Ganga’s gone. Physically gone. Her obituary appeared in the Manorama newspaper yesterday. So it must be true. I find it hard to believe, because I wasn’t there when it happened. Chennai was in a lock down and Dad and I couldn’t travel to Palakkad for her funeral. How cruel is this life that we couldn’t be with the one person who has been with us through the good and the bad and everything in between. None of her loved ones were with her when she passed away.
As I sat in Chennai praying for her soul, I heard the phone ring. I answered and the person on the ‘other side’ said she was Thankam’s (Ganga’s) granddaughter. I told her that I was also her granddaughter. After talking to her for a few minutes I handed the phone to my mother. Later, I asked my mom who it was, because the lady on the phone had never mentioned her name. My mom told me her name was Indira. Indira also happens to be my grandma’s name.
Later that evening, the Roman clock that was a farewell gift to my grandpa when he left England, chimed once. The clock doesn’t work and hasn’t been wound up in a while. It hasn’t chimed even once since January, which is when I landed in Chennai. Coincidence? I think not!
It was as if both my grandma and grandpa were letting me know that Ganga was not alone and that they were there with her. I also found feathers and saw a lot of butterflies over the past week. An old family friend who also works with energy told me that Ganga’s energy was almost angelic and that she was definitely at peace. I wasn’t surprised because even in life she was a magnanimous soul. The kind that could give endlessly without ever running dry.
A couple of days ago, while sifting through old albums to find a picture of Ganga for the obituary page, I chanced upon a picture of a very close family friend who had passed away several years ago. She also knew Ganga very well. I sent the picture to her daughter and after sending it realized that it was her mom’s birthday. Was she also letting me know that she is with Ganga?
And then someone called me a gem just out of the blue. That’s my nickname that grandma came up with. It was like all the departed souls who knew Ganga were letting me know (in no subtle way) that she was fine. She was not alone. And they were all having a lovely reunion on the other side. Death is not the end. The soul goes on. And love goes on. That love is something I can always connect to. Not through painful memories but through all the love I received from Ganga when she was alive. True, I cannot hug her again or eat out of her hands or smell the scent of sandalwood on her skin. Nor can I hear her laugh till tears came out of her eyes or see her wide smile as she spotted me coming home from school. But I can close my eyes and feel her love well up in my heart and course through my veins. A love so strong that even death cannot dampen it.
I will love you, Ganga, always and forever. Thank you for showing me what unconditional love looks like. May our souls always stay connected through lifetimes to come.
P.S. The title for this blog post was a whisper from the other side. I randomly started singing Adele’s song “Hello” in my head. “Hello from the other side” is the song’s refrain. Also read “Love Never Dies” which is about how I feel my deceased grandma’s presence even today.