ADVENTURE WITH GRANDMA

My grandmother, like all grandmothers, is old. Very old. She has white hair and wrinkles. When she laughs, her eyes disappear into the wrinkles. One minute here and the next gone!! Her lap is the softest and I can just curl up and sleep there for ages, soothed with her worn, callused yet soft hands at my brow. She is always dressed in shades of white with a huge dot of red on her forehead. I have never seen her idle. Her hands are always busy. Busy with making the perfect pitha, grinding rice and dal in that terribly heavy stone and mortar. I swear that thing weighs a ton. She says that she got it on her back from her village to Grandpa’s village. Really!!! I am not sure if she is serious or just joking with me. When I was small, I loved sleeping cuddled up with her. She has a lovely fragrance, a fragrance that holds me safe and loved. Who would have thought this gentle old lady was a firebrand during the freedom struggle. This is her story.

Yashoda Devi, the eldest daughter of the Zamindar of Baligaon. Yashoda Devi was just 10 years old when her marriage was fixed with a demure, young, teacher from Cuttuck. He was Baidyanath, who had come to Baligaon as a teacher at the village school. Zamindar Babu was charmed by the young man's wit and intelligence. “He will be perfect for my eldest daughter,” he thought and called him to the main house. “Baidyanath, I would like to meet your parents. Write to them and tell them I will come to Cuttuck in a week. I am thinking of marrying my daughter to you. Do you have any problem with that?”

“Your great grandfather could be very decisive. It was all decided before anyone could even blink. I was married but nothing really changed. I was still in my parents house and your grandfather was now working in Cuttuck. My father wanted me to finish my schooling so we came to Bhubaneshwar. My father had set up the house there and the school was nearby. My second sister and I were to be schooled.”

“Did you go then, Aai?” I asked. I could not imagine her going to school with a school bag, “ and did you wear a uniform, like I do?” I was very curious. My grandmother shook with silent laughter. “Ah no no. No uniform. We used to wear half sarees but I did not go to school. It was a missionary school and they were very strict. I felt very patriotic at refusing to study angrezi but now I wish I had at least studied the language.”

“Anyways, our house in Bhubaneshwar was a big rambling one. It had so many rooms and passages. Half of the house was quite abandoned. My father was always busy but our mother stayed with us. We had servants to help us in the house. Our tutor used to come home to teach us.” She paused to make a pan from her pandan. There was a process in preparing the pan and her fingers moved elegantly as she wiped the pan and cut slivers of areca nut. “It was a time of great chaos and upheaval. Everywhere was a cry for freedom and everyone was affected by it. We had no sense of the urgency but one day it was brought to us quite suddenly and with clarity. That day, Masterji had gone back early. My mother and I were looking over some patterns for embroidery, when we heard knocking. The servants were in the kitchen and in the back rooms so I went to see who it was”.

My grandfather had come in at that time and was listening to her, with a smile on his lips. She looked at him and said, “I had never thought that I would see your grandfather in such conditions. Though we were married, we still had to start living together so it was a shock to see him standing there with another person who was shot in the shoulder. He just nodded at me and asked me to quickly close the door and help him with his friend. I was standing there with my jaw hanging open. My mother shut the door with a snap. She quickly brought medical supplies.There in the closed room my mother and I treated the wounded man.”

She picked up a hand held fan and waved it about. “After first aid, we took him to a room at the very back of the house. It was rarely visited by anyone. There, we fashioned a bed for him. I went to the kitchen and feigned hunger. Maharaj ji grumbled but I was his favourite so he quickly made me some food. I ran back to the room with food and water. Your grandfather’s friend was unconscious but he was very hungry. I have not seen any person wolf down food so fast.”

“Arrey, I had been hungry for the two days. We were travelling at night and had to stay hidden at night. The police were on the look-out for us. There was only one place I knew where we would be safe.”

