My Patti
My Patti was more like a friend to me than a grandma. My fondest memories are listening to her bedtime stories every night. There was one particular story that I would ask her to repeat over and over again, and each time she would narrate it with the same enthusiasm. It’s the story of Hiranyakashipu and Prahalada (a mythological story of a young boy who deals with his evil father’s atrocities with goodness and non-violence). These bedtime stories from Patti were not just fascinating to listen to as a kid but were also my first lessons in life that helped me understand right vs wrong. Though we lived a rather modest lifestyle growing up, what my cousin and I received from Patti and Thatha (grandpa) was something far more precious: love, care, attention, concern, compassion, and kindness. And delicious food!
Patti was a remarkable cook, and I took full advantage of it. My school was nearby, so I’d walk home for lunch. I loved her pongal (a spicy rice and lentil dish). She’d tell me, “Lambo, the secret to making great pongal is adding a bit of sour yogurt while it’s still cooking.” And her sweets were out of the world. No one makes kozhakattai, poli, rava ladoo, coconut burfi, and peanut burfi like Patti! When she made kozhakattai (sweet momos), the entire home would be filled with the aroma of the poornam (coconut/jaggery filling), and Patti would encourage me and my cousin to taste the poornam before it got locked into the kozhakattai shell!
But there is a lesson here. Though she enjoyed making (and eating) sweets, except for arthritis in her old age, she lived a long and healthy life. In the 60s, she survived a head-on collision with a bus, and was in the hospital for a few weeks. Otherwise, she didn’t really see a hospital. Discipline was her secret. She woke up every day at 4 am, did her morning rituals, cooked lunch for the family, and went to bed by 8. She would eat at the same time daily, and never over-ate. She exemplified the notion, “eat what you like, but limit your portions.”
Patti was one of the most dynamic and talented people I’ve known. She played veena (a sitar-like instrument). Her English was impeccable. She even spoke a bit of French. She tried teaching me Maths when I was young (though I was a difficult student). For a woman growing up in the 30s in a largely male-dominated society to become as educated as she was speaks about her immense determination. Patti was an untapped visionary. I remember sitting with her once showing some photos on my iPad. It was the first time she was seeing an iPad. While we were swiping through the photos, she asked an intriguing question: “Is it possible to pull the photo out of the iPad?” I laughed, but later thought to myself, might Steve Jobs not have wondered the same thing? How many things do we use today that would have seemed ever possible 15 years ago? Printing photos by plucking them out of the iPad…who knows!
In her late 80s and early 90s, Patti wasn’t as mobile due to her arthritis and needed to be looked after almost full-time, but she was fortunate to get painstaking care from her children and their families. I remember for years my uncle spent every night at my grandparents’ place. He didn’t skip a night even when he was not well. My aunts spent time with Patti while juggling multiple commitments—raising a teenager, teaching, singing, and caring for the elderly. While there are good nursing homes, they decided to keep Patti home where she could be around loved ones throughout her life. The decision was easy, but the challenges were real.
My parents looked after Patti for years, even though that meant they couldn’t do the kinds of things that retired people normally do—travelling, visiting ashrams, whatnot. My mom hasn’t visited me in 15 years. She could have hired somebody to help her out at times, but she wouldn’t. She felt her mom deserved nothing less than the genuine care only a daughter could provide. In the Indian tradition, there is a beautiful Sanskrit verse Mata, Pita, Guru, Deivam (Mother, Father, Guru, God) which is to say that mother comes first, even before God. While there are many songs and hymns written about this, my mom brought this verse to life and showed through example what it truly means.
Patti left us last week peacefully with loved ones by her side. We will miss Patti and her loving smile. But a big part of her stays with us in the form of her values.