The bell rang I was wondering who could it be, too early for the
hubby to come home, unless he has decided to surprise me, nah he was supposed
to attend an office dinner, couldn’t be him. The cable guy, too late for him, I
was mentally ticking off the options of who the visitor was at this late hour
on a wintry evening.
It's one of the safer places in the capital city of Delhi but
still I inadvertently switched on all the lights leading to the front door. A
wee bit apprehensive maybe, but opened the door all the same to find this
charming old lady from our building smiling at me. She had dropped in to say
hello. She enquired about my well being and asked me what I did. It was good
talking to her though I knew that it would be forgotten soon for she has asked
me my name several times in the past and has been to my place earlier too.
Aunty J suffers from memory lapses but I simply adore her innocent manner and
simplicity, such timeless qualities are unfortunately lost by most of us in the
city's maddening rat race.
Her joie de vivre was infectious, she laughed and said spiritedly “isn't
it the perfect weather to meet up with friends and chat". She enquired
about my parents and when I said that I miss them she told me not to be sad for
they wouldn't like to see me feeling sorrowful. I told her about my daughter
who was here for the Christmas break and how for the first week she slept the
entire time and would just get up to eat and then crash out again- just
recuperating from jet lag and a hectic college semester.
She enjoyed my tales about my children's antics in a foreign land
and how they were coping with their demanding engineering studies. Before
leaving she asked me my name again and told me that she would love to have me
visit her. When she was leaving I pressed a jar of marmalade in her hand as I
know she and her husband would enjoy it ... as I recalled she had made it a
point to tell me that they had enjoyed my chutneys and preserves I had gifted
them earlier. I resisted the impulse to write my name on the jar - as long as
she enjoyed it, didn't matter where it came from.
I could not help noticing that how love surmounts illness ... she
might forget trivial stuff but what was very amazing was that she still
remembered her husband's name ... was very bothered that she should be going
home as he would be worrying about her. She is a very keen gardening enthusiast
and even in her 80’s can be seen pottering in the building lawns and diligently
supervising the gardener. I admire her for being an artless person and for
her exceptionally happy and calming disposition. She is ever so full of life
and does everything with a lot of zest.
After she left I came back to my room feeling very joyful, what a
wonderful person Aunty J was ... came so innocuously and brought cheer on a day
when it was grey outside and cold inside. Hope that I too continue
to have the same indomitable spirit and love for life as I get older.
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