My Grandma’s diary.

"my prized possession"

Dad called me like everyday, he did. These were the few last days at Naharlagun for my parents. They had just retired from their respective jobs and were ready to make a shift to Kolkata.

Almost everyday I could hear my Mom complaining, how tricky was it to pack and load things- more than 30 years of ancient pull through. And If I knew my mother well, she would hate to dump even a needle and treasure it for lifetime.

So, that very morning, Dad informed me that he had discovered my Grandma’s diary, while moving out the furnitures and other stuffs. He was thrilled to read it and wanted to share  the treasure trove with me at the soonest. And in no time, he started reading it out for me, over the phone.

Next moment, I found myself anxiously listening to each word, holding the phone close to my ears. I was slowly identifying a completely new person, a part of my Grandma, I had never known. I was filled with pride.

She wrote about her aspirations, her daily chores, people around her, relationships, nature. And what made it extraordinary, was the perfect composition. Her each emotion got translated so beautifully through words that the reader could actually have an image of the writer, living the experiences.

How daintily she described the beauty of Bangladesh (where she stayed at that point in time). The stillness of Padma river and the boat rides. Her first visit to her mother’s place, after she got married. The changes that she witnessed after her marriage. The more I listened to the pieces, read out by Dad, the more I wanted to grab hold of that diary, look at the sheets, run my fingers through the writings and smell through the pages.

Through this diary, I could identify the greatest talent of writing, my Grandmother had. I could also apprehend the eminence of this lady, through her experiences shared. This diary tells a tale of a young girl. And I am happy to have seen this woman, so closely.

Love you, Thamma. Your ‘Diary’ is, today, the most valuable thing, I possess.

P.S: The actual content of the diary is not shared in order to maintain its privacy.


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