She had dyed black hair mixed with some white hair 

A red bindi on her forehead placed symmetrically  

She used to drape a sari with a lot of patterns on it 

She was my nani, my grandmother, my friend 

My nani used to make the best achaar that I ever had 

My palate still has that tangy flavour of her achaar 

Afterall it was mixed with love and selflessness of hers 

I have bitter-sweet memories of her, mostly sweet 

We both used to dance to old retro hindi songs 

She was always ready to do an impromptu for me 

Nani used to tell me ghost stories of her village 

Some of them sounded fake but she said they weren’t 

Nani left me sooner than anticipated 

She might be in heaven taking care of the angels 

But she had left a lot of memories for me to cherish 

Her bindi, achaar, saari and  her laughter