My Aiyya and the Exemplary Journey of her Life

This story is based on the life of "Mrs. Jagwanta Pandey" who was the great great grandmother of my chachi, Dr. Anita Upadhyaya and whom she lovingly called "Aiyya". It is a narration based on the events as told by my chachi.
In the year of 1902, in the village of Manth, near Ghugli station, Dewaria, Uttar Pradesh, when India was struggling for freedom, under the glimmering shimmer of the stars, the villagers heard  a cry.
"Congratulations. Goddess Laxmi has bestowed her choicest blessings on your family. Such a beautiful daughter", chimed every one who saw her.
Being the daughter of the most respectable Zamindars of the village, she lived life like a princess surrounded by maids and servants who adored her. Big innocent eyes, dusky complexion and a smile that could melt even the strongest hearts. She personified beauty. Blessed with an extraordinary melodious voice, her mere words sounded like songs of a nightingale.
At a tender age of fourteen, she got married. Her marriage like the village fair lured her since she was a little girl. She felt happy, extremely shy, excited all at the same time. Trying new jewelleries, bangles, clothes, she beamed with joy. Her father gave everything that could have been possible from drums filled with gold, elephants, the best sweets but to his surprise her father-in-law refused to accept anything.
As a part of  their custom, she went to her in law's place for a few hours and returned back. She was too young to fulfil the duties of a wife. There were another five years before she could join her new family again.
She enjoyed her stay at her home cooking, sewing, playing with dolls and talking with everyone in the village. One day she requested her mother to allow her to study. Soon her father arranged  for the best teachers and her daily lessons started.
But destiny had other plans. There came a telegram. Her husband died of smallpox, an epidemic that was spreading like wildfire in the country.
Soon all her green, pink, red, blue sarees were replaced  by white cotton sarees. Her bangles lay shattered on the floor. Her forehead that so proudly was marked with red was bare now. Her long, lustrous hair cropped short. She could not understand why everyone was cursing her fate and crying. Her mother in a few days also got caught by the epidemic.
She felt alone. Everyone who once loved and adored her had started detesting her. She was prohibited from attending any auspicious ceremony, badly scolded if she laughed, cursed for bringing bad luck and continuous remarks of being evil always hit her hard, She was confined to a small room in her palatial house.
In a few months, she withered away like a flower that did not receive sunshine.
She went to her father and hesitantly asked him if she could go to her in- laws place. Surprised by her unusual request, he tried his best to make her understand that her home was the safest place in this word for her and her in-laws maybe wouldn't want her there. But her constant requests made him change his decision.
Clad in a white saree, she entered her in-laws home. Her mother- in- law hugged her hard and smiled telling the house members that her daughter had arrived. Everyone in the house welcomed her with so much warmth which was contrary to what her father had told her.
The very next day, her new mother got her a blue saree but she refused to wear it. She started liking the purity of the color white.
She was simple, she never made unjust demands, devoid of tantrums. Her father came many times trying to cajole her into coming back home but being caged like a bird in a big home was something she did not want to experience again. She loved her new family so much, she did not want to go. Neither did she want to marry again. Strange but her decisions were firm.
She played with the children, cooked food often competing with the "elder bahu", she made stuffed toys with so much precision that left people wondering if they were factory made. Occasionally she loved fighting with the elder bahu but being the apple of the eye of the entire family  she usually won.
One fine day the family was invited to a big feast in the village. Her mother in law took her early for helping the people with their preparation. Suddenly someone pointed at her calling her a widow and asking her to leave the place at once. Her father in law who was also the Sarpanch and an unusually calm person lost his cool strictly telling everyone that if they treated their daughter as an outcaste , his family would never participate in any celebration. For the first time in the history of the village a widow had attended a celebration. She had tears in her eyes. She was subjected to so much isolation that she never expected people to accept her. Not even her own father voiced his displeasure against the ill practices and here there was a fatherly figure with whom she had never had a word and he was fighting for her rights. Her devotion towards her in-laws increased multiple folds that night.
Years passed. She grew old but she still played with children. Her heart never grew old. She'd play with kids with the same energy and vigour at times fighting while declaring the winner. She was often seen making "Choolha", a fireplace to cook, by the river to please little girls who had a yearning desire to learn cooking. She'd paint the "Takhtis",writing slates, of children, helping them with their homework and even sometimes writing their homework. It was then the kids started calling her "Aiyya".
Aiyya was everyone's best friend and everyone's confidant. Kids discussed their homework and heard stories. women often poured in for advices. All vows and all happiness were shared with Aiyya. Any big or small problem had to be rushed to her in order to be solved. No decisions were made without asking her. Every new born in the village wore clothes specially made by her as an omen.
With time Aiyya changed her life from a curse to a blessing.
Aiyya spent her life among people she had no relation with but who meant her world.
"Acceptance when comes from both the sides creates bonds that are stronger than blood relationships."
Her life was a perfect example of it. She was the most heart warming, giving and loving individual, devoid of any cunningness or shrewdness.
To accept others you need a clean pure heart and that was her most precious asset. Her in laws got a daughter in her and she got family, respect, love and freedom in their home.
Nobody knows what prompted Aiyya to come to her in laws, neither the reason behind her undeterred devotion towards her in laws was known.
Even in her last days , she was often seeing playing with the grandchildren of the village.
Amazingly her smile never left her face in those 85 years she lived.
Even today if you happen to got to the village of Chakdehi and ask about Aiyya, someone would be as eager as me to tell you her story
She was our Aiyya, our great great great grandmother.