010000 261D16 552A24 927B51 9A4E37 BE734C D8B068 FFF0D3

Share this photo on Twitter Share this photo on Facebook

Dadi Nani - Farewell

Posted by
Nitin (Mayenne, France) on 21 July 2019 in People & Portrait.

"When an eldery dies, it's a library that goes to ashes."

My nani (maternal grandmother) passed last week. She's the one on the left in the above picture. It came partly as a shock, and partly expected. Although she was not seriously ill, I've seen her not being in her happiest states ever since my grandfather, my nanaji, passed away 3 years ago. What else would you do when you have spent 55 years of your life with someone and suddenly they have left you? It's almost impossible to fill their gap.

Here's what I wrote about on my grandfather's death: https://nitin.aminus3.com/image/2016-09-11.html

My dadi, sitting on the right, she passed away last year, on 2nd April 2018. She passed away very peacefully in her sleep at the age of 84. I believe she lived a full life - except for the passing away of my grandfather in 199. Although she lived with my parents for the last 5-6 years, it's hard to imagine that she lived for 20 years without my grandfather.. In a way it shows her mental strength.

I've countless memories of my childhood with my grandparents. They seem so vivid. Nana-Nani (maternal grandparents) and Dada-Dadi (paternal grandparents). Most of my memories with my Dada-Dadi is in their home ('dadi-ghar' or grandma's house - not sure why we never called it 'dada-ghar') with my favourite younger cousin Nishant. My dadi called him 'daddu' although his pet name was 'Manchi'. My own pet name is/was Mammu, which endearingly, innocently came from my sister who is 16 months older than me, and she mumbled these words 'mmmm' when i was born and my parents just ended up nicknaming me Mammu. My sister's nickname is/was 'Nilu' - meaning blue eyes - cos she was born she had special grey/blue eyes - such a rarity in our family.

Manchi and I have shared a great bond - but we were much closer when we were younger. I was in a boarding school and usually came to my hometown twice a year, for a month and a half each, and most of my time was spent with Manchi - flying kites on the rooftop on those cloudy days - I was bad at kites but Manchi was amazing - playing cricket in the corridors, playing table tennis in the table that my dad and his brothers had got made using their pocket money in their college days. Summer or winter - Manchi and I spent a lot of time together during our holidays. He had a special love and respect for me and I had so for him too. Since I had the hobby of collecting stamps, coins, stickers, etc - Manchi would often collect these for me while I was gone and give them to me everytime he would see me when I came to Raipur for the vacations.

Often, we underestimate the effect and the impact that our grandparents have on us.

My dadaji (paternal grandfather) was a distinguished doctor of his times - a true gentleman, non-smoker, non-drinker, healthy in most ways. And yet he died of liver cancer at the age of 69. I learnt so much from him, and a big part of personal childhood development came from him. He would wake me up early (it helped that I was already an early riser), to take me for a walk, or dictate me names of medicines at his clinic.

He was the one who taught me, "Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." Not sure if this works on women too. My sister was anyways always a late riser - waking her up would be an impossible morning task.


I've also noticed that this photoblog has become something of an obituary column of sorts, which I visit and post only when someone passes away. But atleast it gives me a chance to pay my tributes to my dear ones, to record my feelings for them and how much I would miss them.