My Grandma continued with the story,“My mother was always careful. She sent for her trusted servant and asked him to contact my father. Meanwhile, we were not aware of what was happening outside. I just couldn’t concentrate on my studies. Then a few days after the incident, my sister and I were coming back from the market and we were stopped at the checkpost. The police asked our driver all sorts of questions. I kept my ears open and thus I learned that there was a notice against your grandfather and a reward for his capture.”

“What happened then?Was Grandpa captured?” I asked with my heart in my mouth. “No”, said Grandma, “All thanks to me. I came back and told your Grandpa how the police were searching for him. He was troubled as he had been planning to go out that night with important letters to his compatriots.” “Then, what happened?” I asked. The story was at its most suspenseful best. My grandma said, “Nothing happened. I told grandpa that I would help him with the letters but I had no idea how.”

“Then how did you help?”I asked. Grandma looked at me and said, “I will tell you later. Now it is dinner time and I still have to cook. Tell me, what will you eat? Rice, dal and fish fry or Chakuli pitha with dal.”

“Aai, that’s not fair. I want to know what happened”. I said and I am sure even you are interested but Aai… she will not say anything now. Hopefully, after dinner, I can ask her to continue the story. Till then, hold on to patience as I am holding on.                 

So, where were we? Ah, I remember now. Nani had stopped the story right at the moment it reached a fascinating twist—and for what? For dinner! Well, after dinner, we were all sitting out on the terrace. Nana and Nani owned a lovely little house in Puri, where all of us—siblings, uncles, and aunts—would gather during every vacation. That night, just as always, soft mattresses were laid out across the terrace in a neat, geometric pattern. Nana had lit lanterns and candles all around, casting a gentle glow over everything. My siblings and I were already tucked into our beds, snuggling deep within the warm, soft sheets. “Nani, Nani! You simply *must* finish telling us the story. None of us will get a wink of sleep without it. Come on, Nani—come sit right here in the very center, and we’ll all listen to you. Everyone, quiet down—if you want to find out what happens next!”

“Aha! Someone seems very impatient. Alright then. So, where was I? Hmm... Yes—I had told your Nana that I would help him, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out *how* to go about it. I was feeling quite anxious, too. If the police were conducting checks on every single road, how could anyone possibly venture outside—and with such crucial letters in hand, no less?”

Nani gently stroked my head and continued, “The very next morning, I was sitting by the kitchen window, peeling potatoes. My mother was quite strict about us learning every aspect of running a household; it was considered our duty to assist the cook and the other staff with the meal preparations. Anyway, I happened to spot Tikuni—our local fisherwoman—who had come by to sell her catch. She lived in the Nuari Sahi neighborhood and helped her father with the fishing and selling. She was dressed in her traditional fisherwoman’s sari, and a pungent, fishy odor was wafting strongly from her basket. But that very smell—that gave me an idea.” “I ran to meet her and asked if she would help me play a prank on someone.” “Play a prank on someone?” I asked. “But weren't you supposed to be helping Nana? You wanted to tease *him*.” I just couldn't make sense of it. Our parents were listening in as well, and they burst out laughing. Nana said, “Have patience, child. The story isn't over yet.” “Oh, obviously, I couldn't tell her the *real* plan. Anyway, she agreed. I asked her to bring an extra basket of fish, my old sari, and some soot the following night. I promised that once the job was done, I would give her a new sari and a silver nose ring; then, I quickly went off to tell your Nana to be ready with all the letters. He was a whole other headache. ‘What will you do? How will you manage? Who else is going with you?’ Pfft! So many questions, and not a single useful one among them.”

