My grandma was a good story teller. She used to tell stories everyday when I was little. When she ran out of stories she began to read stories from children’s magazine .I used to lie on her lap and listen to all so carefully. I think I don’t even concentrate on my classroom lectures that well. But with grandma my 100% attention was there. I loved Ramayana story so it was usual that everyday she began to tell the story from the beginning. I wanted to hear each and every detail, if she missed any I will make a big fuss about it and make her tell it again. I was a persistent little rascal back then
Another category of granny stories was the real – life stories she told. Some are too personnel in the sense that the characters are still living and I don’t want to intrude into their privacy. But some others I can share. So here is one…….
When my grandma was little that is about 1930s that is ,when our land was still under kingship and colonialism. She really adored a foreign lady named Missy. She was from Britain and she lived just half a kilometer from her house. She told me with wonder about the Persian cat that Missy owned.
Missy married a foreigner here. He came to tutor the Prince. They both worked at the palace, Missy was in charge of the tapestry decorations & carpets (palace was about 3 km away from our house) .They met and fell in love. But tragically her husband fell in the bathroom and died. Missy stayed here even after her husband’s death as a widow. She used to play a piano on some evenings. She was a very generous lady. My grandma & her little brother when they were small kids, used to visit her at Christmas time. She gave them cakes & would ask them to choose a gift that was hanging on the Christmas tree. The gifts were usually small toys and chocolates from England. But after 1947, that is the time of India’s independence Missy left Kerala. She went back to her homeland. My grandma really grew fond of the foreigners and she missed them when they left.
I know it is not a story, but more of like a chapter from my grandma’s childhood. She used to tell this story when I asked her about the big beautiful bungalow a little away from our house. That is the bungalow where once lived a kind lady called Missy. About 60 years have passed from the day Missy left, now that bungalow is a laboratory & residence of a local doctor.
