My Dadi (grandmother) passed away last week. She was 97 years young and led one of the most incredible lives a person could live. A full life. There is so much to learn from how she lived, so much to be inspired by. I spent this last week flying to India, attending her cremation and prayer meeting / funeral, traveling with my dad and brothers to release her ashes into a holy river, listening to stories about her life, and being with family. Simply put, my Dadi was built different. Her life was rife with adversity. Most people born 100 years ago led lives that would cause almost anyone born today to wither and crumble away and to run to therapist's offices yelling burnout and being diagnosed with 30 different mental health disorders before they turned 30. But people were built different back then. My Dadi was built different. Married at 16 and then being forced to leave everything behind and flee what is now Pakistan during the partition of India/Pakistan in 1947 is a fate many people sadly went through. Far fewer did it while pregnant. My Dadi was taken to hospital to give birth with gunfire and riots causing terror throughout the city. My Dadi was built different. Not too long afterwards, she was tragically widowed and become a single mother of 3. Being a single mother at any time is difficult. Being a single mother 60 years ago was so much more difficult. Being a single mother 60 years ago in India of all places, where women still (sadly) struggle for equality in so many areas of life, is a hand of cards not many would be able to play well. Most would collapse, most would crumble, but not my Dadi. My Dadi was built different. She knew she needed to find a way to provide for her family, and she wanted to give them a good life, with all the opportunities she could give them. So she got a job, in 1964, in India. She was one of the first working women in India, especially in a corporate job. She started out as a public relations officer for a cookware company and by the time she retired in 1991, she retired as CEO. My Dadi was built different. Retirement was not actually a concept my Dadi knew though. She spent the last 20-25 years of her life volunteering at a Hospital in Bombay, helping to organize, helping to fund raise, and just.. helping. TWO DAYS before she passed away, at 97, she commuted 1 hour each way into town to the hospital to attend a meeting and do work. I mean, that’s so insane. Because of her work and efforts with the hospital, a new palliative care center opening in two weeks will be named after her: the Uma Bhasin Memorial Palliative Care Centre. My Dadi was built different. She was the epitome of a lifelong learner. She learned to drive at 65 years old. She was always learning. Any new technology, she wanted to learn. She was a wizard with an iPad and smart phone. She embraced social media and kept connected with the family any way possible. She never wanted others to do things for her, instead asking people to teach her how to do things for herself. To the end she could get up from a chair by herself, and would do laps of her apartment and building hallway with a walker to exercise daily. At 97. What freaking excuse do any of us have? My Dadi was built different. Family was the most important thing in the world to her. She passed that philosophy down to her children, and they to theirs. If anyone in the family needed help, she was there. When other family members passed away and left behind children (even if these children were adults), she would adopt the role of being a mother to them and offer real love and support. She was a true Matriarch, through and through. My Dadi was built different. Those who know me know that I am a big believer and follower of Stoicism. The philosophy and way of living that the Stoics wrote about and lived, to me, makes the most sense of any philosophy to live life by. Many of us would-be Stoics draw inspiration from the “great” Stoics: Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, etc. But my greatest Stoic inspiration is my Dadi. She was the embodiment of being Stoic: wise, just, courageous, and with a pragmatic temperament. For 97 years she didn’t whine, complain, wallow in self pity, or find life too difficult. She dealt with her problems head on, with logic, with reason, with justice. My Dadi was built different. A common “criticism” of being Stoic is that it renders people emotionless, stone faced. That’s a pure misconception in my opinion, and my Dadi was the shining example of this once again. There’s a quote by Seneca that goes “si vis amari, ama” translated to “if you wish to be loved, love”. My Dadi loved with the grandest and most open heart of any person I have ever known. She loved, she laughed, she lived life to the absolute fullest. She had an infectious laugh, an unparalleled sense of humor, unbound generosity, and the ability to see the best in everyone and make the best out of any situation. Always helping others, always loving others. And so she was duly loved in return. My Dadi was built different. On a more personal level, she taught me so much, and so much of the man I am today is because of her: either directly through her, or through the lessons she passed down to my father which he then passed down to me. She was a card player her whole life, and taught me to play cards before I could even properly hold them in my little hands. We played Rummy, and we played for money. It’s no wonder I found myself a professional poker player for 15 years, and now in the crypto space. She instilled in me from the very beginning the importance of playing fairly, of playing smartly, of being strategic. And she ever never took it easy on me, or anyone, no matter their age. She’d give me pocket money at the start of every trip to India, only to win most of it back most of the time by the time I left. She never once let anyone win, and though we became more evenly matched as the years went on, she was always the best. Til the very end. My Dadi was built different. It is hard for me to conceive of a world without my Dadi. She was just always there. She was my home base in my home base of India. Every trip back started and ended with her. She is the last of my grandparents to pass, and I so wish I spent more time with her. One more trip, one more phone call. This is how it always goes, but if you’re reading this, and you’re lucky enough to have grandparents still around, go visit them or give them a call. As I get older, I value family more and more, and the cruel thing about life is that as one gets older, they tend to spend less and less time with their families. Such is life. My Dadi would not want anyone to regret or lament, she would want us to stay connected with one another and keep her legacy alive, keep the family strong, keep learning, keep loving, keep laughing. And so we will. For her, for us. Because my Dadi was built different. Rest In Peace Dadi. I’ll miss you, but you’ll always be with me. You left an indelible mark on this world, and your life and legacy will live on in all that knew you, all that will come to know you, and all that were inspired by you. It will live on in your family. You were truly built different 💜.
@Zeneca Thank you for sharing Bhai. She was def built different. May her soul rest in eternal peace. Thoughts and prayers with you and your family Zen!