The Iron Lady
While my parents were visiting us, my mom asked me what sweet dish I would like her to make. My immediate response was, “Please make “peda” (milk delights) just like Bhabhi (my paternal Grandma) used to make. Yummy!” I could remember the aroma that it creates and the satisfaction it brings. My Grandmother made these almost every month when we were young and she was old.
She became a grandmother at the age of 36 and a great grandmother in her 60s. I, however, always remembered her as being old because she never dyed her hair. She was a graduate and taught in elementary school until she was married. During a time when girls were denied education, she never allowed the opinion of others to dictate what she could or could not do. She married before turning 18 and was a mother to 8 children. Equal number of boys and girls.
Born in 1926, her life took her from Sindh (now Pakistan) to Adipur (Gujarat, India) then Bahrain followed by Bombay and eventually Dubai. The family moved after the partition and independence of India from the British Empire. She raised all her children mostly alone while my grandfather worked abroad. Our generation cries about the competition and struggles around us today but we fail to recognize that every generation has had their challenges.
Our cherished memory from childhood is the stories she would read to us from the holy books. Randomly she would say, “I have read a new story and I will read it to you.” Without a moment’s hesitation, me and my two brothers would run to her room, climb on her bed to listen to her soothing voice. Sometimes my brother would announce, “You have already read this one” and then blurt out the climax. He had heard more from her obviously since he was older. He eventually read the complete Bhagwat Geeta with her.
She worked throughout her life and was never idle. Every day for my school, she woke me up, gave me kesar milk and a bowl of nuts while my parents slept in. My brothers had afternoon school so the house was quiet when I would leave for the bus. My Grandmother was conservative in clothing but open minded in spirit. Never unsure about judgment and treated her boys as equally as her girls. She always spoke her truth and remained humble throughout her life.
During a joyful time, she would not overly celebrate and over the times of sadness, she never skipped a meal. Both good and bad times were looked at fairly because of her unwavering faith in the almighty. She would praise the lord for the many blessings she lived and believed that God had a plan during the difficult times. She easily passed the reins of command to my mother when she married her beloved son and would adapt to the times that she lived in. For a lady who never touched a cup of tea, or knew how bitter coffee could be, she was very worldly. She was never intimidated by others and was gifted with a sharp mind. When my younger brother bought our first cell phone in the family, she suggested, “Why don’t you take the cordless phone with you when you step out of the home?” In a few weeks she would call many on their ‘hath jo phone’ (A nickname for cellphone).
She used to keep her weight in check, not to maintain her looks but to sustain her good health because she was intelligent to correlate overweight with other hidden health problems. She suffered from arthritis and gradually lost her hearing but never complained. She insisted that these are a form of ‘notices’ that signal that our time on earth is coming to an end. She lived through the death of her beloved husband, a son and a son-in law but never flickered her daily routine and discipline of living life.
The Iron Lady that I knew, had equally divided all her property between her children much prior to India making it a law for inheritance to be distributed equally between sons and daughters in 2005. Although my dad was her favorite and she blessed my mother most, she remained fair to all until the last penny. Even today, after the equal inheritance law in India, brothers continue to manipulate parents’ wealth without sharing with sisters and sometimes parents willingly believe that it should be the right of their sons only.
She witnessed me bringing home my two children for the holidays, heard the heartwarming news of my older brother becoming a father and met my younger brother’s gorgeous fiancee before passing away at the tender age of 85. She walked from our home to the temple daily and was fiercely independent until her last breath. Today when I work at school, I hope I am paying a little tribute to her legacy.
That cold winter evening my mother made 24 pedas. They were deliciously mouthwatering and totally worth the calories. The sweet reminds me of the Iron Lady with a warm heart.
Written by Maloo Gandhi – 1/27/2022