It is the time of year again when I start missing my Dadi(grandma). I see kids on the street playing gully cricket, shouting, laughing and crying.
My summer vacation was a different story altogether, my village is a few kilometers from where I lived with my parents. Papa will drop us to our village and then all the fun will begin. Spending 60 days with my Dadi.
Her day will start with playing All India Radio, ram charit manas path. That would be my alarm yeps. By the time I am up she would be done with her daily chores and breakfast with tea will be served.
After that, I will be on my own: roaming to the fields with my cousins, taking bath in boarding pumps watering paddy fields to stealing mangoes and lychees from the orchids and sometimes getting cursed by maalis.
It was living a life like a king on my own rules and getting pampered by dadi. She will make the best parathas (my mom agrees) with fired Aloo (potato).
I have not met anyone so active in her 60’s, she was always up for challenges and explorations. I would demand something and It will be presented. We had no electricity, it was an era of lantern/kerosene lamps.
She is no more, passed away many years back. I was 9/10 years old then. I will update this post with more remembrance.