Toddlers Miss their Loving Granny
Mrs. Upasana Yakhmi cared for children all her life. She was fondly called Dadi (grandma) in our residential complex, because she was passionate in her love for children, particularly toddlers and kids.
Toddlers usually have fun learning to play, speak, behave, and move while making actions like balancing, running and jumping, etc. more so in the company of other toddlers. During the lockdown period, however, toddlers interacted mostly with parents, or nannies, both decades older. Consequently, after the lifting of the lockdown, we had toddlers who had learned to stand and walk but had not had enough of the essential ingredients of social interaction — mixing and playing with other toddlers, chasing them, falling over, etc., needed for a balanced growth.
Even post-pandemic, it is the toddlers below two years of age who have been left craving for the attention of parents, who keep glued to the small screen, or of the maid who brings the toddler in a garden for walking around in a pram/stroller but is busy on her smartphone with her social-media friends, leaving the pram-borne kid to look at every passing adult or child seeking attention, and to explore the facial features of any passers-by, if they show interest.
In July 2020, just after the lifting of the strict lockdown, my son and his wife shifted our joint family to a larger flat in Mumbai in a residential complex of tower buildings, in order to provide the much-needed additional space to our growing grandchildren. The complex has a club house, gymnasium, walking track, swimming pool and children’s park, etc. located on a lower floor.
Being in our 70s, I and my wife, Upasana (nickname Guddi), kept to the flat initially to avoid contact with people, even though we wore masks. Restrictions eased in mid-2021, allowing us to go for evening walks, wearing masks, on the community floor. During our evening walks, we would come across several kids being taken around in prams by their parents or maids; and toddlers learning to walk under supervision.
Being very fond of children all her life, Guddi would bend towards every approaching kid in a pram, say a few sweet things, but got hardly any positive response from them, initially. On the contrary, most tiny tots showed a sense of bewilderment, or looked quizzically at Guddi’s mask-covered face. But it was not for Guddi to give up! She continued to try to communicate with kids, regularly. In a matter of days, a few kids and toddlers could identify her, perhaps from the Punjabi suits she wore, and also maybe from her unique style of saying sweet nothings to them.
The number of pram-riding kids who responded to Guddi kept rising, and the attending maids or parents would often say “look, who is coming, Dadi (Hindi for grandma)!”, which was enough to alert the kids in prams, who would respond to Dadi’s gestures by shaking of their limbs vigorously, or make some gargling sounds in between smiles and giggles. Some of them would crane their necks sideways while sitting in their prams, not to miss their pet Dadi, as we both walked away.
Restrictions on wearing masks were further relaxed in 2022, allowing Guddi to show her un-masked face to a kid for a few seconds. That did the trick. Most kids in prams now looked keenly at her, anticipating a few loving words and gesticulations from Dadi. Toddlers would walk towards us, as we sat on a bench at our favourite pool-side corner. With time, kids and toddlers started gesturing ‘bye’ signal with their palms, or a flying kiss, or attempting what is called a ‘high five’. Out of courtesy, the care-taker maids or moms started telling the kids to say ‘Hello’ or ‘bye’ to me, too.
Guddi invariably communicated with children of all age-groups in the complex, which also included groups of giggling girls of age 5–10 years. Beginning with the festive season in August this year, Dadi started moving on her walking rounds carrying a sling bag, loaded with goodies for her clientele. Stopping by each child to talk, she would also give each one a Cadbury chocolate, be it a 5-Star or Dairy-Milk. A kid having his/her birthday would also receive a toy from Dadi. Spotting Dadi, some girls in the age group 4–5 years would come running to recommend to Dadi to give a chocolate also to one of them, who had missed it.
Alas, the rendezvous of kids of the complex ended suddenly when Guddi passed away on October 8, owing to a cardiac arrest. As I, my family and relatives got busy with arrangements for Guddi’s funeral ceremony, we learnt later that the kids wore a forlorn look, as if asking ‘where is Dadi?’
All her life, Guddi had been fond of children, and treated them with care and affection.
In 1971, her 3-years old nephew fell down from a rooftop. He recalls even today how Guddi spent days nursing him at home.
At Guddi’s instance, I ran a children’s library, KABULI, at our residence during 1980–82, in order that the member children coming to exchange books every Sunday would also become friendly with our own two children. Guddi would welcome each member child and would offer them something to eat, as they waited their turn to run through the collection of books.
My daughter Geetika got diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes (T1D) during her stay at the Girls’ Hostel at her engineering college, due to which Guddi was permitted by the warden to stay with Geetika in her room for extended periods of time, during 1994–97. Guddi developed very pleasant interactions with many hostel-mate girls, during that period. Several of them have been calling up Geetika to express shock at the sudden demise of Guddi, recalling their pleasant memories of over 25 years ago, with Guddi.
The formal Hindu condolence ceremony, the ‘Chautha’, of Guddi was held on October 11, 2022. For the kids of our complex, we kept chocolates in a tray at a convenient location by the poolside, with a note: “Hello kids, Dadi left these for you”, to lure each one of them to pick up a chocolate, and extend a smile in the memory of their favorite Dadi.
Seeing me on my evening walk these days, some toddlers still take a few steps towards me, but not finding Dadi, they retreat, nonetheless.
