Dadi stays in the building adjacent to ours. In Hindi, a grandmother is called Dadi. She lives with her youngest son’s family - with Chachu (my uncle), Chachi (my aunt), Parth and Darsh. Dadi is a septuagenarian, however, the age doesn’t stop her from being active. Before the lockdown happened, she had a set routine. She used to go for ‘Satsang’ (the group that seeks truth) twice in a day and on her return, she would stop at the market to buy fruits and vegetables. She would carry those heavy bags of groceries all by herself and walk back home at her own pace. Any one of her three sons could easily drop her but, she preferred walking to keep herself active. During the lockdown, her routine activities suffered a setback. No one allowed her to go down due to the COVID scare. But, that did not stop my Dadi to find out new ways to pass her time and stay active. She started ‘Satsang’ at home with her neighbour, learnt to use YouTube, made various sweets for all of us after watching videos on YouTube; continued cooking, reading the newspaper, talking to her relatives and friends and always being happy; yet, the one thing that was still missing from her updated schedule was her daily ‘walking’. For almost 9 months, she had not stepped out of the house. We live in apartments, hence, we do not have an open space where one can freely walk. As a repercussion, her legs swelled up and would hurt.
Recently, Sonu papa (her second son, my Chachu) started taking her for walks in the colony at nights after dinner. When I learnt that Dadi, Darsh and Sonu papa go down every night, Gaurav and I also started going with them. We walk one round of the entire colony, then sit on the stone bench right at the entrance of our wing. It is a long, dark grey colour public bench made up of stone. It has been there since the time I was born or maybe even before I was born. Generally, the bench is unoccupied after 10 PM; sometimes, some people sit for 10-15 minutes. But, there is one aunty who is always present there.
Initially, there was no communication the aunty and us. She used to sit in the right-most corner of the bench - that was her spot. We used to sit towards the other corner of the bench - our spot. When we started seeing each other every day, we initially began acknowledging each other’s presence with a smile.
The aunty dresses up in simple, light-coloured and floral-printed salwar kameez - pink, blue, yellow and more colours. She has a dusky complexion with salt and pepper hair and wears a rectangular, metal frame spectacle. She carries a cloth purse with her for her belongings. The aunty always sits there alone but is often joined by someone or the other. She is always on the phone, either checking her messages or talking to people in a rather loud pitch. Since we sit quite close, I can easily overhear her even though I do not mean to. Her conversations are mostly in Sindhi and often start with the greeting, ‘Radha Soami’. Upon doing my research, I learnt that Radha Soami or Radha Swami is a spiritual group started by Shiv Dayal Singh in the late 1800s. It has had many successors since then and is still active with followers all over the world. Apart from attending phone calls, she also talks to many people in society. A few people regularly greet her every time they pass by. Two female domestic helpers spend time with her every day.
The routine kept happening - we would walk, then sit on the bench and smile at the aunty who would be there daily. One day, as we were leaving, the aunty broke the silence and asked Dadi, “Yeh aapki bahu hai kya?” (She thought that I was the daughter-in-law. I don’t know how to react but I am certainly not ready to be anyone’s daughter-in-law anytime soon!!!) Dadi broke into laughter, Darsh was also making fun of me and I was slightly or maybe extremely embarrassed. Anyway, Dadi explained to her that I was her granddaughter and Gaurav was my brother while Darsh was our cousin. After that conversation, we levelled up from simply smiling to greeting ‘Hi aunty’ or ‘Hari Om aunty’.
Dadi would often complain that where we sat, the bench was too low there. She would have difficulty in standing up as her knees would pain. Once we finished our walk and were going to sit but the aunty wasn’t there. So we sat in her corner which was slightly elevated and easier for Dadi to sit too. As we were talking, we saw her approaching the bench. Dadi immediately started getting up and told the aunty, “Usha Ji, aap baitho, aapki seat hai.” (Dear Usha, please sit here, it’s your seat) It is how I learnt that her name was Usha.
She stopped Dadi from getting up and said, “Nahi nahi please aap baitho, mera naam thodi likha hai.” (No, no, please be seated, my name is not engraved on the seat.) Even after my Dadi’s insistence, she was adamant on her decision. This same incident happened once or twice and now, every time we go, even if Usha aunty is sitting in her favourite corner, she shifts on the left to give us space to sit. Even without expressing anything, aunty understood that Dadi prefers that spot for a reason.
I find it incredible how our relationship with Usha aunty built over time. We hardly talk to each other. Yet we wait for her everyday and she waits for us every day. Gaurav has stopped coming since the past few days because of his studies; so she often asks about him, “Vo bada wala nahi aata abhi?” (the elder one doesn’t come nowadays?). Once, Darsh didn’t come because he had an exam the next day. She was missing him and asked, “Chota nahi aaya aaj?” (the little one didn’t come today?). Darsh usually doesn’t sit with us, he wanders off in the colony somewhere to play with his crazy ball or cycle or play some other games. If he is gone for too long, she would get concerned and suddenly ask, “Chota kidhar gaya?” (Where did the little one go?). Twice or thrice we all did not go down because of birthdays at home or a dysfunctional lift. The next day she would enquire why we didn’t come and express that she was awaiting us. Every day, a dog from our colony comes and spends time with us. Usha aunty always tells Darsh to get biscuits for his doggo friend. Sometimes we talk about the weather and complain about it being too hot or too cold or praise it for being pleasant.
I do not have any pictures to share, but I have a video of the cute doggo and Darsh becoming friends. Towards the end, you can hear Usha aunty's voice. She suggests Darsh to get some biscuits for the dog.
Similarly, when we don’t see her, we miss her being. It is a relationship built out of sheer habit. I say it’s a habit because once my mother was also sitting with us and Usha aunty expressed that she was expecting us the previous day but we didn’t turn up. During their conversation, mom uttered these words, “Haan, woh aadat ho jaati hai na ek dusre ko dekhne ki.” (Yes, people get used to seeing each other.) I think that probably inspired me to write this post.
We barely see each other, yet we yearn for each other’s presence. We don’t talk much, yet we want to hear each other’s voices. We happily share that bench with love, without hate. And to share love, we don’t always need a language. Sometimes, all you need is someone’s company.
Vaibhavi
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