I need to tell you something

Life hasn’t been kind to me recently. But who is life kind to anyway?

Everyone is fighting some battle unknown to everyone else.

So, it’s okay if you only focus on yours.

Hi folks, it’s been a while.

I have around 10 incomplete drafts lying somewhere in my Notion (yes, I still use it), but I still started this new one.

I guess I am in a sort of motivational phase right now.

I have been reading. I have been studying. I have uninstalled Instagram. Yep, it’s that phase. So, before my downward spiral starts, I want to do something, like writing this piece.

If I ask you, “Who is the coolest person you know?”, what would you say?

For everyone, cool means something different. Everyone has a certain persona in their mind that they consider cool. I believe we are always trying to become that cool persona too.

My answer to this might be different from yours. Maybe a bit too different.

The coolest person I ever knew was my dadi (my grandmother).

She was, is, and will remain the strongest and most inspirational person I know. And I am not saying this just because it is my opinion. This is an objective decision made by me.

I lost my grandmother on 8th June. She was sick, and we did everything we could to give her the best treatment and comfort. It was hard to watch her go through that phase, but finally, she found peace.

Here’s what you need to know about her.

My grandfather died at a young age, making my grandmother a single mother around the age of 35, with three children. She was young, couldn’t read or write, and to be honest, had no idea what was going on.

She spent most of her life in a small village in Uttarakhand at a time when there was no connectivity. She came to Delhi and then Sonipat with my grandfather, who used to work in a bank. Everything was very new to her.

I still remember the stories she used to tell us about that time.

Somehow, she got a job at the same bank in place of my grandfather. And that young woman, who couldn’t even read or tell apart 1 from 2, started working there.

She once told me, “On my first day, I was told to bring a file from cabinet number 3, but I didn’t know what 3 was.”

Can you imagine yourself in that situation?

She went on to work in that bank for the next 25 years and retired at the age of 60. By the time she retired, she obviously knew everything about how banks work. She could read numbers, but never learnt to write. I think it was not a priority for her, given that she had three kids to raise.

Today, our family is in a much better place. Everyone in my family is educated and doing well, all because of just one person: my dadi, who didn’t know that giving up was an option.

I am not writing this because I am sad. I am writing this because I want to share her story.

I have experienced loss before.

Life goes on.

But in the famous words of Steve Rogers:

“Some people move on. But not us.”