My dearest grandmother,
I’m writing this letter to address and put to rest all your concerns once and for all. We have one whole parent between us, so it does look like a Herculean task. But I’m hoping that one day I will manage to successfully convince you that ours is not a generation gone cuckoo.
The other day I overheard you telling mother in hushed tones to give me some dough for a new set of clothes. But let me inform you dear grandmother, the ‘ripped’ jeans you saw me wearing are the latest on the fashion circuit. You’ll be flabbergasted to know that the ‘ripped’, torn, shredded pair of jeans are costlier than the regular, boring, perfect ones. I do not believe in going overboard with the latest fad, but more threadbare denims you sport, the trendier you are!
In your times Granny-jaan, getting a picture clicked was a special affair. You would wear your heaviest silk saree, and grandfather specially took out his trademark necktie. Seeing your old pictures from the golden days, I assume the stoic, deadpan expression was the rage. Embracing and smiling, it seems, was strictly prohibited. But we, on the other hand, are a nation armed with gadgets boasting of ‘front facing cameras’, run by an equally enthusiastic ‘Selfie-lover’ Prime Minister. Also our pictures are not complete without puckering in our cheeks, till we start looking like distant relatives of Mr. Donald Duck. I admit that I’m clueless about this particular fad of pouting while posing, but follow I must, lest I ruin my swanky reputation.
I sincerely empathise with you and your entire generation who had to contend with mothers-in-law who were direct descendants of Hitler. You cooked, washed, cleaned and laid foundation of the ‘Sanskaari Bharatiye Naari’ (The Virtuous Indian Woman). But do not fret when we sit around and leaf through magazines while our dear mothers-in-law cook for us sumptuous meals, help us raise our children and even stick up for us (once in a while) when we have a tussle with our husbands. Believe me, we have made peace with each other and are happy in our respective zones.
Another thing dear grandmother, I admit that my approach of shedding weight and staying fit sounds odd to you. I drive to the gym to run on a stationary machine. Ironical as it sounds, but it does help us lose the stubborn lard we piled on as you fed us love (read butter) soaked dishes all through childhood.
My dear grandmother, I hope I’ve clarified all your doubts just the way you used to, for me as a child. It’s been a long journey from tying make believe saris to donning ripped jeans; getting photographed in your lap to clicking pixelated selfies; exchanging notes on mothers in-laws; and graduating from your little round pet to someone who is conscious of every single calorie! But I’m glad that all through this journey, you have been my teacher, partner in crime, and today- a curious student.
Hi! I'm Seerat Gill (nee Sandhu). I stumbled upon writing just about two years ago, and realised that besides a sinful bar of chocolate, penning down my thoughts brings about instant gratification!
An engineer and an a academician by profession, writing is something I'd never thought I'd do! My writer mother is glad though. I hope I can live up to the 'Lekhak genes'!
What began as scribbling on paper, has now become a part of me. I couldn't be happier to share it with you all.
I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I have enjoyed writing them! Come and join me in my journey!