Ma

Shakespeare's "Seven Ages of Man" came alive with my interactions with ma during the last 2 months of her life. By then she was an invalid, paralysed on the right side, but with a full zest for life. She found if difficult to swallow and so had to be on a liquid diet, but dreamt all the time of eating Pullav and maacher kalia, and having rajbhog to finish of her meal!She loved to be pampred and the more I pampered her, the more she would make a demand for it.As long as she was able to communicate, she would have a non verbal communication with me. She would admire my junk jewelry or my new dress, on days she was in less pain. She knew the time of my arrival even without being able to look at the watch. Michael Jackson passed away when ma lay paralysed, the news saddened her greatly. Her speech then was badly affected by her right brain being dysfunctional, but all her difficulties she would try to tell all who visited her, her shock and disbelief at the death of MJ. I smiled through my tears at her predicament, I thought soon ma would be keeping with the company of the likes of MJ in a world unknown to us. The doc's had given up on her life, what they were unaware of was her zest for life. She lived life to the fullest. She would make faces like a baby, she would be moody at times and ilogical and I would cajole her to listen to me. She became my precious toy. all my free time was spent with her, feeding her, changing her nappy and dressing her bed sores. The last four days before her final call, ma fell very silent, she barely woke up from what appeared like a deep sleep. she would respond only to my call, it gave me great thrill to holler "mommy" and see a slight movementin her frail body. On the last evening that I spent with her she shuddered inwardly when I called her. Little did I realise it was her non verbal gesture of a good bye. I kissed her eyes and her chin as I left her fast asleep. Early next morning she passed away, a few minutes befor I could reach her place.
The rest would be a normal story of sorrow at the loss of a parent around whom my world revolved. But thats not what I want to say, I want to tell all who read this blog that I am happy to have had the opportunity to serve ma to the best of my ability, in some small way mabe even returned a bit to the ocen of her contribution to my life. I stand tall and proud today for how she moulded me, in many ways realised her dreams through me. I owe her my very existence. My joy lies in the fact that I could be with her in her most trying and lonely moments and bring a lot of cheer to her life. I thank the almighty for having given me this rare opportunity that will give me momories to fill an entire life time and more!

The Amazing video that got me thinking

A moving video clip from National geograpic got me really thinking...It was the usual chase and kill of the survival of the fittest. It always makes me unhappy to watch the unequal power fight where the vanquished has to give up only because God has not made us all equal. This one was a little different, the protagonaist was a female leopard out on a very successful hunt, where she had managed to catch a female baboon. Only half way through the gory act of hunting does she realize that the baboon was fully pregnant, and the pain of her death at the hand of the loepard naturally made her to deliver the little one. The loepard too realized a little late that she had killed a vulnerable mom, beating the thores of the delivery pain and thus limply submitting to the onslaught. The change in the leopards behaviour was what got me mesmerized. Here was no play-acting. The leopard too soon forgot her kill as her eye caught sight of the just born baboon. Here she became a mother to the hilt. Gone was her ferocity, They say an animal kills only when hungry. She forgot her hunger and her prime focus was to look after the motherless baby. the care and love she showered on it was to be seen to be believed. The little monkey, true to its breed, tried all the monkey tricks to break free from the leopard. The latter remained persistent in her effort to comfort the little one until both tired from their individual endevours drifted into sleep, not before putting a comforting paw over the little one.
Such is the role of a mother,very protective, very caring...so often we tell about people who misbehave that they possess animal like qualities. Human beigns could take a note from their animal counterparts on various instances like the one mentioned above...how often we read od a half eaten new born in a dustbin, or another new born found in a gutter or abandoned on a foot path?

change is the order of the day...be it with tangibles or intangibles..

Change of room again! That was my reaction when I got shifted from the cubicles we sat in on the fourth to the single cabin down in the basement, the same basement that used to be our haunt earlier when I had just joined ITM. Nishi and I shared a cabin in those days and were so reluctant to go up to the cubicles. We concocted all the possible reasons to come back to "our' basement as we termed it. It fell on the deaf ears of the management. Appraisals done, the management then saw reason to shift me back to the basement. By this time I had got throughly adjusted to the cubicles and didnt want to come down. But we inferior mortals in a system can very rarely have our say in management matters. So back I was to a cabin in the basement. I would make a cursory visit to the fourth floor to meet up my old room mates. vain as I may sound as I write this, but its true, the place had lost its charm, it has become so academic in its atmosphere, everyone busy at their work stations, making notes reading journals, creating PPT's. My jokes and laughtter would liven them up everytime I stepped in there."Mam please come in more often, we need to laugh sometimes!", they would say. The Dean of the college must have had a purpose in sending me into solitary confinement in the basement! Archana my dear colleague would ask between laughs as to how I manage to sit by myself for one whole day all by myself in my cabin below. She knows me for a little over 6 months but she has already made a good analysis of me. She knows I love people and interpersonal skills is my main forte. Being with people makes me come alive.
I have lost a lot of people in the journey through life. Some have died leaving me all lonesome, but there are others who have just distanced themselves for reasons best known to them. I create a bond of my own with people who come into my life and stuggle hard to keep each relationship alive, for each is special in its own way. When people move away from my life, I try my level best to bring them back to where they belonged, my heart. since my childhood, gaining the love of my friends and relatives has always been my prime motive. I take it as a rejection when friends move ahead in life and dont have the time or inclination for me. But there is precious little I could do to alter their intent. Adn so I go on with life, missing the people who have left me behind, nevertheless going ahead...for that is life...
I am moving out of the basement cabin too, today is my last day here...I have been assigned a bigger cabin with more facilities. My dear room, I am not leaving you out of choice, but out of compulsion...

