Our grandmother sometimes forgets our names. At least she did.

I miss her a lot, and I was thinking today how I miss her voice and even the way she’d call us “bari lačhi čhaj” or “beng čhajori”. Of course, depending how old we were and therefore how useful we could cycle from good girl to bad and back again!

The photo is my grandmother as a small girl. She called herself “Doll” in English, a nickname translated from our language. Known as Papuša or Babka because of her diminutive size, she was the smallest in her family. Her sister, Lemija was tall and broad and solid… whereas Papuša seemed frail and as though she could be easily broken.

Still as an adult she was strong and firm and a force to be reckoned with. In fact, I can still hear her voice telling the other women that “o čhave meljarde o kher” as she absentmindedly waved her hand back at us running around the garden and surrounding dirt road helterskelter.

 

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