The Indic culture believes that each of us is named for a reason. Names are not a reflection of your parent’s whim but a symbolic reference of your life purpose. Rarely though in our frenzied existence, do we stop to think about the reason behind why we were named.
Last week, when my grandmother passed, I reflected on her name, Pushpalata.
Pushpa translates from Sanskrit as flower, and lata, a creeping vine. The former is easier to make sense of – through the seasons of life, my grandmother’s garden embodied the florescence of beauty, purity and simplicity. More subtle however is the creeping vine; it grows out along the ground, rooting every so often to enhance the striking presence of other plants with its own understated yet beautiful border. This was my grandmother, Pushpalata Vij.
In a world where lifespans grow shorter with each successive generation, a child is fortunate to spend precious moments with grandparents. For those of us blessed with this fortune, it is painful to see your foundation stone withstand the test of time. Mortal life brings suffering but immortality brings the realization that she is transcended to her happy place, free of afflictions like pain and pleasure.
The irony of life is that only after it ceases, do we find true happiness.