Of Memories and Nostalgia: The Call of the Cauliflower, Musings About Grandmother, India
It was a lazy, rainy morning in New Delhi. The kind of day when all you want to do is sit by the window and breathe in the fresh air. I was in my second year, pursuing my BA in advertising at Kamala Nehru College. That day, my classes were scheduled to begin late in the afternoon, so I planned to leave for college after lunch.
My maternal grandma (Nani) was visiting us for the day, and my instinct was to bunk college and spend the day with her, but with exams approaching, I couldn’t miss classes.
Though many grandkids are close to their grandparents, my bond with my Nani was special beyond words. She was my happy place, my sense of joy, that warm feeling of home we never want to miss. She gave me the warmest hugs and told me stories of her yesteryears, tales from the Ramayana, and many other sweet memories.
I remember instinctively wanting to spend as much time with her as possible, because I always feared that one day she wouldn’t be there anymore and I would miss the feeling of home she gave me.
The ‘Cauliflower’ Connection
That rainy afternoon, as the drizzle continued outside, Nani asked my mom what there was to cook for lunch, and Mom replied, ‘Cauliflower.’ Though Nani had aged quite a bit by then and had difficulty walking, she was always eager to help in whichever way she could, especially with cooking, as she was an excellent cook and loved feeding people. Cooking for her wasn’t a chore; it was a deep expression of love.
So, while I was getting ready for college, I brought the cauliflower to where she was sitting and handed it to her to cut. Just then, Nani asked if I knew how to cut the florets without spoiling their shape. Of course, I didn’t, and this is when Nani asked me to watch how she does it and learn.
The next 20 minutes were pure brilliance as I watched Nani separate the cauliflower florets with a finesse that only comes with years of practice. Once separated, she pruned the parts that needed a little extra love, almost with effortless precision and deliberation. And before I knew it, the cauliflower was ready for cooking.
As for me, I had just witnessed an artist at work 🙂
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Years have passed since that rainy afternoon. But even now, whenever I sit down to cut and prepare a cauliflower for cooking, memories of that lazy morning with Nani flash before my eyes, dripping with nostalgia and deep gratitude.
And I am reminded of some of life’s simplest lessons —
- No skill ever gets wasted, no matter how simple and futile it may seem.
- If you want to become perfect at something, keep practising.
- Every person has something valuable to teach you, so pay attention.
- Memories are the most valuable treasures of life. Keep making memories.
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CLOSING THOUGHTS
The humble cauliflower now has a special meaning for me. It connects me to my happy place and helps me recreate the warmth of yesteryears in my kitchen. And it makes me realise that some people never really leave. They live on in the smallest things and the tiniest details, such as the humble, delicately cut cauliflower!
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