"You must be Shambu Mami's granddaughter. You look exactly like her", someone exclaimed when I was visiting my mother a couple of years back. It turned out that the lady had been my grandmother's neighbour, and had memories to share. Though I was touched that someone remembered Patti years after she had passed away, what gave me a greater thrill was realizing that I look like my favourite grandmother. Can there be any greater joy than that?
I always had a special bond with Patti. When I was three months old, my grandparents engaged a professional photographer to take photographs of me with all my relatives. Even in that photograph, I was cheerfully communicating with her. What we spoke about then, I don't remember, but I do remember most of the subsequent conversations we had. Each completely enriching.
Married in her early teens to a hot-heated scientist, she was a fiercely independent lady. Though she grew up speaking Tamil and Telugu, she easily picked up Hindi when her husband was posted in Bombay. English was harder, and when she found it difficult to converse with the wives of her husband's colleagues, she asked him to teach her the language. In his inevitable style, my grandfather thrust a copy of Shakespeare on her and told her she would pick up the language if she read it. Patti didn't fall for that trick, and she engaged a tutor to teach her English and gained fluency in just a few months.
Somewhere along the line, she got addicted to crime fiction and legal thrillers. While my grandfather was trying to get a teenage me to read Dickens and Shaw, she slipped me a Perry Mason and said I'd probably enjoy it more. I didn't, but I did learn that the purpose of reading need not be elucidation, it could be also be fun.
Patti hadn't studied beyond grade 5, but she made sure all three daughters completed their undergraduate studies before marriage. However, her one big regret was that she didn't encourage her daughters to get professionally qualified. She made amends by ensuring her granddaughter did not make the same mistake.
"No matter what anyone tells you", she told me the summer before she passed away, "do not even contemplate getting married before you are financially and emotionally independent." She had seen too many marriages fall apart, and didn't want her granddaughter staying in a bad marriage because she didn't have any other options. I didn't realize it then, but I now know how revolutionary that thought was.
A deeply spiritual person, Patti observed all the religious rituals she had been taught since birth. She, however, never forced her beliefs on anyone else. She was a staunch Hindu, but never missed the Novena at Mahim Church whenever she was in Bombay. She could hold her own in a discussion on the religious texts, and it was from her that I learn that one was perfectly justified in questioning the texts and seeking answers.
My grandfather was an Atheist, and I sometimes wonder how they lived together so harmoniously despite their fundamental differences. It was because of the deep respect they had for each other; neither ever sought to impose their will on the other.
Patti was the perfect wife and mother - she kept a beautiful house, served delicious meals and almost always had a few guests staying over. But she always made time for herself- Mondays were movie days, and she never missed her date with herself unless unavoidable. Today, we talk about self-care; long before the term was invented, she practiced it.
She cooked, she knitted, she sewed. The neatness of her stitches were legendary, and it is said that when she embroidered something, you couldn't make out which side was the front, and which was the reverse. Despite being the expert, she didn't mind asking her teenage granddaughter to explain a pattern to her when she couldn't quite follow the instructions. When I succeeded in figuring out the stitch, she was full of pride because her student had gone ahead of the master.
She was always impeccably turned out in her handloom sarees paired with white hakoba blouses. By observing how she dressed, I realized that style was far more important than fashion. That if one chooses the traditional, it remains timeless.
From Patti, I inherited the desire to learn and the willingness to fail. I learnt to be independent, and empathetic. Every girl needs a role model, and I am glad I found mine in my own family.
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