Our birth is a testament to our death – even after knowing this fact, we find it so harsh to accept reality. I have felt a similar kind of pain at the unforeseen loss of my dear grandmother, Nikunjalata Bora, as she breathed her last in Nemcare Hospital on February 28, 2020.
My grandma was born into a humble family in Na-Bheta, Golaghat. Daughter of a school headmaster, she was the second child among four daughters and three sons. She had done her schooling from Betioni High School.
As my grandma would narrate to me later, she had to walk alone a distance of nearly 5 km amidst dark forests and fields to reach her school, back in the post-independence era.
At the age of twenty, she tied the knot with my grandfather, Late Nandeswar Bora and thence, became the beloved, eldest daughter in law of the then Gauburha of Rajabahar Gaon, Dergaon.
Thereafter, they had shifted to Guwahati in 1964 and had since then, watched the city develop from lowlands to high rise buildings. At first, they had settled in the ASTC quarters in Paltanbazar and later made a home of their own in Srimantapur, Bhangagarh, where she became an eminent part of the Srimantapur Namghar.
Today, as I am left behind with just her countless memories and photographs, I am reminded of the many blessings she showered upon us as we left for our exams, the way she jumped with delight on receiving my Medical Entrance Exams’ results, her stories over cups of milk tea and her mutton pulao.
I shall never forget her enlightening speech at my book launch. Most importantly, the eve of 27th February, when I had witnessed her greet and talk with me in the evening while gasp for breath as she was rolled into the ICU and the twinkle in her eyes as I held her hand, moments before the ventilator was plugged on, can never be erased from my heart.
Today, on the occasion of her adya shraddha, I mourn her death and pray for her departed soul.
– Indrani Das Bora
Also Read: A Tribute to Habul Chakrabarty