“So, you are my grandmother.”
“Hmm”

“I never saw you since I was born.”
“No”

“Where are you from, Grandma?”
“Ansari Nagar.”

This broke the limit of my patience. One word answers for a whole volley of questions? Simply outrageous.  “Why can’t you talk to me properly,” I snapped.

I got the irritating disapproving look again. My initial fears and apprehensions had blown into the thin air by now. How dare she come and behave in that way with me in my own house?

I looked her in the eye and knew very well that I was looking like a stubborn child rather than an understanding, mature girl. Suddenly my eyes fell on the clock on the mantelpiece. Ten minutes  past eleven. My parents were supposed to return by eleven. I guessed they probably were caught in the storm. I hoped they were safe and sound. The rain had stopped for some time . The trees outside swayed dangerously and there was no way I could let the lady wander alone at this eerie hour.

After what seemed like eternity she finally turned her gaze and met my eyes. “ I haven't kept in touch for years. I never saw you. But my heart knew I would meet you. Fate brought you to me or rather me to you,” she mused. Her rattling dangerously edged on senility though she seemed perfectly fine to me physically.

My thoughts went back to what if she really was a relative. What if I came to know I was a descendant of some zamindar or better a king?  Well that would be fabulous. But what if it all was a trap? What if Grandma was planning to ambush me? Though it seemed unlikely, old as she was, that she would make a batman leap at me.

“ What is your name?”

I was startled.

“Shreya,” I managed to whisper. Somehow my trust in her was still not enough. Though wanting to know my name could be plain courtesy on her part ,I was wary and all the while I wondered how late could my parents possibly be.
“Do you know what your name means?”

Before I could reply she mumbled, “It means ‘the best’. But your behaviour is not up to the mark. I may be a complete  stranger to you, but yes I am not a bad person. Well bad is a relative term,” she smiled showing a row of yellowed teeth, “ I guess it wouldn’t hurt to trust me a bit. I could do with a little bit more respect. Your parents are not at home. You are alone and very afraid. That is natural. I would have done the same if I were you. Trust is what a society is based on. Trust is lacking in this progressive world and hence society is crumbling. Mistrust and hate is controlling the world... ”

Her continuous ranting came to an abrupt halt as another spell of rain came crashing down on the glass pane. She glanced at the clock, yawned and looked straight at me.

“I came here to give a gift to your mother. I haven't been here for her wedding.  I wanted so badly to come,” she let out a sigh, “ My husband passed away and I couldn't pay a visit to your house.”. She took my hands in her. It felt unusually warm and comforting. I almost forgot that she was unknown to me. I somehow felt safe. A part of my mind screamed that it was wrong. But I couldn't break away. Kindness exuberated from her eyes. I felt weirdly comfortable. I almost basked in her grandmotherly warmth. I surprisingly didn’t miss my parents any more.

The incessant pattering of rain on the roof of the house made me sleepy. My long lost Grandma smiled. “I am all alone since then. My kids send me money and look after me. But they can’t just stop for a minute to talk with me. They are busy hankering after money and job. The highly materialistic world has led to degradation of family values as ties loosen up.”

There was no trace of the grumbly old lady any more. I felt a kind of pity for her. I realised with a shudder that I may one day grow up to be like her children. I may forget to spend time with my parents. I could almost feel her despair. Isolation is a curse.

“Come you must sleep,” she insisted out of the blue, “I’ll make the bed.”

My mind was instantly on the guard. Why was she being so nice? I shouldn't have forgotten  that I didn't know her. I couldn't trust her absolutely , could I?
She gave me no time to think. Deftly she went to my bedroom door. I reluctantly went after her. Well who knows what she may be planning. She however had no intention of any sort. I could see her withered frame move hither and tither  across the room. The bed was made in a jiffy. I for my part, could never have broken her record.
Yet the lure of a gentle voice and a cosy bed was not enough to make me let down my guard. I moved back to the living room ignoring the beckon of sleep. I saw hurt in her eyes. I felt bad but I was taught to be cautious. Was I being paranoid? Surely, no one could dupe me.