By Sruthi Nambiar
My great-grandmother's house is a peculiar marvel. More than 80 years old, it was a gift from her father on her wedding day. A physical representation of his love, it was a way for him to be sure that she always had a place to stay. To me, it is one of the grandest displays of love I have ever witnessed.
The biggest peculiarity of the house is that it stands as long as she is alive. It is linked to her lifeline. When she passes, it shall crumble away. That shall be strange. She and the house are a cornerstone of my family's life. My great-grandmother's children, grandchildren and great grandchildren were born under its roof. A part of its essence has attached itself to each one of us. Every trip back to my hometown included a stop at the house. After spending time with my great grandmother, we would visit the family temple. The house and its lady have always symbolized stability to me.
My great-grandmother will pass soon. She said as much. She is tired and has lived long enough. She wants to rest. She has spent close to a hundred years living. During those years, she buried her parents, siblings and husband. I do not think she wants to bury her children. I believe that she held on for the last few years so that her descendants had this place to return to.
Her body, which, previously, has never given her age away, allows it to peak through now. I am unable to stand it. It is proof that she is mortal like everyone else. I do not want her to be mortal. But what I want does not matter.
When she passes, I shall miss this house and the feeling of home it gave me. I will miss her the most.
By Sruthi Nambiar
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