There Was a Tiny Kid and a Huge Mountain

          My paternal grandma had ten kids. My maternal grandma had seven kids. Now they have more than two dozen grandkids. But they are no more. My mom’s mom left us around twenty years ago. My father’s mom left us one year ago. They are no more.  You know, both of them had too much and too many kids. My mom’s mom's name was Annapurna, you know, that means the good of food, you know, her name was the name of a mountain. But she was a tiny woman. But she never thought she was tiny. I was her only tiny grand kid who was like her.

          I was seven month baby. I was born tiny. You know, I was too tiny to carry. Tiny to give a bath. Tiny to hold in a hand. But I was like my grandma. She was tiny, never thought of being tiny. She kept all her children, who were too much and too many to handle.

          My maternal grandma was never tired of being a boss in her life, but that tenacity never bothered her. But the same tininess which I inherited from her always bothered me. I always thought that- the mountain is huge, I am tiny.  So, my story is all about- there was a tiny kid and a huge mountain.