My heart is covered

in his nanou's shorts!

My heart is covered! Agastya my grandson flew away two hours ago after two joyful months with us. You may wonder what the expression 'my heart is covered' means and where it originates. Let me elucidate. This expression is part of my grandson's delightful lexicon that never ceases to amuse and amaze me and that I gleefully appropriate. He used it first about a week or so ago when he fell ill and nauseous. My heart is covered with the rice is what he stated and believe you me, we all understood what he meant. The ensuing days were terrible as the poor boy went through the nightmare of the famed Delhi belly! 

Today my heart is covered not with rice or pasta, but with an indescribable medley of feelings ranging from melancholy to acceptance laced with a tinge of fear as well as forbearance and even an imbue of  unease. The fear of course is transient but will choke the covered heart till all the planes land safely till their final destination. In the present scenario this means 6 unending days and nights as they break journey in Paris.

This bundle of joy has for the past 70 days and nights ruled my heart and my life and I have complied unabashedly. He slept with us - Nanou and I - as he has always done for the past 5 years irrespective of all the canons of child rearing and the initial barely expressed resentment of his parents were soon set aside as he was the one who decided on the matter. 

My heart is covered by the emptiness that greeted me this morning when in my half sleep, I extended my hand in search of my little foot. You see even the hands and feet are divided: one set being mine and the other his nanou's. I cannot tell you how empty the world felt for that instant before the heart was assuaged by reason and the emptiness translated into the realisation that he was gone! It had been just a few hours but they felt like eternity.

As I crept down the stairs to my burrow, the silence was palpable and overpowering, even for one who revels in solitude. My eyes refused to stray on the tiny objects left behind - a bright pair of crocs,   some cars his Mom refused to put in the suitcase and a tshirt hung on the banister presumably for drying and presumably conveniently forgotten for want of space again. I know that as the day enfolds there will be innumerable reminders of the little fellow's stay at home. My heart is covered by this deafening silence that will become louder and louder as I miss my agyTalk! 

Yesterday was a strange day. Agastya, his grandad and I were protagonists of an unwritten play, or should I say a play that enfolded from the heart to alleviate the pain of each of the three characters. Even though I had been telling Agastya about his leaving late night on Saturday and making plans for the rest of the day, he woke up in a quaint mood and stated he wanted to go to to the airport NOW and wait for the plane. Was this his way of telling us that he was OK leaving and actually quite happy about it. Then how do you explain the fact that he spent most of his day lolling on our bed and treating us to unexpected hugs and kisses, making sure that each of his grandparents had the same amount? To his performance was our counterpoint. Though our hearts and guts wanted to tell him how much we would miss him and how much we would have wanted him to stay and how lonely everything would be without him, we spent the day talking of his trip, of the treats that awaited him when he stopped over to meet his other set of grandparents, and then the delight of being reunited with his Dad and all the things he would be getting back to and of course his new school. While he filled the day with caring gestures we choked it with words, comforting more ourselves than him. I think all that needed to be said was what was left unvoiced.

The love between a child and his grandparent is unique and blessed. Sadly I never met my paternal grandparents and my maternal grandmother died when was a little older than Agy, hence the illogical disquiet. In those times there were no phones let alone Internet and Skype. There were letters that came in the diplomatic bag once a week and the home leave that happened once in 3 years when papa changed postings. So do your maths and you will see that I must have spent not more than a few months with my Nani, but she filled those with so much love and laughter that a sense of warmth and loving chokes me each time I think of her. I just hope that I can do the same for my darling boy. 

Once again we will have to learn to live without that bundle of joy zipping through the house and through our hearts and fill the enormous void as best we can. I guess I will get back to looking after my other boy - the husband - who was a tad neglected when Agy was here. You see Agy takes all the place. I will cook Ranjan healthy vegan meals. Now that should take some time with hunting for recipes, shopping and then the actual cooking. Maybe I shall stop stocking up and buy for the day. Then of course there are my Pilates classes, and my swimming and hold on I am planning to buy a bicycle today and start cycling around the park of the colony. The last time I cycled was when I was 14! Then I have promised to set 2 hours everyday to get on with my book about project why and then the usual work should take some more time. I guess books will come to the rescue. 

But I know that all this and more can never fill all the void in my heart. That will only happen when he walks into my room a year from now and gives me a hug. You cannot hug on Skype!