What my grandmother taught me about language It began in the most unremarkable way, like many things in childhood do, without any sense that what I was seeing would stay with me for years, and yet, looking back now, I realize that what seemed ordinary at the time was quietly teaching me something I would only understand much later. My grandmother, my dadi amma, was a deeply conversational person, someone who carried within her a natural warmth, an ease with people that did not depend on shared backgrounds or formal introductions. She had a way of sitting with someone and, within minutes, dissolving the distance that usually exists between strangers.