A gift from God

I've always loved flowers, and would constantly engage in debates with my Grandfather who was partial to the fragrant ones, that looks counted for something too. He was immovable on his stance that inner beauty is far more valuable than just visual appeal, and the same held good for the blossoms in his big, beautiful, lush garden. I will forever remember the days when I hitched up my frock as a little child to help him water the garden. He would pretend to merely support the bucket while I was swelling with pride at being able to heft a heavy pail of water over his beautiful roses and feign annoyance while he scolded me for watering myself with the hose. Stumbling out into the garden, rubbing my sleepy eyes on dewy December mornings in Bangalore, I'd help him pick flowers for his daily Puja. He would make me feel so special - talking to me about the flowers, and teaching me how to pluck them without any damage to the plant or the blossom. We would sit on a stone bench in the late evenings taking in the scent of 'The Lady of the Night' while he told me stories of Kalidasa, Tenali Raman, Birbal and his own childhood exploits and fed me my dinner.

While my favourite has always been the Sampige or Sampangi flower, he was partial to Jasmine. This weekend, I had a very special experience that brought back powerful memories of my grandfather, and this small, unassuming blossom that is so prized in India for both religious and ornamental purposes.

I made a trip to my hometown and had a lovely time meeting friends and family. I was also able to re-establish contact with one of my oldest friends - Muniamma, who worked at my home for as long as I can remember. She is a very special person with great strength of character and a very positive outlook towards life. She has probably had one of the most difficult lives of anyone I have had the opportunity to know, and yet, there have been very few moments without a smile on her face. Always cheerful, she is a caring and protective person who still loves me just as much, even though I have not been able to meet her for over 4 years.

When she saw me, she scolded me for having lost weight and dressing like a gypsy, and asked the spouse why I was being allowed to run around without any jewelry. :) We talked for a while, and she said -"Nee poovellam thalaiyila vekkamaatennu yenakku theriyum..aana naa malli vaangi thanda, konja neramaavadu vecchipiya? Yennala unakku vera yedhuvum kudukka mudiyaadhu." Meaning, "I know you're not that fond of wearing flowers in your hair, but if I buy you a strand of Jasmine, will you keep it on for at least a little while? I don't have anything else I can give you." What could I do, but say yes? She pinned the flowers into my hair herself, and told me how happy she was to see me, and thanked me for remembering her. I was so touched by her gesture that for many hours after I left her company, I could not stop thinking about the smile on her face, and felt elated that I had contributed a little to her happiness. Taking in the powerful, sweet scent, I was taken back to those precious moments I spent with my Grandfather.

P.S. I googled 'Jasmine' and was pleasantly surprised to find that it means "Gift from God". How appropriate that it is a sign of Muniamma's friendship, and Ajja's favourite.