By Sarmistha Neogy
Today, I share something deep and personal—
A story of selfless love and loss.
You’ve been a quiet witness,
But now I must rest my words here,
Lest my memory fade one day.
My Dida—my grandma—
The most beautiful and strong woman I’ve known.
It’s been two years
Since she left for her heavenly abode.
Still, the void remains—
A silence I have yet to fill.
I miss her on most days—
In joy, in sorrow, and in between.
Her presence lingers,
Like the scent of her clean white saree—
Soft and familiar,
Whispering, “I am always there.”
Her final years were not kind.
She drifted in and out
Of worlds we couldn’t understand.
Hallucinatory visions pulled her far—
Each day, a little further away from us.
She was lost in her own world,
Searching for something unknown.
She spoke to her father often—
Convinced he was waiting just beyond the door.
She longed to leave,
She longed to go home.
So, my husband recorded a voice,
Pretending to be her Baba.
We played it to her.
Some might call it deception,
But love is not bound by rules.
She was at peace.
That was all that mattered.
When she no longer recognised herself,
We covered the mirrors.
Her reflection frightened her.
She spoke to phantoms,
Argued with air.
The attendants grew impatient.
“Your Dida tried to hit me,” one said.
But I saw the pain in her eyes—
The fear, the confusion.
I held her wrinkled hand—
A lifeline to the world she once knew.
She asked about the jewels
Her father had once given her.
I promised, “They’re safe with me.”
I knew her final moments were near,
But I prayed for a miracle.
Yes, I wanted her to be free from pain—
But I was selfish.
I wasn’t ready
To stop hearing her ask every day:
Kichu kheyechish?
Have you eaten anything?
Then the time came.
She stopped responding.
Her heart was beating,
But her eyes stayed shut.
I kissed her one last time.
Tears fell from her closed eyes,
And she smiled.
She knew I was there—
That I had kept my word.
That night,
My Dida passed away…
In my mind, I have two visions of her:
One—a strong, selfless woman.
The other—lost in her fading world.
Both are mine.
Both are her.
When emotions are real, they reach our core. Your poem made me cry. Brought back memories which are now two decades old. My Thakuma.
It’s indeed a Nice one. Keep going
Very personal share . Thanks for being so brave and open. Take care Condolences and wish you strength
Such a lovely touching poem..so full of kindness. Your dida would be filled with joy that you chose to remember her so beautifully and share it with the world.