My Grandmother
I saw this first in my grandmother.
My grandmother was an amazing cook. But more than that, she was someone who always gave.
Even if all she had to offer was water, she would add a pinch of lime, sugar, and salt and make sure you received something with care. She would always feed you a little more. Always loving. Always caring.
I went with her on countless temple visits. On the way down, she would give every alms seeker a little of what she had. Then she would feed me a crispy dosa at her favourite restaurant. I loved watching her enjoy dosa too. I learned the art of joy in simple things and in food from her.
There was a time when I was away from her for the longest stretch. This was back when landlines were the only way to communicate. I told her I missed her and her sambar and idli.
Where was I?
In Chennai. An ocean of sambar and floating idlis.
Yet I craved hers. Because it was made by my grandmother, who added love to everything.
So much of what I learnt from her happened subconsciously, simply by being around her. In the way she cared for me and scolded me when I was wrong. In the way her warm, thick, veiny hands would rest on my head and turn into a cooling massage. In the way she would giggle and break into laughter when we asked her to place her hands on my grandfather’s shoulder for a picture. In the way she would simply smile when I dropped her back home.
She was teaching me something all along.
I cannot pinpoint just one thing. But in so many ways, she shaped the softer side inside me.
From my grandmother, I learnt that love gives from whatever it has.
My Mother
I saw that same depth in a different form in my mother.
My mother is everything I am today.
I wrote a letter for my mother for her 70th birthday, so I will not rewrite it here.
But the crux of it is this.
She is like the peppercorn in a dish. Not loud. Not announcing. Not asking for applause. But changing the flavour of everything.
She has helped me in every exam, both academic and in life. When life has tested me, her one word, one phrase, one question has had the power to heal and transform me.
We fight a lot, or rather, I fight with her. I fight for her wellbeing, her health, and whatever my ego says is right, all with my noisy, wild son energy. She accepts everything with grace, only to let me reflect, iterate, and understand her better.
She is one person I will never fully understand. But I’m learning every day - to be a better son, and human for her.
If my grandmother was an ocean of compassion and giving, my mother is the universe.
And now, with her healing and spiritual work, she is still teaching me.
From my mother, I learnt that real strength does not always look like force. Sometimes it looks like stillness, silence and gratitude.
My Sister
Then there is my sister, who opened a completely different door in me.
My sister is the single biggest reason I got into music.
As she was learning music, my hands were struggling to keep rhythm on the tabla. As she danced, I watched her in wonder and amazement at the tender and divine expressions through which she performed. I would lose track of time.
She was my co-composer in my rise to becoming a sound nerd. Every idea I had, she would croon into the mic and spend hours adding expression to my music, just like her expressions used to grace her performances.
She is younger than me, yes, but stronger too.
Like the women in my life, she can withstand pain in a way that leaves me in awe. I saw this most deeply when she was giving birth to her child. In the midst of that pain, she was singing. That image has stayed with me. It told me something about strength that no speech ever could.
She is emotionally stronger than me too, I think. There have been moments when I break down faster than she does, and she is able to move through things with a clarity and direction best known to her.
And once she commits to something, she can move mountains.
Many of these qualities became even clearer to me after she got married. A different side of her shone. Maybe I was too critical before. Maybe I was too restricting with what was best known to me then. So some of the lessons I learnt from her were not only from who she was, but also from my lack of understanding of her for most of her life.
When I was in grade 7, I missed her so much that when she did not get admission to the same school I studied in, I did something I had never done before. One day during recess, I wrote a letter to the principal. I made it grammatically correct with my Wren and Martin book and dared to walk into the principal’s office.
The letter was a request to give my sister admission to the school.
Within seconds of finishing it, she took her green pen and wrote 1C.
And there, just like that, I had manifested something for my sister.
Times have changed.
There are only a few things we agree on now, and that is a good thing. It means we have both grown into ourselves. But one thing we still deeply share is the love of creating for the sake of it and losing track of time.
From my sister, I learnt that strength can be artistic, emotional, and quietly immovable.
My Wife
Then life brought me Ashwini, and with her came a different kind of teaching.
Ashwini taught me patience, trust, and understanding.
She also taught me financial discipline, which I did not have at all.
She used to, and still does, sit through all my narrations, ideas, life perspectives, and long conversations. Patiently. With deep, caring, understanding eyes.
There is something sacred about being heard without interruption and without judgment. She has done that for me over and over again.
A lot of my thoughts have had the courage to become clearer because she has been willing to sit with them.
From Ashwini, I learnt that love is not only warmth. It is steadiness. It is someone staying long enough for you to hear yourself better.
Aathira
And then came Aathira, who changed me from the inside out.
My daughter is 13 now.
She has changed my life inside out.
Every time I push words out of my mouth, I become aware of who I am and what choices I am making, not just with my words but with my actions too.
She has single-handedly made me a calmer and more patient person over time, and still is.
She may be my life’s biggest and most successful experiment, living and breathing, full of love, words, compassion, kindness, creativity, and music.
She unlocks the simplest ideas that were lying deep down inside me, under layers I did not know were there.
When she asks me a question, I am always in wonder. I cannot wait to answer her, and I cannot wait for her to ask me more.
But as she is asking, I am the one learning.
About life. About choices. About who I am becoming in front of her.
From Aathira, I keep learning that to guide another life, I must keep refining my own.
What They Have Taught Me
Through it all, my greatest spiritual teachers have been the women in my life.
My grandmother taught me how love gives from whatever it has.
My mother taught me how presence transforms everything around it.
My sister taught me that strength can sing through pain and still remain clear.
Ashwini taught me that love listens and stays.
Aathira teaches me every day that to guide another life, I must keep refining my own.
I believe firmly that when one truly learns to respect women, their opinion, their voice, their anger as much as their love, their wisdom as much as their “what works for you” phrase, and their command as much as their request, you will have a home full of abundance and a wealth of love, care, and respect.
And when that comes into unison, or even begins to move closer to what women truly deserve, the whole energy shifts.
I am a living example of witnessing and experiencing the blessing that each of these amazing women brings into my life.