When one of the neighbors came to see her for the last time she remarked at her piety and dedication. “I have watched grandma for a decade now, rain or shine she is busy praying at dawn and dusk”, said Mrs. Malini. Opinions, judgments and remarks never mattered to her now and then. The relationship she had with almighty and with herself seemed paramount and lasting till the end.I have seen grandma for the past 35 years and prayers have always been a part of her routine. Infact she would drop in a few coins in my piggy bank only if I prayed with her in the morning and evening. She was not buying my devotion with money but rather teaching me to make deposits in the bank for this life and for the next life.
She was hardly 30 when the tempest of the storms turned her life upside down. Her husband was a public figure and the whole city had come to pay respects to him. She didn’t even have her private moments with the man who left her with six children, a few lakhs in debt and a few hundred acres of land to cultivate. Her mother-in-law took her share of the wealth and left the young widow with six kids. She had no choice between cry or care, she had to stop crying and start caring for her little ones immediately.
There was a blanket of peace and ocean calmness on her face as she lay in the hall surrounded by relatives and visitors and waiting for her sons and daughters to arrive. May be she felt peaceful after dispensing all her responsibilities. Even while was in the hospital she would persistently ask me about my marriage plans. It was my marriage that was in her mind more than her ailment. She was always thinking ahead of her times and her outlook was so forward. Many times she said she was okay if I brought home someone outside the caste. Well she knew more about marriage and partnership, I just had to nod my head, not to peace her, but meekly listen to her.
Today she reminded me of the huge busy banyan tree with flowing roots and filled with chirping birds on every branch of the tree. She was mother to six, grandmother to 18 of us and great grandmother to 8 of us, and many to many more. The tree never discriminates; it is birds that decide to either make it their home or just a perching ground.
Her journey of life was not that simple and straight. With six 6 children, the last one was just a few years old, no siblings to support or relatives to even offer words of wisdom and consolation she had very difficult choices to make. A few of the half dozen were sent to her father in Madurai and the remaining was sent to the newly built bungalow in Chennai with a guardian to watch them over while she decided to stay back in the village and manage 300+ acres of land. She was not educated beyond PUC and but where and how did she pick up the art of management – both people and property? When the doctor came out of the ICU at 2 AM he said the last few minutes were very peaceful, though she cried in pain when they ran the peripheral line earlier that night.
Does equanimity come as a result of experience or is it innate? I will never be able to answer this question for you. But equanimity was her companion till the end. Even in the pit of sorrow or in the pinnacle of happiness, she remained grounded. She had considerably distanced herself from outcomes of any event, but never from humanity. Daughters and daughter-in-laws meant the same to her just as sons and sons-in-law.
She had not given an opportunity for the three daughter-in-laws to raise a finger against her. More than giving someone an opportunity to complain she was just too perfect for people to ape, crib or praise. The three could never recall rebuked by their mother-in-law. Freedom was abundant in the house, but never was it misused.
Be it a festival or function at home, she would be the first one to sit down and make plans. But today we were making plans for her final journey. She was the custodian of values would guide the women in the house. Her kitchen, almirah, her room, her prayer room there was decorum and dainty. Her sense of cleanliness and hygiene was impeccable. She presented herself so well that nobody could stay away from admiring her. She kept her distance, but she always left people in awe and admiration.
I have spent so many summers with her and had an opportunity to closely observe her. Her words and thoughts were as orderly as her room and belongings. Measured, right to the context, compassionate, non-judgmental, and unassuming. She knew how to engage with elderly and children. She was both gentle and genteel. In the 35 year I have never heard her speak ill of anyone. We all have a story to say and a script to enact, but still why should we cruelly judge each other? That was her line.
She would spend half hour with the cook in the morning and give instructions on the meal plan for the day. Apart from giving her the menu, she would give her tips to make it more nutritious and tasty. Her prudence and resourcefulness can never be matched.
She spent her afternoons caring for animals and her garden and in her letters she would talk about the new born calves and varieties of hibiscus and vegetables she has planted in the garden. It didn’t matter if I was in Chennai or in Chicago, I would receive a letter from her every month.
After dinner she would spend listening to songs on AIR, talking to her children and writing letters to her grandchildren. Sometimes men from the village would come to her for advice and wisdom, she was just a friend. Those who came for her funeral narrated many incidents of her care and compassion.
When she lived in the village she would visit us alteast twice a year, once during Diwali and during April. Her visit would be like Christmas to the kids. We would have new clothes, fireworks, sweets and unlimited pampering. Every night after dinner and homeworks, we would throng around her for our story hour. Not sure if Oosi pullai story was a legend, but it was a part of the legacy in our family. Every grandchild would know this story. Since we’ve never seen our grandfather we would ask her to share anecdotes from her wedding, her interactions with my grandfather and about the halcyon days. She would still be in the house among all of us, and yet enjoy her personal space and respected ours.
A widow in her 30s, dressed in 9 yards went on the public platform and addressed the political rallies. It was unacceptable for widows to maintain hair and to go out in public with hair and in 9 yards was blasphemy. Many in the family and village criticized her; secretly many women and widows admired her courage and bravado. Her mother-in-law treated her badly, but she never disrespected even when meted with cruelty. Today I see working women struggling to strike a balance between professional and personal life, tradition and modernity, she had mastered the art then. What qualities to admire, what qualities to appreciate, we were always dumbfounded and today we were incessantly starring at her. She didn’t need her diamonds for her journey anymore, she was radiating in goodness and godliness.
She was never short of criticism, aspersions and it came from all corners, sometimes from her sons and daughters. Nothing is more cruel than being misunderstood by your own blood. She stood tall unwavering and unconcerned. Some found her perfection an eye sore, some found their imperfections in her perfection, some found her equanimity troubling, some found her cold and calculative, but yet she managed to live a life of respect and deliver her responsibilities with perfection and mettle.
She was father to six children and duly dispensed the responsibility of finding good partners and caretakers for the family legacy. She was dear grandmother to 18 children and showed us the way to live and lead our life and was a guarding angel for the 8 grand children.
She appeared asleep, but we all knew she would never wake up from this long sleep. She was lying on her right side and her eyes were intently looking at the photograph of her and my grandfather. Together grandfather and grandmother looked like Rathi and Manmathan. It was time for to end the 50 year separation from my grandfather, time to unite with him in spirits. May be my grandfather’s untimely death brought the best in her.
12 grandchildren held the torch high giving her all the respect and love for her next journey, sons got in the van to complete the final rites, while daughters-in-law for the first time felt the weight on their shoulders. They wiped the tears and got back in the house with memories and learnings of their life time. Our “Mummyma” was gone.
