There was an old woman named Dwarakakaku who used to stay at Shyama’s house. During the time of sharing the harvest, she would come and stay with them. Her brother—Shyama’s father—would be busy working in the fields, tending to the rice crop. None of them were idle. Her brother’s nature was such that she trusted him completely.

The children had given her a nickname—Durva Aaji, the Grandmother of Sacred Grass. During the holy months of Chaturmas, women would offer sacred grass (durva) and flowers to the gods. From morning itself, women would come to her for durva. She considered serving the gods as her duty.

“Where has Aaji gone? Aaji has gone to pluck durva,” the children would say. And so, she came to be known as Durva Aaji.

She had many virtues. Every morning, she would draw water from the well with her own hands and give it to others. She never complained of any hardship. At night, she would guard the fields all alone. If someone’s body ached, she would apply oil and relieve their pain. If the children fell ill, she would tend to them. If someone suffered from fever, she would give them advice. She would fetch water from the well for those in need. Her hands were blessed with healing power. When Shyama’s eyes troubled him, she would always rub his feet with the sacred cow’s ghee. She cared for everyone in the house and the courtyard.

This is how people’s help is sometimes rendered.

Aaji (grandmother) had connections with all the families in the neighborhood. She played games with the children. She attended the Mangala Gauri gatherings. She would go wherever there were games being played. Songs of different women would be heard there.

Aaji would help Shyam’s mother a little as needed. She would cut the vegetables and give them. She played with the little children. If there was grinding to be done, she would lend a hand. But by nature, she was whimsical. It was hard to say when she might get upset.

One day, assuming that Aaji would help, Shyam’s mother decided to prepare the flour mixture and set things up for grinding. She told Aaji about it. But that very morning, an invitation came from a neighbor for a special occasion—someone in the family was making payasam, and Aaji was invited. She was, after all, the village grandmother. She would be specially called for making papads and pickles. She would spend the whole day there, eating and chatting, and return in the evening. That day, she agreed to go.

When Shyam’s mother heard this, she was annoyed. She had already told Aaji about the work of preparing and grinding the flour, but now Aaji was saying she had to go to the neighbor’s house for papad-making. Shyam’s mother was angry at her for putting off the work at home. Thinking about all the chores, she said to Aaji, “If you go, how will the flour mixture get done here?”

Aaji