The train reached the destination at 5.45 a.m. I got down with the luggage and waited for my grandmother to alight too. The next thing I remember was a feeble hoot followed by the train leaving the platform. I ran behind it, shouting out for grandma. But she couldn’t get down.
I have never felt as lonely as I did at that very moment. The agony of separation was so enormous that when I woke up from the dream, I was anxious and could not go back to sleep. I had this nightmare the very first night at boarding school. I remember it vividly.
My grandmother has had the strongest impact on me as a child. She brought me up as my mother was then completing her honours degree.
Grandma was born in pre-Independence India, where middle class women were rarely educated beyond elementary school. But nobody can tell her that. My grandfather was always busy either with office work or reading books. He is a living encyclopaedia but lacks the tact of this world. She would never hesitate to do the work typically considered to be a man’s back then. I have seen her travelling alone, striking really tough real estate deals when my grandfather bought some property, and sometimes dealing with lawyers.
She is the fiercest woman I have ever seen. This negates the “man the hunter” logic of earlier human evolution researchers who argued that all the products of evolution are derived from hunting, where women played a limited role.
Once grandma’s elder brother visited us and told us a story from their childhood, where she confronted a gang of dacoits, telling some fabricated story to scare them. Meanwhile, the men got their arms and readied themselves.
She does understand the Blowfish Effect. A lady of strong persuasive power and quick wit! I haven’t seen her being scared of anything at all. Neither have I seen her limiting herself with the thought that she hadn’t had a full-fledged formal education. And that is what she told me: “Your limitation is in your head.”
When I first heard of the idea of gender stereotypes, I had a hard time believing it as I always saw my grandmother doing everything, boldly and bravely. She did not limit herself to the socially defined gender roles, and that made her a feminist in her own way. She just did what a sensible human being with basic survival instincts should necessarily do in a situation of crisis, irrespective of gender.
I grew up hearing that my physical features resemble grandma’s, especially the high cheekbones and wavy hair. I guess that is why I am very dear to her. She may have seen me as an extension of herself, as primates do when it comes to their offspring. I guess this is the reason why people inherently love their kids. Their genes know they will live beyond their present carrier through the carrier’s progeny.
With my grandma’s health deteriorating, my fear of losing her is growing. I know she is aged and will leave me one day. And I will not be able to do anything, no matter how much I shout or cry.
But I also know she will never really be separated from me. Whenever I look in the mirror, I see a reflection of her in my high cheekbones and wavy hair.
And her steely spirit will always be there with me.
My solace is in my strong belief in the ‘selfish gene theory’, which says that during the process of crossing over, genes are constantly chasing and competing with the counterpart’s genes at optimum fitness for survival. And by this logic, I know my grandmother’s ferocious genes will live through me… and beyond me.
p17divyas@iima.ac.in
