A secretive story: My grandma’s special powers

Radhika D Shyam tells the story of a magical grandma who can hear what objects have to say

Hey there, I’m sorry I can’t reveal my name. It’s a secret because I want to remain anonymous. I’ll tell you why!

I have many friends, but my best friend is my grandma. She’s the reason why I have to be secretive about myself. You see, she’s a DoT... no, not a doc as in doctor, but a DoT, a Doctor of Things; and only she and I know of this. She hasn’t told anyone about it, not even my parents, because it’s a magical thing, and she might just lose her powers if more than two people learn of it. Telling you readers is okay, I guess, because you don’t know who I am. And I’m never going to tell you either.

About two months after my ninth birthday, I fell ill with jaundice. I was feeling very low. My grandma came to stay with me since my parents had to travel for work. They were relieved to get her help. It was then that she let me into her secret. Initially, I thought it was a joke to cheer me up. I soon realized it was amazingly true.

She has this magical stethoscope with which she can hear what the objects want to say but can’t because they have no life. These things speak through her, and I can just about sense a vibration in her throat but can see no lip movements. Unbelievable, isn’t it? Let me share some case studies of the few things we tried it on.

The couch in a gruff, muffled voice:

“Please be kind to this poor couch.

I can’t bear it when you lie or slouch.

When you fall hard on me,

it hurts big time. Ouch!
Please sit upright.
It’s good for you
to stay in shape, and for me too.”

Believe me, after I heard this, I sat gently on the couch and felt sorry for all the cruelty inflicted on it till then.

Next was GI Joe in an authoritative, soft tone:
“Oh, boy! I’m just a toy.
Owned by a boy till I give him joy.
And when he’s grown, I’m forgotten and thrown.
Why can’t he see that I’d love to be
with just anybody who will play with me?”

No more throwing toys in the garbage when they’re old, I promised myself,
and decided to give them to other children and bring happiness to their lives.

The doorknob had a nice baritone:
“You grab me and turn me on your way out.
I’m forced to put up with your unkind clout.
When you bang the door, you’re being rude and mean.
But now and then, do wipe me clean.
To kill the germs — not just for sheen.”

And true to its word, on close scrutiny Grandma and I found the knobs of all the doors quite dirty. We wiped them clean with antiseptic. She made me promise to wash my hands before every meal or snack.

One day, when I was fussing over lunch as usual, she brought out the magic stethoscope. This is what the food on the plate had to say in a sing-song, high-pitched voice:

“I have travelled far and long,
so to shun me will be wrong.
You’re lucky to get me. I’ll make you strong.”

Then Grandma told me of the long journey of all the ingredients from the lands of farmers to the village dealers, then to the wholesalers and retailers.

“Your mother has carefully selected all that is there on this plate,” she explained, “and cooked a meal for your well-being. There are millions of children in this world who sleep hungry every night. You are blessed, so don’t ever waste food.”

I reformed totally after that talk and thanked God for the gift of food.

I must share the thoughts of the contents of my elder sister’s wardrobe. They said,

“We are so many clothes meant to be worn
till we are old and torn.
But the picture inside is forlorn,
for most of us are hardly used.
’Coz your sister is rather confused.”

My sister shopped like crazy and hoarded clothes as if the world would soon run short of them.

Suddenly, my attention was drawn to my shoes. Grandma read my thoughts and complied. This is what the shoes had to say in a peppy voice full of life:

“We take you here and we take you there.
We take you almost everywhere.
We’re useful — an essential pair.
We cover your feet and protect the sole.
But we’re never given a thought through the rigmarole.”

Never a dull moment with my grandma’s special powers! I bet you envy me!