It has been a year since my grandmother passed away and today is her first death anniversary. It’s been a year and I still think of calling back home and listening to her voice. Losing someone is never easy but they say that it heals over time. Coming to think of it, I don’t want it to heal. I want it to stay so that I keep her in my memories.
I am an agnostic person by religion. I don’t believe in god. I don’t ask anyone to stop believing in his or her gods just because I don’t have the religious faith. My grandmother was a hardcore religious person, she believed that there is just one god and he is everywhere wearing a different face. She always wanted me to believe in her beliefs. I never believed in god no matter what, but just because she would ask me to, I wouldn’t say ‘no’ twice.
I went to a gurdwara (religious place of worship for Sikhs) today because I had pledged to myself that, just for my grandmother’s sake, I will visit a religious place be it a temple or a gurdwara on her death anniversary. I went there and paid my respects like everyone else around me. I could see everyone praying, wishing, meditating and repeating the words of the raags and the paths (religious songs) that are written in the Guru Granth Sahib (holy book of the Sikhs). Unlike them, I just had the image of my grandmother in my head, of how she was when she was fit and healthy, and I didn’t wish nor did I pray for anything. I simply smiled at the memory of her patting my head while I lay my head on her lap. I was told that at her deathbed, she didn’t die in peace. The disease had eaten up her health and left her body aching with pain. While I was at the gurdwara, I didn’t wish for her to be at peace because I knew that once she had passed away, she was at peace.
After knowing how she had passed away, pale and bruised, I can’t shake the feeling of seeing her like that, but whenever I think of her, I see myself lying on her lap and she patting my head.