Grandma died today.
My paternal Grandma.
She was 85. Or 86.
She would have turned a year older tomorrow, if one were to consult the Hindu calendar.
They say she was bedridden for a month, slowly losing her faculties. Incapable of speech, unable to eat, barely able to move by herself.
The tears did not flow at first, not when Mom broke the news to me this evening. I shed them when Dad came to the phone later. My mother has died, he said simply.
My last memory of her is at the time of my cousin’s engagement ceremony in...
