She was a proper lady. She talked like one behaved like one and she was the one. Her kindness emitted from her every time my sibling and I go and visit her. When we were kids she used to come and visit us almost every weekend. And every weekend we waited at our doorstep to great her and her unending love for us.
She behaved like a lady and constantly reminded that as I grew up. I who is born to do, exactly the opposite of what I am told to, half heartedly listened and half heartedly put them in to action.
She dressed like a lady. Both me and my sibling agrees with that. And all my cousins young and old nod their heads in agreement. With proper “osari” (Kandyan Saree), pebble necklace we were so proud to walk with her and tell everyone she is ours.
Her food. Her cooking is frankly out of this world. No one can ever cook like she does. I am pretty sure she has a magic potion which she puts into that food. When we were young we wait for the holidays just to go and visit her and of cause indulge ourselves in her food. I am a potato hater. But if she cooked it, man I am in heaven.
She loved music. She didn’t have a CD or record collection but she had fond memories from her childhood about “paduru party” they have had at her place. She used to tell us. When she heard that we could choose an instrument to play in my music class she insisted that I take the violin lessons. I actually did but it was really hard and my finger tips burnt. So I GAVE UP then and promised myself that I will learn some day in future. And that some day is still far ahead. I regret now. I should have given more and I SHOULD HAVE LEARN HOW TO PLAY THE VIOLIN. But now…
Today, I see her with eyes closed rest in peace. Her face filled with kindness and serene. My achchi lived for 94 years.