“Please do not Gargle in the Sink”, I read as my grandmother continued to gargle in the sink of our holy temple. Searching for appropriate words to stop her from doing this again, I read “Please Wash Hands Before Eating” and realized, I was no different. Typically, I am not fond of hand-washing and in fact, famous for lack of proper health care procedures. However, for some reason I felt very guilty having touched everyone’s food with unsanitary hands. They say if you really wish, you can control and change your habits.
“Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.” – Leo Tolstoy
When she was in India, I thought I would be different the next time she would see me. No- not freshly diagnosed or isolative, but rather attentive, healthy, and established. This time, I would hug her every morning, massage her body, and listen to her stories. This time, I would do anything to prevent her watery eyes and faint spells. As I watched her eat, faster than usual to prevent my irritation, I questioned my unintentional elder abuse.
I have consciously taken my grandmother for granted- I hold myself guilty every moment of existence. I focus on portraying love to my mother, but I am aware of the hands that truly raised me. I would read stories in the dark, and she would never tell anyone I used a flashlight to complete undone homework. A decrease in my eyesight was worth watching her hold my secret, within her mental treasure, so no one would hurt me. My mother looked away in disgust, but she wiped my vomit every time I ate from the floor. I forgot how to sleep but together, we used our nights to recite prayers I am thankful to have memorized today. She never lifted her hand off my head, risking disruption of the blessings she wanted to bathe me in but today, she longs for my hug. I run away down the stairs, watching her watch me.
She asked the priest to pray for me, losing physical balance here and there, as she was required to stand. Instead of watching the ritual, I stared at her folded hands and closed eyes. I knew she was always muttering to God about me amongst all her children; never did a single prayer pass without my name on her lips. I begged him to leave her with me forever while she begged to leave peacefully any day now.
Salok: In the beginning, He was pervading; in the middle, He is pervading; in the end, He will be pervading. He is the Transcendent Lord. The Saints remember in meditation the all-pervading Lord God. O Nanak, He is the Destroyer of sins, the Lord of the universe. ||1||