My Grandmother's House
by Kamala Das
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A nostalgic, confessional poem contrasting the poet's secure, love-filled childhood with her empty, painful present. She recalls a house far away where she 'received love', her grandmother's house. After the grandmother died, the house 'withdrew into silence'; too young to read, the poet left the books untouched and 'snakes moved among books', and her blood turned 'cold like the moon'. She longs to return, to peer through the dark windows and listen to the 'frozen air', and to bring back an armful of darkness to lie 'like a brooding dog' behind her bedroom door. In the final lines she confesses to her husband/reader that he cannot believe she once lived proud and loved in such a house, for now, starved of love in her adult life, she is reduced to 'begging at strangers' doors' for even a little 'change' of love. The poem is a poignant cry of a woman who traded a childhood palace of genuine affection for a cold, loveless adult existence.
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Kamala Das (1934–2009), also known by her pen-name Madhavikutty, was one of India's most prominent, raw and confessional English-language poets. 'My Grandmother's House' is a deeply nostalgic, confessional poem that contrasts the poet's secure, love-filled childhood with her empty, painful present life.
The house of unconditional love
The poet begins by recalling an old, remote house where she once lived: 'There is a house now far away where once / I received love.' This house belonged to her grandmother. In this childhood sanctuary she was showered with pure, unconditional love, free from any expectations. But with her grandmother's death the house fell into deep, silent neglect: 'That woman died, / The house withdrew into silence.'
The imagery of decay
Das paints a vivid picture of the house's decay after her departure. Because she was too young to read at the time, her grandmother's books lay untouched, and 'snakes moved among books'. She recalls how her blood turned 'cold like the moon' in fear when she looked at the empty rooms. She expresses a deep, burning desire to return, to fly there, peer through the dark, dust-filled windows, or listen to the 'frozen air' of the rooms. She wants to gather a 'handful of darkness' from that house and bring it to her current bedroom, letting it lie like a protective, brooding dog behind her door.
The present void and begging at strangers' doors
In the final lines the poet addresses her husband or reader, confessing the tragic reality of her adult life: 'You cannot believe, darling, / Can you, that I lived in such a house and was proud, and loved...' She has lost her way; in her modern marriage she is completely starved of love and emotional warmth. In her desperation she is reduced to 'begging at strangers' doors' to receive even a small 'change' of love. The poem is a poignant cry of a woman who has traded a childhood palace of genuine affection for a cold, loveless adult existence.