A nostalgic memory of ajji - cousins' granny.

Ajji in her red saree and shaved head was a sight I’ll never forget. It wasn’t a style choice, though. It was part of the mandatory rituals she had to follow after Thatha passed away. Despite the somber reason behind her look, Ajji refused to let it define her. In her 80s, modern in thought, she still wanted her lipsticks and nail polish, secretly asking us grandkids to sneak them in every time we went shopping.

We’d laugh behind her back, imagining her strict face adorned with bright red lipstick, while she powdered her already pale face like it was some grand occasion. It was hilarious—and heartwarming—this strict, no-nonsense woman who still had a streak of vanity and a hidden sense of humor. She was the kind of contradiction that stays with you forever—traditional on the outside, rebellious on the inside.