This is not about the Hindi movie, but about a majority of the Indian mothers - the kind like that of mine - who have been a 'great giver' and a 'silent provider'.
Endless flow of love, affection and resources --- the children will never feel the pinch of any kind of shortage (even the husband may end up feeling that there seem to be more of everything, than perceived).
A tamil old song sung by T M Sounderrajan for a Shivaji ganesan movie has a cryptic message - "Give all the saved money and wealth into the hands of your Mother, for she alone will spend very prudently, aptly and make it swell and grow Six Times..
It goes like this ....."Sertha panattha sikkanama, selavu panna pakkuvama, amma kiayile koduthupodu chellakannu, avanga aaranooru aakuvaanga Chellakannu"!
The wife won't? No debate here please!
My mother grew in Mylapore - of a family of six. Medium educated and the family priority, failing health of my grandmother got her off school. Grandfather was a lawer who was more of a music lover than a practicing professional.
Married into a family that had grown roots in Rangoon, she moved on to Burma. The 1941 war brought disaster to the family. It was a joint family where my paternal grandfather, grandmother, my parents and two aunt and an uncle, with their kith and kins lived in one roof --- with allthe luxuries of life; a large home, car and work force - a chauffer, cook and a gardener et all!
Many of the folks had to leave by the last ship back to India while the rest desertd home and fled on foot!
Reshaping life in mid forties and building a home with a family of that size and direct six siblings were no easy task. Father was very philosophic and was very unlucky - that whatever he touched in business, it failed!
Settled afresh in Madras, the first time as a tenant, they had to begin a new life. Property and wealth in Rangoon compellingly and completely abandoned, the new journey in penury was necessarily marked by 'parsimony and prudence'. Their life's saga was full of hardships and endurance. Later, we shifted to a small owned residence with a garden in Pallavaram, a suburb, in 1950. With six of us children coming into the world, they achieved nothing short of a miracle in educating us all and enthroning us in good circumstances. Obviously, and this is really axiomatic, my mother's share of the burden was more daunting and immense. There was no way for us but to love her and adore her. Her life's journey ended a little too short, in 1984.
Today --- 17th May 2008 – would be 24 years since Amma left us. Just 10 days before what could be the happiest moments of one's life – ones wedding??!!
What was it? Just another round of asthma attack – one that followed the typical Delhi ’s dust-storm and an unusual hail-storm. She started wheezing on the 15th May (1984) – and a VIP attention at the Safdarjung Hospital ’s ICU would do some good – we all thought then. Did she imagine the situation to be really worse that she was there?! NO! She was just not made that way! What little I saw of her – she was a fighter, even if it meant fighting it alone!
The lady had once stepped on a snake – late night, walking alone to the ‘out-of limit-zone’ toilet in Pallavaram!
She was capable of getting her dental extraction in T’Nagar, return from Mambalam, with two bags full of vegetables. Travel by train and walk back from the Pallavaram station. The cotton swab tucked under her teeth would only reveal blood and her silent pain. She did this every time.
She was just great at resource management –could perhaps teach at Ahmedabad or even at Harvard? (Now that Lallu could also be heard there!) She saw great resource from everything home-grown / littered in the campus of 40 Bharati nagar. She augmented funds from the sale of curry leaves, malli-poo, coconuts, drumstick, cow-dung cakes, milk n curd, cart loads of natural manure to trunks and branches of ‘Udhayan and Konnai’. (In Tamil it meant useless tree!). Every Rupee was supplementing the financial resource that was required to run a household of 6 adults, including their college / school education.
While on the one hand there was resourse crunch, on the other hand she’d been a generous giver – share the best of ‘Malgova mangoes’ with all relatives, living far and near. We had spent on train and bus tickets to show her true love for them and express that she cared for people. Was that her PR?!
She was a perfect hostess! From nothing she’d be able to make meals for endless flow of relatives and friends. Appa honestly never knew what was available and what was not! From endless flow of butter milk for the tahsildar’s men to relatives from Madurai or Mylapore. Every item would have a special flavour of her love.
From people to cats, dogs, cows and buffaloes – she loved all these…and had assigned names for all these. A trait that was caught on by all of us?!
Her Mylapore upbringing must have helped her keep abreast with the festivities and functions at home. From the special delicacies emerging out of the kitchen to performing the pooja, she would switch role with poise. Appa had a special place for only he would do the arti. [She’d inspire Appa to sing many Bhajans on such moments].
Today, I pay my humble respects to her - and my father, whose every small acts, un-said messages, culture and value-based living, stand tall as a beacon-light in my life.
If I live the path they showed and pass on a small percentage of their values, into my child (although of another era), I would consider this life well spent usefully on this planet.
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