Carrying prejudice to the grave ..

The flame of life

My husband's grandmother passed away a few days ago at the ripe old age of 95years. She was a matriarch who ruled the family with tyranny. On hearing of her death, I felt a sense of regret that she never let go of deep rooted prejudices and carried them all the way to the grave. Despite spending countless hours in temples and religious readings, her heart never softened with love nor did her mind expand with wisdom.

Her brahminical sense of superiority and entitlement. Her prejudice and treatment of people of other castes and creeds. Her preference for the boy child over the girl. Her treatment of daughters-in-law as nothing but work horses. Her preferential treatment of lighter skinned grandchildren over the darker ones. Thus she is remembered.

Her life is a reminder for us to wash away all prejudices that stain our heart before the flame of life dies out.