education who like her had a strong sense of individuality and also because she had responsibilities earlier in her life. My grandmother Ratnaprabha,(her real name) stood just shy of 5 feet tall but that didn’t stop her from commanding the attention and respect of all. Many a times she was mistaken for a local politician and people parted to give ways at social functions and offered chairs for her to sit. Akka got her moniker ‘Akka’, meaning elder sister in Kannada, as everyone in her household lovingly called her - servants and her younger siblings alike; she remained everyone’s Akka till her last day.

As I write and remember her today I have come to realise that she is one of those timeless people who leave their mark that is neverending. I know very few beings of that ilk. She was someone who had a strong will and determination in trying times and kept her family together and treaded through the drudgery. I hardly remember her telling me stories of hardship instead she always had amusing stories to tell about her earlier life. A zest for life and enthusiastic about learning new things in life, she was an accomplished cook and equally adroit at handcrafts, she was multitalented. A few years ago during one of our conversations she recalled my latest facebook post - a Winchester travelogue where I had visited Austen’s grave and walked John Keats’ path she fondly remembered John Keats and Wordsworth’s ‘Daffodils‘ she studied in her schooldays. Although she only studied till matriculation, her love for reading remained intact till her last days. She was someone who loved being au currant with the latest news and editorials; her favorite past time being solving those myriad word puzzles led her to possess a solid vocabulary in Kannada. Her beautiful handwriting adorn those stack of diaries which she maintained in her lifetime. I remember her often quoting beautiful lines from her diaries she collected in her being.

Today is her 74th birthday. I wish she were here on this day amongst us. Of many things that I have inherited from her is her strong sense of individuality. Being strong and believing in oneself rather than following the norms and adhering to notions of happiness created by society. By being yourself , you negate thoughts of self doubt and conquer fears she said.

I'll live those words for life and celebrate being her my own way. Happy Birthday, Akka ! I would have loved to hear a mellow 'Thank you' from you the other end of the telephone today. Miss you !