An intimate mail I wrote detailing my difficulty sleeping after my grandmother's demise.
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Hi,
I haven’t been writing for the past 5 days for a reason. I needed both time and energy to resume my normal activities.
It is 1.58 AM and I don’t give a shit. My throat feels like a piston with spikes. It’s probably a toxic combination of cigarette withdrawal and a half-assed make-out with an infected participant( note to self — don’t go giddy on the easy coochie — they don’t solve anything). I am sitting alone in my balcony office, having downed my third cup of coffee, because I don’t want to go to sleep tonight. I have some work left over, but that’s not why. I will tell you all why.
Three years ago, around this time my grandpa( nana ) passed away after a brief battle with cancer. We were close. Like most people in my family, he loved me and was proud of me. He was my first official English teacher. During his twilight years, I was his occasional dictionary. He was proud of me and I was of him. His demise coincided with a dark time in my life. I had trouble sleeping the next few days, and on most occasions, I would wake up and feel like shit. Then one fine day(about a month later), after some of the winter clouds had drifted too close to the sun, I slept a long warm sleep. I saw him in my dream that night. I vividly remember that dream. In that dream Everyone had gathered in my Ranchi home. We seemed to be discussing some arbitrary topic amongst ourselves — my mom, dad, sister, and the rest of the MAHARAJ family — coincidentally in the puja room. We were all chatting and rejoicing, and Nana came back from the market in his legendary 2 rupees dilapidated( repaired for the umpteenth time) boots, with a home-sewn(sewn by my grandma) bag wound over his shoulder. The bag had vegetables from the local market. Somehow I always picture him busy with some work. He entered the room and put the bag down on the floor. I turned towards him and browed up — as if to ask — “Aap yahaan kaise”. And he responded smiling without saying a word — “Yahin toh the hamesha”. And I woke up. I called my big brother(Shekhar) and told him about it. We shared a few tears over the phone — the kind where you don’t need to hear the sniffles to know that tears are rolling down on the other end of the line.
That was officially the last time I saw my nana. I think he came to say a proper goodbye. I really never saw him again. My sister used to joke about Coco barking at walls in the dark — “Nana dikhte hain isko”, but I knew that wasn’t real because — he had already left.
As some of you might know my nani(mamma) passed away 10 days ago. I need a moment’s pause after even typing that sentence. I never pictured a world where that was possible. I didn’t picture a world where she could get sick beyond relief or recovery. She had a dominating presence. She commanded authority. She was a serious landlady and people felt her presence. It might be a cliche for some, but seriously — I didn’t grow up with 1 mother, I had several. Mamma(my grandma) and Mummy were not 2 different characters to me. She literally raised me for a couple of years when my mother had it hard at work. I met and interacted with her at every stage of my life — be it my kindergarten, my teenage years, my JEE prep days, mid-semester breaks, etc. There would not be a single moment where she wouldn’t smile at my presence. Most of all, I enjoyed that. I loved the fact that she would glow at my presence. Right after my nana’s demise, the first Coivd wave hit. I demanded she flow over to Ranchi — to stay with me. She had taken Nana’s death really hard, but I knew — she would be happy around me and Maa. We had a great time, chilling during my lunch breaks, drinking on weekends, cooking lessons that I never took etc.
I was so spoilt for her company, that it never occurred to me that they could be her last. Even in the last few months, I felt if I turned up at the hospital to see her, if I made her smile, if I gave blood at the bank, she would take notice and magically recover.
She did not. She could not. She’s no more.
I still don’t think I am ready for that reality. I am not sure if I am ready to see her for the last time in my dreams. And that! is why I am afraid to sleep.
Regards,
Anish