It’s
that time of a year again in Anantapur with no heliophilia were the morning
Schools of Summer where the days get hotter and the nights get longer. I
glanced at the wall clock it read 7AM, the soft ring of my mumma's Voice pulled
me away from my bed to go and start my day seeing her beaming face awaiting to
send me to school. With all the rush and freshness the day begun and the more grungy,
stinky and dirtier during the last hour. The Bell Rang and all the little crowd
were jostling towards the gate. In midst of my buddy gang I saw a big
Walking stick head curve came towards and caught my neck - OUCHH!. Yeah My
Grandpa who came to pick me up from school. I say "like a Fisherman “,
"like a fishing rod”, "like catching fish". I squirmed by the
force of walking stick around my neck like fishing the little me from the
crowd."Amma!, Lets go home" said my grandpa. With all the confused
state of mind I reached home.
The days of summer furlough in my grandpas
house were one my favorite childhood memories. Playing in the garden area I
heard Grandpa calling me "Amma, come inside". It was sudden dismay
again to hear "amma”. Back to my sweet cornered room In front of the
mirror I stood. Checked my face and there thought process begun. Do I look like
an old lady? I went near the mirror, saw my frizzy hair. Then little closer to
the mirror, saw my Big Fat nose. and still closer I saw my eyes .Found a
gigantic black outlandish mole at the corner of my left eye and still
closer, I bumped my head against the
mirror-OUCHH!.
Confusion
still persist. With the bewildered and pained expression I stepped away from my
room and rushed to grandpa with aim of knowing why I am called Amma.
"Dada ji why am I called Amma"- I
said. My grandpa with exasperated look told me to sit next to him, my grail of
to understand about the reason behind made me more conscious about myself.
Grandpa took my face into his arms
-"This face resembles me of my mother,
the same facial curve with the same eyes, it is like my mother's renaissance as
my granddaughter, Let me tell you an interesting secret. This black mole at the
corner of your eye is inherited to you at the exact correct spot as my mother, so
you are called as Amma" said grandpa.
Listening Keenly to my grandpa with my eyes
widened and knowing such a mysterious fact behind my mole, It is a WONDER,
letting out a silent gasp and hyperventilated me who once had thought of
pricking the mole out of my eyes is now a wonder in my life and that is the
reason why my grandpa calls me Amma. All these days I didn’t like the mole but
after knowing this it made me more joyous and happy.
Inheritance gives secretive gifts to everyone
in their lives. Some may get eyes, nose, fingers, habits or anything similar to their grandparents. Those inherited features are the memories and gifts given
to us by our grandparent’s lineage. Some may not like their features, some may
feel bad and inferior about being short or long, having fat nose, small eyes,
short hands, long feet, hair, skin, voice, habits and many more. Many of them
plan for surgery in making those features perfect or to hide them. But these
are the memories of our parents of both families.
The
mole is prestigious inherited BLACK WONDER from my great grandma, though I didn’t
see her. The black wonder mole always reminds me of my great grandmother. I
have lost my dearest grandparents to the heavens but i still have the black
wonder mole. I look at it every day and am thankful for having it after all its
not weird and outlandish but an emerging serendipity, wonder and a beauty spot.
- In remembrance of my grandfather Mr
N.K.Hussain (late).
We
Miss You Dadaji...!
-
Ayesha Hussain Nalagadda. #iAish .
