The Last Of You

December 31, 2023 Krupa Shah

“We don't know how we will grieve until we grieve.”

Since this is the last letter of the year, I will keep it short and simple. Just a quick update about a few things and some of the many thoughts that have kept me occupied.

The Last of You (2023):

We are finally expanding Spring On A Winter’s Night to a lifestyle-decor brand. Yay! It has been a truly exciting and exhausting period working on the backend. The e-commerce website will go live soon and I cannot wait to share it with you. Stay tuned!

This year I finally developed a taste for coffee! Apologies to my one true love - Chai. But, I now also love and sometimes crave a well brewed cup of coffee. Coffee makes me happy too!(?)

Nani passed away on a Friday afternoon, early November and it left me heartbroken. Her health had been deteriorating for the past few months and I knew there would come a day when we’d say goodbye, yet I was caught unguarded when it happened.

The day after Nani left, I opened a google document titled - Nani! and I flooded it with my memories of her. I avoid reading those jumbled memories, because they pain me more than they comfort me.

I write about Nani in past tense and I cannot explain how much that bothers me. Nani is...Nani is....until Nani was....

The past few weeks I have missed her often. I miss her so much. I miss her on good days and on bad and I miss her the most when I see another granny with crinkled eyes, plum body and thin greying plait dressed in a cotton saree.

Some days I wake up with an inexplicable urge to simply call her cell phone number. I talk myself out of it everytime. Because knowing that she will not pick up my call breaks my heart further.

The thing about her death that bothers me the most is the fear that it left behind. I fear that soon enough I will not be able to recall her voice, I might never be able to recall the softness of her wrinkled hands, I might never be able to recall the warmth of her hug, a bear hug that would consume you whole, I might never be able recall her smell, a unique concoction that was warm and comforting. I fear I will forget her too soon.

I do not believe in the afterlife or the concept of heaven or hell after death. Though for the past few weeks I found myself wishing for an afterlife. Wishing to believe that maybe somewhere, in some parallel universe, there is a possibility that I’d meet Nani again. That I’d give her another bottle of scented body lotions, her favourite. She would breathe in the scent and smile - wide, unfiltered, and playfully say, ‘thenk yew’, making me smile at her Gujarati accent.

Grieving involves a lot of moments where you simply let the wave of grief pass. And the past few weeks I have had a fair few moments where I simply had to pause, just be, just let myself be.

“We don't know how we will grieve until we grieve.”

To distract myself, I began working obsessively (I work odd hours, long hours and just about everyday). I was never a workaholic, but I discovered the charm of it. I understood why it would appeal to some. It is a form of escapism and for me, it has been a coping mechanism.

Nani always called me by a pet name that was uniquely used only by her. She would address me with her heavy Gujarati dialect - Kruplo Wagh! (Loosely translated to - Krupa, The Tiger) I am a cub at best, but somehow Nani seemed undeterred by my meekness and insisted that I had it in me to growl!

I wish I had it in me… I wish… and I wish for some more. But mostly I wish that I won’t ever forget her.

Until the next wish, some warmth and love to each of you :)

This time around, I’d like to share a song from my childhood which I stumbled upon recently and of course it drowned me in a wave of nostalgia - Nani Teri Morni

Before you go, enjoy some favourites from my gallery!