My earliest memory of dadima is as a five-year-old in the UAE.
Clearly, for my brother and me, dadima was our favourite grandparent.
Food and dadima were nearly synonymous, with recipes and good food being the central topic of many a conversation.
Tasty meals constantly graced our tables on dadima's visits home and on vacations when we visited her in India, her fingers turned into culinary magic wands conjuring up exquisitely tasty traditional food flavoured with love, whilst strictly considering individual food preferences.
Dadima had an uncanny knack of remembering each gift to her and the household; of remembering how many days it was since a particular child/grandchild had called or visited, which grandchildren had been born in the same month or approximately the same time of the year, how many days it had been since she left the ancestral home on her own visits to her children - all this information was at the tip of her tongue at any time of the day, all year, much to our collective amazement!