Ashwitha Jayakumar

Only my inimitable grandmother could give everyone a fright and then spend four long days dying, making us keep vigil around her bedside; even at the end, she gave us a reason to eat together, laugh together, look at old photo albums and share the many, many stories we have of a life colourfully and exuberantly lived.

Only my grandmother could choose life every single day, refusing to give up on herself even in her 80s, never letting cancer, or a fractured vertebra, or excruciating pain stop her from learning new things, photographing her garden, listening to music and even making morbid jokes.

It's hard to think of her as not being there, because she is still there in everything I am. She made me a reader, a traveller, a writer, a fighter of battles and lover of beautiful things and music. She shoved me out the door to find adventure and romance, was the best dancer at my wedding, explored London and Delhi with me, convinced me to take a long and hilarious train ride from Chennai to Delhi, and absolutely adored Angshuman, whom she thought the funniest, most gorgeous fellow I could have found.

I will miss her immensely but after her long battle with pain, I'm glad she's at peace. I don't believe in god or an afterlife, but if I did, I'd imagine she's hanging out there with her handsome, adoring husband, eating croissants and toast slathered with butter and marmalade as she cheers us all on, rooting for us to live our lives as vibrantly as she did hers.