Nana interjected, “Oh, I was worried about you! I know you all too well. You’d jump off a cliff without a second thought.” “Ha! As if *you* know everything,” Nani retorted. “That night, after everyone had finished eating and gone to sleep, I slipped out of bed and tiptoed into the back room. There, your Grandpa was already waiting, ready with his papers. Then, we quietly made our way to the back door, where I had arranged to meet Tikuni. She was there, looking utterly bewildered and anxious. She had with her some baskets of fish and an old, tattered sari. I took the sari, stepped behind the door, and quickly put it on. Tikuni helped me; then, I took some soot from the lantern and smeared it over my face, hands, and feet. I stepped out from behind the door, and…” Nani burst into loud laughter. “Your Grandpa looked at me, and his jaw dropped. I looked completely different. Your Grandpa insisted that he would come along, too. Oh! That man. He was always so stubborn. So, I told him that he had better disguise himself as well.”

“No, you actually said, ‘If the police catch you, I’ll claim I don’t know you at all!’” Grandpa interjected. “Yes, I did say that. I didn’t want him to take the risk—but does he ever listen to a word I say? Anyway, the three of us slipped out of the house. I can’t even tell you—my heart was pounding so hard! I felt as though the police would be able to hear it from a hundred kilometers away.” Grandpa now took up the thread of the story: “We reached the main square. The house we were heading to was located in a lane just off the square, but right across from the square itself, there was a heavy police presence. We paused in the shadows of the Rajmahal Hotel. I told your *Ai* to go back with Tikuni, but your *Ai* never listens to anyone. She simply shook off my hand and calmly walked straight toward the barricade. Tikuni and I hurried after her. A burly policeman was stationed at the barricade. He asked who she was and what she was doing there.” Nana looked at Nani affectionately and said, “I have never seen such a brave girl. Your mother told the policeman—in the authentic dialect of the fishermen—that she was on her way to sell fish to Bankim Babu, who lives just past the main square, near the water tank. The policeman insisted that he had to inspect her basket. I swear, I was trembling. The letters were tucked beneath the fish, inside an oilskin envelope. If they had overturned the basket, it would have been the end of us. Your mother calmly handed over the basket, and that brute tipped it out. All the fish—along with the foul-smelling nets—came tumbling down onto the policeman’s gleaming shoes. Then, your mother began to scream at the top of her lungs, cursing the man and wailing that he had ruined her fish; she demanded to know what she was supposed to sell now, where she would get the money, and how she would afford medicines for her father. Tikuni and I were left completely stunned, but then Tikuni, too, burst into tears and began to scream. The policeman was left utterly shell-shocked. He quickly told your mother to gather up her fish.”

“And the barricade was opened. We all stepped out through the gate. Your *Ai* was still screaming, weeping, and cursing. We ran down the lane alongside her, and there, she collapsed in a fit of laughter. It had all been an act—and the policeman had fallen right into the trap. That was when I realized that your *Ai* was the bravest and cleverest person of all.”

Nani simply crinkled her nose and remarked, “As if you would have succeeded without me!” “But *Ai*, where were the letters? He had overturned your basket, so where were they?” I asked. Everyone else was laughing, but I felt compelled to ask all the crucial questions.

Nani replied, “They were right there. The basket I was carrying was actually two baskets woven together as one. I had tucked the letters away inside the attached basket. That way, the letters were safe—hidden from prying eyes and protected even from the fishbones. We reached our destination, and the letters were handed over safely. Then, we headed back. Thankfully, the policeman had moved on, and the path was clear. We ran all the way back home and arrived before anyone could suspect a thing. The very next day, pamphlets and posters were plastered all across the city, and the police had absolutely no clue how it had happened.”

“Wow! You’re a total rockstar, *Ai*. Did you ever do something like that again? Did Tikuni help you out a second time?” I asked. I could hardly believe that my Nani had been so incredibly brave.

Nani smiled and said, “Yes, but that is a story for another day. Come along now; go to sleep. We have a very busy day ahead of us tomorrow.” Yes, tomorrow was going to be a magnificent day. Tomorrow—on the eve of our Republic Day—my maternal grandparents are to be honored at a special ceremony in Puri for their acts of bravery. Can you even imagine the hardships we endured to secure our freedom? Think of how many people, in so many different ways and with such immense courage, fought that battle for our independence. Now, it is our responsibility to safeguard this nation and lead it forward.