Grandma Beauty was not really what one would call a traditional beauty, but her name has stuck with her even in her hallowed eighty-fourth year. The fairest of seven siblings, she happens to be the youngest of my mother’s four aunts and two uncles. My grandma was Bina, and then came Bela, Chini (sugar), Choto (or the youngster), Kutti (the little one) and Beauty. Why the brothers were called by their formal names of Shyamal and Amal has always been a mystery to me.
Born in an affluent family when the British ruled India, she married a handsome officer in the merchant navy in her late teens and moved into a rented three-storied house in an upscale neighborhood in Kolkata. She shared her home with Grandma Choto and her husband, Choto living on the third floor while Grandma Beauty had her household spread on the first and second floors. Both couples were very much in love, and though they did not have any children, grandma Beauty had enough nieces and nephews to keep her busy. However what she enjoyed was keeping track of all the happenings in her family and extended family, and narrating them with a relish. Each piece of news was chosen with care and bestowed on carefully selected recipients, some of whom referred to her as a nasty gossip.
A nephew’s success was narrated with pride to another who was not so fortunate, or a niece’s mansion was described in detail to someone who lived in a tiny rented apartment. A distant relative’s academic achievement was endured by a college dropout and her parents. But the same grandson after a nasty divorce had to patiently listen to the accounts of other happy marriages.
Perhaps she never had any intention of hurting anyone, and some of us still give her the benefit of doubt. This curiosity about other people and their affairs came naturally to her. As children, we loved to visit her stately home for it was filled with curios and period pieces which grandpa had collected from different parts of the world during his employment with the merchant navy. We would gently touch a porcelain doll, or gaze in wonder at a carousal, oblivious to the fact that our parents were eager to leave. She smiled animatedly while telling my dad about a cousin whose husband had bought an expensive car. This scored a sore point with my dad as he took a joyous pride in his used (second hand) fiat, and he found it hard to forgive grandma Beauty for years to come. Our visits to her house lessened, with my mother dropping by on rare occasions to check on her welfare.
A decade back grandma Beauty lost her husband of sixty years, and my mother who has always been attached to her aunts, resumed her visits. Financially, grandma Beauty and Grandma Choto were not doing too well, and my mom and some of the cousins chipped in to help their aunts. The landlord had sold the house the sisters lived in and the new owners were threatening to evict them.
But grandma Beauty was unfazed by the turn of events, and maybe, to fill the void created by the passing away of her husband, seemed even more interested in our lives. And somehow this kept our extended family connected! Being concerned with our own affairs is a malaise of the modern world. Where her gossip had been intolerable in the eighties and nineties, in the current decade her home was the place for hot gossip. She enjoyed the company of her visitors and welcomed all with steaming cups of tea; for a bad knee forced her to spend most of her days indoors.
Few months back, my parents decided to take grandma Beauty and grandma Choto to a nearby temple. By then dad had sold off his used car and had rented a nice air-conditioned SUV for the trip. When they arrived at grandma Beauty’s house in the morning, the sisters were all ready and waiting. Maa gently settled grandma Beauty and grandma Choto in the car, tucking them in with shawls. Grandma beauty asked dad if the car was air-conditioned and with a tiny smile he replied that it was. She turned to her sister and remarked that the air felt cool and nice.
Somehow she did not say much after that. She ate the offerings at the temple with relish, asked for seconds, appreciating the calm serenity of the surroundings. Throughout the ride back she gazed at her familiar Kolkata, perhaps mulling on the unfamiliarity of it all.
.....And that day onwards, dad has been a clear winner among all the relatives:)
Born in an affluent family when the British ruled India, she married a handsome officer in the merchant navy in her late teens and moved into a rented three-storied house in an upscale neighborhood in Kolkata. She shared her home with Grandma Choto and her husband, Choto living on the third floor while Grandma Beauty had her household spread on the first and second floors. Both couples were very much in love, and though they did not have any children, grandma Beauty had enough nieces and nephews to keep her busy. However what she enjoyed was keeping track of all the happenings in her family and extended family, and narrating them with a relish. Each piece of news was chosen with care and bestowed on carefully selected recipients, some of whom referred to her as a nasty gossip.
A nephew’s success was narrated with pride to another who was not so fortunate, or a niece’s mansion was described in detail to someone who lived in a tiny rented apartment. A distant relative’s academic achievement was endured by a college dropout and her parents. But the same grandson after a nasty divorce had to patiently listen to the accounts of other happy marriages.
Perhaps she never had any intention of hurting anyone, and some of us still give her the benefit of doubt. This curiosity about other people and their affairs came naturally to her. As children, we loved to visit her stately home for it was filled with curios and period pieces which grandpa had collected from different parts of the world during his employment with the merchant navy. We would gently touch a porcelain doll, or gaze in wonder at a carousal, oblivious to the fact that our parents were eager to leave. She smiled animatedly while telling my dad about a cousin whose husband had bought an expensive car. This scored a sore point with my dad as he took a joyous pride in his used (second hand) fiat, and he found it hard to forgive grandma Beauty for years to come. Our visits to her house lessened, with my mother dropping by on rare occasions to check on her welfare.
A decade back grandma Beauty lost her husband of sixty years, and my mother who has always been attached to her aunts, resumed her visits. Financially, grandma Beauty and Grandma Choto were not doing too well, and my mom and some of the cousins chipped in to help their aunts. The landlord had sold the house the sisters lived in and the new owners were threatening to evict them.
But grandma Beauty was unfazed by the turn of events, and maybe, to fill the void created by the passing away of her husband, seemed even more interested in our lives. And somehow this kept our extended family connected! Being concerned with our own affairs is a malaise of the modern world. Where her gossip had been intolerable in the eighties and nineties, in the current decade her home was the place for hot gossip. She enjoyed the company of her visitors and welcomed all with steaming cups of tea; for a bad knee forced her to spend most of her days indoors.
Few months back, my parents decided to take grandma Beauty and grandma Choto to a nearby temple. By then dad had sold off his used car and had rented a nice air-conditioned SUV for the trip. When they arrived at grandma Beauty’s house in the morning, the sisters were all ready and waiting. Maa gently settled grandma Beauty and grandma Choto in the car, tucking them in with shawls. Grandma beauty asked dad if the car was air-conditioned and with a tiny smile he replied that it was. She turned to her sister and remarked that the air felt cool and nice.
Somehow she did not say much after that. She ate the offerings at the temple with relish, asked for seconds, appreciating the calm serenity of the surroundings. Throughout the ride back she gazed at her familiar Kolkata, perhaps mulling on the unfamiliarity of it all.
.....And that day onwards, dad has been a clear winner among all the relatives:)
