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The Portrait of a Lady Summary.

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The author’s grandma was old and wrinkled for about twenty years. The author was told that his grandma was once young and pretty. She had a husband. But the author could not bring himself to believe it as he had seen her old right from his childhood. The picture of author’s grandpa was hung in the drawing room above the mantelpiece. He wore a big turban and loose-fitting garment. His long beard ran down to his chest. He appeared at least 100 years old. He did not look like a family man who could have had a wife and children. He only appeared like an pld man with many grand children.

Grandma was bent with age and had been so for a long time. Her entire body was wrinkled crisscross. She hobbled about the house with one hand on her waist to balance and another hand telling the beads of her rosary. She was always found whispering some inaudible prayer. Her silver locks were scattered on her face untidily. She was beautiful like the winter landscape in the mountains. She was an expansion of pure white serenity breathing peace and contentment. 

The author and his grandma were great friends. As his parents had left him under her care and went to live in the city, he spent most of his time with her. She used to wake up the author early in the morning and helped him to get ready for school. She would sing morning prayers in a sing-song voice to enable the young author to remember the prayer by hearing. She would feed him with a stale chapatti smeared with a little butter and sugar. She would fetch his wooden slate and she accompanied him to school everyday. She would bring a lot of stale chapattis for the village dogs back home. She loved temple which was a place of worship and learning.

While the priest taught the children letters of the alphabet, grandma sat inside the temple reading scriptures. When her reading of scriptures and the author’s learning of letters got over for the day both would return home. While returning home grandma would feed the dogs with stale chapattis. The animals would fight among themselves as each chapatti was thrown.

In the village the author spent a lot of time with grandma. But after moving over to the city, he went to an English medium school in a bus. There were no dogs. She started feeding the sparrows. Grandma and the author were in the same room but the time they spent together got reduced considerably.

The author was happy to share the new English words he learn and Science theories like Archimedes’ principles, law of gravity and the shape of the earth. This upset her. She could no more help him with his lessons. The new school did not teach about God or scriptures. The day the author said that he was taking music lessons in school, she became uncomfortably silent.

When the author left for university, grandma was resigned to the fate or a secluded life. She continued her spinning work and chanting. The spinning wheel and prayer kept her busy all day. She rarely spoke to humans nowadays. She relaxed for half an hour in the afternoon.

This was the happiest time of her day as she broke the bread into small bits to feed the sparrows. It was literally a bedlam of chirruppings. Some would perch on her legs and some on her head. She never shooed them away. Instead, there was an angelic smile on her face, She relished those moments.

The author had the opportunity to go abroad. Grandma came to the railway station to farewell. She did not show any emotion or sentiment. Her moist lip imprint on his forehead, j made him wonder if it was her last physical contact with him.

I After five years, when the author returned, she met him at the railway station. She did not j appear to be older. She just hugged the author but continued telling the rosary. She did not i try to show interest in knowing what happened abroad in his life. Instead, she continued to evince keen interest in feeding the sparrows. She fed them longer.

One evening grandma did not pray. Instead, she got an old drum and started singing. She sang of the home-coming of warriors. Everyone got anxious that grandma might strain her nerves. Perhaps it was her swan song.

Grandma ran a temperature. Doctor said that it was a mild fever. But grandma predicted that i her end was near. She didn’t want to waste her time talking to the family members. Grandma lay in bed telling the rosary. Before sunset, her lips stopped chanting and the rosary i fell from her hands. The peaceful pallor on her face conveyed her soul’s departure from the ! body.

She was lifted from bed. She was covered with a red shroud. After a few hours, the body was | left alone to make funeral arrangements. They brought a crude stretcher to take her to the cremation ground.

The sun was setting. Grandma’s room was lit with a blaze of golden light. The room where ! the body was kept, thousands of sparrows sat scattered on the floor.

There was no chirruping, i The family was sorry for the birds. Mom broke the bread into crumbs, the way grandma used I to do, and threw it to them. But not a single sparrow took notice. When grandma’s corpse was carried off, they flew away quietly.

Khushwant Singh’s The Portrait of a Lady, in short, gives a splendid pen-picture of his own j grandmother who had steadfast graceful values and philosophy of life. She lived and died gracefully

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