New Delhi: For the first time in years, I granted myself a true break – a gap year of sorts – to prioritise my emotional well-being and address what felt like years of inner neglect. This decision, though initially challenging as I adjusted to a life less defined by constant productivity and societal pressures, unexpectedly opened a profound chapter of connection with my paternal grandparents.
This period of pause also brought a poignant reflection on my maternal grandmother, who passed away when I was a teenager. Discovering echoes of her in my love for literature and writing, and even in aspects of my personality, has been bittersweet. I often find myself wishing I could share with her how literature became my escape in high school and how my passion for writing has shaped who I am today, including my current journey of writing a book and my aspirations to make a positive impact through my words.
This yearning sparked a realisation of how little I knew about my surviving grandparents, igniting a personal mission to learn their stories, shower them with love, and provide whatever care they might need.
Spending the past few months immersed in their lives has been deeply rewarding. I’ve developed a particularly strong connection with my grandma, a bond that feels uniquely profound, mirroring my lifelong tendency to feel closer and more understood by the female figures in my life.
Her life is a testament to unwavering love and care for her three children and six grandchildren. Her affection is a constant presence, manifesting in comforting baked goods, delicious paranthas, and an innate desire to ensure everyone around her is well cared for.
My grandma’s nurturing spirit is boundless. She would never let anyone go hungry, tirelessly cooking at any hour. She remembers birthdays with beautiful flowers, anticipates visits with favourite snacks, and generously shares her skills, patiently teaching me cherished recipes like her incredible vanilla cake and her delicious poha.
Her love is shown through selfless giving. Last year, learning to make besan cheela from her felt like a personal milestone, igniting a strong desire to absorb all her culinary wisdom. The genuine pride she takes in even my smallest efforts, like making chai, is incredibly heartwarming.
Her kindness is so profound that she would never intentionally hurt anyone’s feelings, even if she didn’t personally enjoy something they made. Her name is Veena Sharma, and her actions truly embody love. Though a stroke has affected my grandma’s speech, her actions and the few words she can still articulate speak volumes of her enduring affection.
As she recovers, her caregiving instincts have re-emerged. She continues to ensure everyone is fed, makes lemonade for all, cooks for visitors, and extends her care to our pregnant house help and my dad’s employee, insisting they rest and stay hydrated. She still looks after me, sometimes helping me with small tasks and always offering comforting food and drinks, evoking a nostalgic return to my childhood visits to her home. I’ve naturally stepped into the role of her primary caregiver, also looking after my partially paralysed dog and myself in recent months.
Last year also fostered significant healing and connection within my extended family. A visit from my dad’s sister and her daughters brought a sense of belonging I had long desired, creating cherished memories and a feeling of finally being embraced for who I am, not just because we’re bound by blood.
After my grandma’s stroke, I immediately took on the role of primary caregiver for my grandparents because I didn’t trust anyone else to care for them the way I could. I felt that no one could provide them with the emotional support, patience, and understanding they needed like I could. This conviction led me to partially move into their house to provide constant care, but eventually, I reached a point of burnout and had to create some distance.
To keep my aunt and her daughters informed, I set up a group chat to share updates about my grandparents. Regular communication with them helped me feel closer to them, and their recognition of how much I care for my grandparents made me feel seen and heard.
Although I received praise from extended family, my motivation was always to ensure my grandma was okay and that my grandpa took care of his health. Unexpectedly, this experience brought me closer to my aunt and cousins, and for the first time, I felt like I had a real support system within my biological family. This realisation was deeply emotional because, as a child, I had always longed for that kind of connection.
These past months have been a masterclass in multitasking and heightened awareness. I’ve become quicker on my feet and more attuned to the subtle needs of those around me. This year, despite also navigating my health challenges with allergies, has been a period of unexpected creative blossoming.
I’ve been working as a freelance content strategist, managing my mom’s fashion brand’s social media, gaining hands-on experience at events, modelling, exploring food content creation, finalising and printing my poetry book, and launching my own small business, all while expanding my professional portfolio.
However, just as a sense of stability began to settle, my dad also suffered a recent stroke, bringing new challenges. Adjusting to his changed presence and his recovery has been difficult. These ongoing obstacles have been significant learning experiences, offering a stark look at the realities of adulthood.
Despite potential criticism for taking a year off, it has proven to be the most beneficial decision for my personal and familial well-being. While a return to the corporate world remains an option, my current focus is on nurturing my small business and freelance career, allowing me to prioritise my mental and physical health while continuing to work towards publishing my book and sharing more of my journey here.