Ma dated 23 jan 2009

Ma is old now, the wrinkles on her cheeks stand testimony to the years gone by...the stuggles that she has faced...she was definitely not God,s chosen one. She grew up motherless, her mother having died when she was an infant...she grew up beautiful...proud..upright, very blunt at all times. She was very talkative and had an infectious smile. She married baba when she was 20, baba, not so handsome as she describes him in his young days,I found him to be dashing, he grew handsome with age, like old wine, I have taken after him, hahhahaa...
Ma spent many a years without baba, work took him away and she had us brats to look after, didi, Gopal and I. Gopal was her favourite, she would breathe Gopal, thought him to be an incarnation of the God she prayed to, she was blind to his faults. When baba died she came to live with us in Mumbai, our roots with chennai dried up with baba's demise.
And then her favourite, Gopal too died. She is inconsolable to this day. She is lonely. We all have our life to live, our struggles, our toils,our tears and joys...and we in the process become so selfish that we fail to see her sentiments at times. She is like a child today, needs all the care and attention. her frail frame is bent with age but her indefatigable spirit undenied.

Postscript- I had composed this much before her death way back in the begining of the year, left it just as it is without any editing, this is the ma my companion as I saw her, she dependant on me for everything and me dependant on her for her sheer presence in my life that feels os incomplete without her now!

Athiti Devo Bhava

Todays headlines have an ominous tale to tell, India has been declared as one of the 20 most dangerous places for tourists to visit. The tradition of India says Athiti Devo Bhava, which means, the guest is considered to be God. We have grown up believing this doctrine which ma had iterated again and again. As a child I considered the chief of the Thieves in the story of Alibaba to be really really villainous since his strategy was to vanquish the family of Alibaba by befriending them. He deserved to die, thats what I thought then, now, when I look at the pictures of the terrorists, mutilated and lying in a pool of blood, the rage is similar, they deserved to die too. The only difference in the story is that, In the Alibaba story, they were nabbed before they could attack, in todays story, hell has been let lose with the havoc they have wrecked on innocent public. Having targeted the posh hotels of Mumbai, they have instilled fear into the minds of the public about the Hospitality which we Indians are so proud of.As a mother of a growing teenager, my heart also goes out to the terrorists who in their impressionable age have been brain washed to believe that in destruction lies the joys of revenge. They may have been promised heaven on earth for their deeds. Now with nine of them dead, and one begging to die, the traditional Indian in me doesnt wish the live terrorist any harm. On the other hand I pray that he realizes his grave mistake, and lives with the guilt of his ill deeds, a conscience that will prick him for the rest of his life and rob him of his peace of mind. Let this be an eye opener to all impressionable youngsters that integrity of soul is the prime gift of God. A Margina in the present day may have averted a great deal of tragedy, but the likes of Margina exist only in fairy tales I guess.

creative juices have taken a sabbatical

What else do I say, why this long silence? Too much has been happening and not happening with my life, at this age to be at cross roads is not very comfortable at all, every day seems to add on to complexities and unraveling them and moving ahead in life is a daunting task.
People's insensitivity hurts me the most. I have grown up with the lesson ingrained in me that treat others as you would like to be treated. have to the best of my knowledge incorporated this dictum in my dealings with one and all. It amazes me to see people so caught up with themselves that they have no time to realize the hurt they cause to the other by their selfishness. Generation gap seems to be the major problem with me, having a large number of young friends really doesn't help. I just have to be my mature self I guess to tide over this predicament.
With a mind thus disturbed, its not at all easy to be creative, so I thought to myself, let me pen down the reasons for my vexations, maybe that will help me to flush out the irritation, and start afresh. Writing is a passion with me, wouldnt like some stupid emotion to hamper it.

Age is just a vague number

Age is not in the years we have walked the earth, it is in the mind, and I do believe in this adage. Have been a teacher for donkeys years so to say. and dont seem to have grown a single day since the day I began teaching. The youthfulness of the crowd I breathe with for the best part of the day I think never lets me grow old.The child in me never died ever. Just a while ago a good friend of mine commented on my previous blog, saying that I sounded like a kid opening a parcel that came to me all out of the blue, but thats exactly how I felt at that moment. An excited kid tearing up the stairs to get into my room to open the parcel.
My recent visit ti Chennai to meet my classmates at the 25th alumni meet, I realized how we only suppress the child in us, with all the worldly cares and responsibilities that life brings on us. We were like wild teenagers for that one day, no cares in the world.It made me sit up and and think that life is too short too waste away with tears and cares, let the child in me live till the day I die.