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Vimmi-ajji and Amma followed their hearts inspite of the obstacles in their lives, and here they are, the coolest grandma's the kids can ask for!
Vimmi-ajji and Amma followed their hearts inspite of the obstacles in their lives, and here they are, the coolest grandma’s the kids can ask for!
Dawn at no.8 Devanhalli is unlike the musical strains of Amanda Shankar’s “Dawn at Varanasi.” If dawn at Varanasi takes you through the ethereal (though imaginary) sounds of Varanasi, dawn at Devanhalli is very real. And very southern with wafting coffee, Amma pounding on her Dell laptop which has replaced her portable Tippa Typewriter, Vimmi-ajji just waking up.
“Sheela”, she called out to Amma, “I’ll have coffee, brush madidanantra” making sure that the coffee would be ready by the time she came after her morning routine of brushing her teeth, then her hair and tidying her sari. As Amma was getting the coffee ready, Vimmi-ajji went through the outdated collections of cassette’s and CD’s that were on the table.
“Are you still with these?” she asked my mother.
Vimmi- ajji is Vimala Rao, my mother’s aunt though only half a decade older than her. Somehow she intimidated my otherwise authoritarian mother. For me, it is an interesting dynamic to watch.
Vimi-ajji, like I told you, is Vimala Rao who retired as the Principle of a school where she taught geography. What is amazing about her is not that she did her B.Ed after her kids started school, but the fact that she did not let widowhood depress her. She just went on to do what her husband and she had planned to do after she retired, that globe trot. Vimi-ajji is an amazing storyteller.
As Amma is getting her coffee, she has my daughters Tee and Jay totally fascinated with her rendering.
“Wilma-ajji nivu, mountain climb maadidra” enquired my daughter, her 5yr. old eyes wide open, images of seventy-four-year-old Vimmi-ajji climbing up a mountain seemed so improbable.
“Of course jay,”
“Wilma-ajji in all your travel what did you like best?”
“Tell me, tell me” Jay began her ditty. “No, tell us the mountain gorilla story”
“Let her finish her coffee first” was amma’s contribution.
“Okay, here is the deal”, Vimmi-ajji said, “Equator story over breakfast and Mountain Gorilla over lunch”
“What is ekaator?” Jay whispered to Tee
“It is a line in the middle of the earth, everything above it is northern hemisphere and everything below it the southern hemisphere”, Jay explained.
Vimmi-ajji took the kids to the sink, she let out the water, added a drop of ink. “Now tell me how is the ink going.”
“Clockwise”, replied Tee
“Andre… what?”, asked Jay
“Look at the water moving. It is moving exactly like the second’s hand of the watch, allwa?”
“Howdu” agreed Jay, ‘that is called clockwise’ explained Vimmi-ajji.
“Water always goes down the sink, or whirlpools occur, clockwise on the northern hemisphere.”
By this time Amma joined the conversation too. Though Vimmi-ajji intimidated Amma, Amma could be quite formidable too. She taught math and physics and was equally well travelled. Of course, Amma lost out on storytelling, she will pick up the atlas and give a geography lesson!! Unlike her aunt, my mother is with great difficulty 5 ft. She is aggressively independent.
“Sheela where was that place?”
“Laipikia or something similar sounding county”, replied mom.
“Laipikia is the county, that is right but the town…it sounded like Nankatai”
“Yes Nanyuki”, Vimmi-ajji agreed “remember we discussed how Chinese it sounded.”
“Oh! Yes” Amma added, “we had gone another 4- 5km.”
“On one side of the equator the water goes clockwise and when you cross the equator it goes anticlockwise.” Tee and Jay were totally fascinated, “we didn’t check the magnetism did we?” asked Amma.
“Oh! Do the magnets change too?”, wondered Vimmi-ajji.
“Logically it should”, argued amma, “after all magnets are about polarity too.”
“Did you see the water whipping?”, demanded Jay.
“Water swirls, putti and yes we did see it.” assured both Amma and Vimmi-ajji.
“That’s enough. Let’s have breakfast.” I called out herding them to the breakfast table. As I was laying out the table, Jay pulled out a chalk and drew a line on the floor, it called it “ekator” with a glass of water she would skip on either side of the line, twirling her wrist clockwise while stood on one side and anticlockwise when she stepped on the other side of the line.
“Jay, your line is running from north to south, it is not the equator, and do you know what the line that runs from north to south is called?”
“Longitude”, answered Tee
“Yes, you should get your amma to tell you the story of the Greenwich Meridian.”
“Not now makkale, after I cook lunch”, was amma’s reply as she ran into the kitchen. Jay turned on her iPod which went, ”why this Kolaveri Kolaveri di” Just as I left for my clinic, I saw my daughters, swaying to the rhythm with their great-aunt Vimmi-ajji giving them company.
Image source: pexels
Dentist, Hypnotherapist and Hypnotherapy trainer, Medical writer, published author, Blogger, Theater activist and trainer, Toastmasters AC. When I am not in my primary role of mother and Healer I wear whatever hat that I fancy. read more...
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I huffed, puffed and panted up the hill, taking many rest breaks along the way. My calf muscles pained, my heart protested, and my breathing became heavy at one stage.
“Let’s turn back,” my husband remarked. We stood at the foot of Shravanbelagola – one of the most revered Jain pilgrimage centres. “We will not climb the hill,” he continued.
My husband and I were vacationing in Karnataka. It was the month of May, and even at the early hour of 8 am in the morning, the sun scorched our backs. After visiting Bangalore and Mysore, we had made a planned stop at this holy site in the Southern part of the state en route to Hosur. Even while planning our vacation, my husband was very excited at the prospect of visiting this place and the 18 m high statue of Lord Gometeshwara, considered one of the world’s tallest free-standing monolithic statues.
What we hadn’t bargained for was there would be 1001 granite steps that needed to be climbed to have a close-up view of this colossal magic three thousand feet above sea level on a hilltop. It would be an understatement to term it as an arduous climb.
Why is the Social Media trend of young mothers of boys captioning their parenting video “Dear future Daughter-in-Law, you are welcome” deeply problematic and disturbing to me as a young mother of a girl?
I have recently come across a trend on social media started by young mothers of boys who share videos where they teach their sons to be sensitive and understanding and also make them actively participate in household chores.
However, the problematic part of this trend is that such reels or videos are almost always captioned, “To my future daughter-in-law, you are welcome.” I know your intentions are positive, but I would like to point out how you are failing the very purpose you wanted to accomplish by captioning the videos like this.
I know you are hurt—perhaps by a domestic household that lacks empathy, by a partner who either is emotionally unavailable, is a man-child adding to your burden of parenting instead of sharing it, or who is simply backed by overprotective and abusive in-laws who do not understand the tiring journey of a working woman left without any rest as doing the household chores timely is her responsibility only.
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