“Urmi, beta, get up “said Amji
“Urmi, the sun is on our head, wake up, else you will miss the school bus” said Amji a little loudly and nudging Urmi with her elbow.
“Get up you lazy bone, when will you grow up” yelled Amji
Now Amji was extremely angry and shouted “Urmi, you never get up in time and only spoil my morning sleep. Do what you feel like doing!!”
“Oh! Amji, sorry, sorry. Two more minutes and I shall get up” pleaded Urmi.
“Yes ofcourse!  As if I am new to your stories” said Amji.
This was the everyday morning conversation between the grand mother and her grand-daughter. Amji had been the care taker and foster parent to Urmi since her parents had passed away.
Urmi, the short for Urmila  was a firebrand of a girl. A tomboy who was brash with every being.  She had terrorized the urchins in her neighborhood. They never dared to mess with her. On many occasions she would defy her grandmother as well and do her own mind. Urmi lovingly called her grandmother, Daddi-Maand she actually meant Daddy and Mamma. She had anglicized her grandmother’s name from Ammaji to Amji.

Her grandmother was a simpleton of a woman who thought that she was alive only to settle the complains that the neighbour’s had against Urmi. Besides the whines of the neighbourhood, Amji loved to hunch and work endlessly on her kitchen garden and the zinnia’s, rose bushes’, petunias and many more flower beds she had nurtured.
But irrespective of everything Urmi did, she loved her old granny.  They both had only each other for crying, laughing and making merry.  Urmi’s fabulous relation with her granny was often a topic of conversation amongst her friends.
One day Urmi was narrating one such episode to her friends, and it goes –

One day I was sleeping in Amji’s room, because my room had a big mouse in it.  So I pulled my charpoy from my room and took it to Amji’s room.  Amji’s room had an old Godrej cupboard, an old Singer manual sewing machine and a few cotton saris lined up for getting ironed. I was missing my room but could not go back for the fear of the mouse, which Amji refused to shove since she believed that it was some sort of good fortune for us. Amji had not retired since she was winding up the kitchen but I was tired and slept off.
Next day when I woke up, Amji told me that I was sleep talking.  In the middle of my sleep, I had sat on my bed, rolled up my sleeves, made a fist of my hands and swung my right arm and pretended to throw something to a fictitious character on the other side. And while I was doing all this theatre, I was also shouting “no runs…….no runs…….. no runs"
Amji’s slumber got perturbed and she walked up to my bed and held both my hands tightly by the wrist.  She tried to shake me and wake me. But I was more forceful and pushed her aside. My poor granny stood startled at what was happening. Finally with all the commotion I woke up and pleaded with her to let me sleep more. She went back to her charpoy and gave an impoverished smile. She said “My dear! I was only doing what you were asking me to do”.   I was bewildered and asked “When did I say that Amji? I never asked for your help!!”. “Young girl, didn’t you say – noaarun, noaarun, noaarun” (meaning give me your hand in Kashmiri), said Amji.   Aghast I retorted “Amji, you don’t let me be alone in my dreams also! You love to disturb my slumber. I was playing cricket with my friends in my dream and after the batsman could not  hit the ball very far, I called out to  him saying “ no run,  no run,  no run” , that’s because there was very less time for us to run between the wickets! Oh Granny you are getting old now. But sorry my soliloquy disturbed your sleep. Sorry Amji”
 We both had a hearty laugh and Amji cuddled me tightly.