Autobiography

My Autobiography – My Aunty

My aunt (aunty, as we used to call her), was the youngest sister of my father. As destiny would have it, she died very young (when she was 22-23 years old). I have quite a few fond memories of her, which can never fade away from my memory.

I should have been a very small kid back then, maybe I was in 1st or 2nd standard and I suddenly suffered from high fever. I remember writing an exam in the morning and by the afternoon, I was finding it difficult even to stand. I was taken to the doctor’s place and I remember the doctor giving me an injection.

Shortly afterwards, I was left in my grandmothers house (which was nearby) to rest. I remember lying down on my aunty’s lap and dozing away. I should have been asleep for around 2-3 hours. I was shocked when I woke up – She was still sitting there, not wanting to disturb my sleep! I mean, any elder would have kept a pillow below my head and gone away. She didn’t!

My aunty was the most creative person I have ever known. She used to get involved in all kinds of arts and crafts activities. I have seen her make flowers, bake cakes, prepare meticulously for our birthday parties, etc. One of her cakes got the third prize in some event and I thought, ‘what’s the big deal’? But when I went there, I was surprised to find hundreds of cakes and her cake (a swimming pool) was the third among so many!

It was because of her interest that all other members of the family also got involved in making creative stuff. For example, we never bought any birthday cake. Cakes were always baked at home (back then). Most of the decorative items (for gifts or for hanging) were hand-made.

Even at that young age, I was very impressed with an artificial rose she made. I went and asked her to teach me how to make it. She said my hands were very little and she will teach me after they became bigger 🙂

One small kid was born in the family and everyone were looking for a name. I gave the name (according to their requirements), but they eventually gave him some other name. I was very angry and threw a tantrum. I will not stop crying until my aunty came and gave me ten rupees as a prize! Back then, I was a sucker for prizes. Sigh!

People do speak something bad about others, but I have never come across anyone speaking anything bad about my aunty. Even the large extended family outside. I don’t remember her raising her voice to ‘discipline’ us kids. She used to say things coolly, in an amusing way and we used to listen. Magic?

I believe that God takes away the best of his people and places them in a world that deserves them. That’s the only explanation I can give for the sudden brain disease she suffered, in contrast with her healthy, energetic and enthusiastic living.

I have thought about this before: Even if we live for a short time, we should live like her. What’s the point of living for 100 years with a ‘me-too-survived-along-with-a-billion-others’ tag?

Destination Infinity

PS: As you might have noticed, I am writing more these days. Please feel free to read and comment only on posts that you find interesting.

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