My grandmother was an iron-lady and I draw lots of inspiration from the way she was and the way she lived. All of my life, from birth to the time I was married, I lived with my mother and grandmother in my grandmother’s house. My grandmother was an enterprising woman. I am most impressed with how she acquired a piece of land worth $1,000/- on her own. I wondered how she saw to the paper work and who helped her.
By the time I was 10 years old, she had about 10 cows, with goats, turkeys, geese and chicken. She reared these animals in order to gain fresh milk out of them that she sold as well as the eggs from the fowls. The turkeys were sold during Christmas. She knew exactly when to start growing the chicks and gave them the right amount and type of food to fatten them just on time for Christmas. That impressed me. There was a time, I remember, when there were a number of turkey chicks that hatched. To safeguard them from prowling creatures in the night, she kept them in the house under a special, moveable coop, with a piece of cloth around the coop to keep mosquitoes away. However, the mosquitoes found their way into the coop and the next morning, much to her dismay, my grandmother found tiny bumps all over the head of the chicks. She then made a turmeric paste and holding each one of them, administered the paste on the bumps. This impressed me a lot. She took meticulous cared of the animals she kept.
She kept many dogs, one at a time. One such dog was a cute chubby little black and white puppy well fed with cow's milk. She called this puppy Goondu.
Once, all the cows she had kept in the backyard made their way to the front gate and ran towards the main road where a lot of cars were plying. I cried to her in alarm. Resolute, she snatched a stick from somewhere, headed towards the road, and single-handedly rounded up all of the herd and drove them home safely. Having tied them all securely, she gave them a good dose of scolding, in the likes of, “How dare you ran out of this place towards the road after all the care that you are given. What arrogance!”
My grandmother sold the fresh milk to North Indian and Eurasian families in the neighbourhood. I was given the task of delivering some of the bottles of fresh milk to a Punjabi family living close-by. She used to collect F&N glass bottles. There were two sizes of them, large and small. She would put in clean sand inside the bottles and shake them well with water and clean them out spic and span, dry them and then fill them with fresh milk to be distributed. She used to sell the cows or bulls to the slaughter house that made meat out of them. A few men would come in a lorry to take the cows or bulls away. The animals struggled all the way to the lorry and my grandmother would feel very bad about this but saw no other choice at that time. She used to point out to one particular slaughter house in Jalan Besar as the one where her cows and bulls went. Eventually, years later, when she gave up that particular enterpirse, she must have done so with a sigh of relieve.
Living so closely with her, I am also privy to one of the deepest regrets that she held as a weight in her heart forever. That regret was about her youngest daughter Anjalai, who according to her could have been better settled in life. She was hastily married off just before the war broke out in Singapore, with the Japanese occupation. She would save extra for this daughter of hers and constantly brought supplies from home to feed the large family. I often travelled with her to this daughter’s home in Potong Pasir to deliver vegetables and some money. On our return journey, we used to rush to catch a tram. I was very scared of this tram. I was pulled along as I was slow, busy with the sights and sounds of that area. She also offered eggs and vegetables to her eldest daughter’s family, when they were living in Veerasamy Road and Hindoo Road. In fact, I was the one who would carry about a dozen eggs to school to have it delivered to one of her grand-daughters, Olages, my cousin, who was studying with me in the same school. I would wait at the bottom of the stairs for her to come down after her school hours were over. She would bring the eggs back to her home to feed a young family of 6 children. There were days when Olages did not turn up and I would bring the eggs back home, some times broken. The egg would spill over my books and on top of that I would get some scolding from my grandmother for being careless.
I have heard from my mother-in-law about my grandmother. Somehow, it represented the impression others have of my grandmother. It went along these lines.. referring to how my grandmother conducted herself in funerals she attended. “Your grandmother! She would come, sit quietly in a corner without talking to anyone and left as quietly.” Not many outside appeared to admire this trait in her.
However, for me, my grandmother remains a morale booster till this day, although she is no more. In my opinion, most of the girls in the family inherited the fire which she had. We are generally not bothered about what people say or think. There is a tendency in us to always remain cool, calm and steady at all times. I am extremely glad that I inherited the dynamic, strong character which she had. No matter what problems I face in life, thinking of her gives me the inspiration to push on, and bravely too, without fear or hesitation. Till today, to ignite the fire within me, I think of her. Thoughts of her make me strong and steady.
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