Grim Life Lessons
Grandma could fill my imagination with mythical tales from ancient India. The characters came alive every evening. She'd sit on a wooden settee, and all of us would obediently sit cross-legged on the floor. She was a natural storyteller who invariably ended the session on a cliff-hanger. When we begged her to tell us more, she'd give us a sweet date. It was, as she put it, the magic medicine that made good children sleep on time. For the longest time we all ate it as a goodnight snack and slept soundly. Tales of kings and queens, palaces and nether worlds, heroes and villians, empowered women and men sparked imagination. Winged chariots, sinewy steeds faster than the wind, majestic elephants would fill in where she left off in vivid dreams.