It’s strange yet wonderful being a grandmother. You are suddenly related to this little human who has arrived, who is the child of your child. It’s a difficult thought to get used to and worse getting used to being called Grandma or Gnama. The sound of the word elevates one into the ‘older’ age bracket even tho’ you don’t feel Grandmaish! And then what does she call your mother? The mind boggles at the situation.

Many of us have married early and have had kids early. So becoming grandmas early too was part of the plan evidently. Not part of mine though! But as my Mum once said to me when she was well. You are lucky you were not a Grandma earlier. That’s cause you have no daughters. Daughters tend to marry earlier than boys, she said. Well most of my classmates aren’t grandmothers yet, so is it a good thing or a bad thing?

It’s a good thing for me, because my life is not disrupted in any way as both my married sons live in the West. I carry on with my life of research and writing as an independent journalist and life is as slow paced and quiet as I would like it to be. I work to keep myself in the rat race which forces me to keep myself trim and forces me to get out into this rambunctious world of ours which I would love to retreat from. Forces me to amble over to the beautician once a month to get my hair and nails done. Forces me to get a new wardrobe once a year, as I would be happy wearing the same soft kurtis & jeans forever. It forces me to interact with young minds in college and enjoy reviewing thesis’s and exam papers end of term. The way the world and in particular my city has changed, I would rather happily retreat into my world of books and writing than venture out at all.

So, to go back to grandkids, maybe if they lived here in Bangalore I would not still have my own self contained life. I would give my retired life to my grandkids like my parents did. And my parents played such a huge role in shaping them to be confident well rounded adults today. My Dad worked with them in the garden and took them to Goa where they developed a bond with the old homestead. While my Mum took them to visit her parents in Baroda and enjoy the simple joy of scrap books and train rides, infact the nicest holidays they say they spent were in Baroda and Goa.

If I am downing glasses of that dreadful Karela juice and jogging 2km as many times in the week I can force myself out, is purely selfish. No halo shining in your eyes please! I want to be alive to enjoy the grandkids grow and bask in their successes and milestones. My doctor son Andrew says if I don’t take care of myself I am being selfish and depriving the girls of a grandmum. And considering both grandpas on the other side just upped and died last year inexplicably, being diabetic is a big deal and I can’t afford to slack.

The nicest part of having grandkids is one can see our kids donning the parental role while we can sit back and just indulge them with no responsibility at all in the equation. We play and enjoy them, but the tough part of really looking after them and disciplining them is left to the parents. That is the nicest part of all. No stern tones, no tough looks to behave, no pushing them to perform well. That’s all left behind and we just sit back and enjoy them for what they are.

The Brit one with her ‘did you now’s?’ or ‘naughty, naughty’ We fall over laughing at silly things like ‘Suresh does not know there is a leaf hiding under his bottom’ about the maali she adores and who is working in the garden. All said in a whisper because the word bottom is ‘naughty’! Or ofcourse the now happy job of jumping up and down in a fresh water puddle which Suresh has made on the cobbles while watering the lillies.

Life could not be more simple and uncomplicated and being a grandma is the happiest job of all.