<p>Not everyone can master the art of narrative skill; it’s a gift that only a few possess. My mother-in-law was one such individual. As a teacher, she was extremely popular among her students and peers alike, thanks to her natural aptitude. The adage “Once a teacher, always a teacher” held true for her, as she continued to teach even after retirement, albeit in a different style.</p>.<p class="bodytext">With her remarkable memory, she would reminisce about various verses from notable authors and poets, quoting them aptly when the occasion demanded. Her love for books was evident, and she had honed her narrative skills to perfection. I vividly remember seeing her for the first time at her house before I married her daughter. She had just returned from school, looking fresh and radiant in a cotton sari, her salt and pepper hair neatly braided and adorned with a laced jacket.</p>.<p class="bodytext">She would sit comfortably on a cane chair, holding a cup of tea in one hand and browsing through a book on her lap with the other. Her elegant, slender face would light up as she read, her spectacles perched halfway down her nose. As I got to know her better, I realised that whenever she spoke about her past, it was like listening to a chapter from a novel.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Although I never had the opportunity to visit Tiptur or Tumkur, where her mother was provided accommodation in the nurses’ quarters during her service, I’m confident that I could identify the places she described so vividly. Her Hyderabad and Kacheguda postings were particularly memorable, with their rich Nawabi culture, refined language, stunning architecture, delectable cuisine and gracious lifestyle.</p>.<p class="bodytext">She would often describe her evenings spent reading in an easy chair or on a rope-knitted cot, sipping black tea flavoured with aromatic spices. A thrill would flash across her face as she narrated these moments, and it was clear that she had thoroughly enjoyed her life. Her delicate stature, sharp features and refined demeanour made her a true lady, reminiscent of the nobility of the Nawabs.</p>.<p class="bodytext">She was impressed by Nawabi culture, their polished language, architecture, cuisine and lifestyle. The houses she rented in both the places were palatial, with high raised roof, spacious well ventilated halls, rooms, delightful gastronomic and informal alfresco. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Throughout her life, she embodied positivity, discipline, self-awareness and the importance of giving back. As a centenarian (1925-2025), her secret to longevity lay in her pragmatic and optimistic approach to life. She remained unfazed by the highs and lows, and it was her positive attitude that had carried her through the years. A lady who never succumbed to materialism, she fought negativity with confidence.</p>.<p class="bodytext">She recently bid farewell to her earthly life, leaving behind a legacy that will continue to inspire us. Her<br /> life was well-lived, and her enduring impact has left an indelible mark on our hearts.</p>
<p>Not everyone can master the art of narrative skill; it’s a gift that only a few possess. My mother-in-law was one such individual. As a teacher, she was extremely popular among her students and peers alike, thanks to her natural aptitude. The adage “Once a teacher, always a teacher” held true for her, as she continued to teach even after retirement, albeit in a different style.</p>.<p class="bodytext">With her remarkable memory, she would reminisce about various verses from notable authors and poets, quoting them aptly when the occasion demanded. Her love for books was evident, and she had honed her narrative skills to perfection. I vividly remember seeing her for the first time at her house before I married her daughter. She had just returned from school, looking fresh and radiant in a cotton sari, her salt and pepper hair neatly braided and adorned with a laced jacket.</p>.<p class="bodytext">She would sit comfortably on a cane chair, holding a cup of tea in one hand and browsing through a book on her lap with the other. Her elegant, slender face would light up as she read, her spectacles perched halfway down her nose. As I got to know her better, I realised that whenever she spoke about her past, it was like listening to a chapter from a novel.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Although I never had the opportunity to visit Tiptur or Tumkur, where her mother was provided accommodation in the nurses’ quarters during her service, I’m confident that I could identify the places she described so vividly. Her Hyderabad and Kacheguda postings were particularly memorable, with their rich Nawabi culture, refined language, stunning architecture, delectable cuisine and gracious lifestyle.</p>.<p class="bodytext">She would often describe her evenings spent reading in an easy chair or on a rope-knitted cot, sipping black tea flavoured with aromatic spices. A thrill would flash across her face as she narrated these moments, and it was clear that she had thoroughly enjoyed her life. Her delicate stature, sharp features and refined demeanour made her a true lady, reminiscent of the nobility of the Nawabs.</p>.<p class="bodytext">She was impressed by Nawabi culture, their polished language, architecture, cuisine and lifestyle. The houses she rented in both the places were palatial, with high raised roof, spacious well ventilated halls, rooms, delightful gastronomic and informal alfresco. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Throughout her life, she embodied positivity, discipline, self-awareness and the importance of giving back. As a centenarian (1925-2025), her secret to longevity lay in her pragmatic and optimistic approach to life. She remained unfazed by the highs and lows, and it was her positive attitude that had carried her through the years. A lady who never succumbed to materialism, she fought negativity with confidence.</p>.<p class="bodytext">She recently bid farewell to her earthly life, leaving behind a legacy that will continue to inspire us. Her<br /> life was well-lived, and her enduring impact has left an indelible mark on our hearts.</p>
