My grandmother (Late Sardarni Gyan Kaur Chadha) did something very unique everyday. She would knead atta (wheat) and then make very small bite sized food drops for sparrows. I grew up watching her do this everyday with extreme love and remember learning how to make those the food drops from her. She usually made a little bird (chiri) out of the dough for me and that was the first time I heard these words - "atte de chiri". Her birds knew her timing and this was perhaps the only time my grandmother spent doing something sitting all by herself.
Now my grandmother and I shared a special relationship. Probably a little more deeper compared to her other grandsons. So deep that she even tied me rakhi for two years because her dead brother came in her dream once to let her know that I was his reincarnation. She stopped tying me the rakhi after two years as she realized that does not made any sense but as a 10-12year old this left an indelible mark on my memory.
Another fun facet of my grandmother was that she took the credit of planting the guava tree in our front yard. Therefore, she always wanted me to give her the softest and guavas bitten by parrots to her. I used to own that tree as a kid and spend hours on it, so her demands were always sort of funny for me. Still, when I look back I wish I had given more of those soft guavas.
As I grew up, the pressures of life took a toll on me. I know it sounds crazy but life takes you away from the gentle touches of your grandparents. My grandmother always wanted to put oil in my hair and joyfully claimed that my mother does not know how to put oil. I probably got it done four or five from her but I remember one instance very clearly. Lying in our front yard on a manji (cot) with sun shining on a winter Sunday, her hands moving slowly in my hair and telling me stories from our Gurus. At that time, I felt she is so slow and I wanted my Mom's style of fast swift action. But now, my heart knows how much I yearn for that gentle selfless touch.