Remembering A Special Mom








My first visit to Bangalore was in the year 2004. 
I was visiting my brother but I was more curious to meet someone else. 
In fact, I was curious to meet a particular family there. 

I knew how they looked. I knew where they stayed. 
I had a fair idea of how the house looked; how many coconut trees were there 
in the courtyard... and how a particular room looked through the webcam. 


I had met A online in April '02. When I actually met him 
in the summer of 2004, I felt as if I had met an old pal.

During my two-week stay in Bangalore, I had been to his home many a times. 
I met his mom, dad and sister.  Mom was very warm and affectionate. 
I was lucky to have enjoyed amazingly delicious food 
cooked by A's mom and coffee prepared by his dad.

I met his sister only once or twice. She would mostly be at work when 
I visited their home. She found her jovial and sweet.

Mom took care to make new dishes every time I visited. 
I am a foodie and when it comes to home cooked food 
prepared with lots of love, I wouldn't miss the opportunity for anything. 
Almost every second day I used to have lunch or dinner with them.

It was for their warmth and love that stayed with them for hours 
even when A wouldn't be around. I am selfish, I confess. 

A's mom was into reading and a lot many things. 
She would do all the homechores and 
take time out to teach neighbourhood kids too. 
She was so energetic and active. 



******


When I visited Bangalore the second time, in Feb '06  
I went to my friend's place one more time -- to meet his mom and dad, 
and his newly born niece. That time I was with my mom and dad.

A's mom was bed-ridden. She looked frail and very very weak. 
She was struggling with multiple myeloma -- a type of cancer regarded as incurable. 

My mom took her hand in hers. I don't remember what they talked about.
It was brief; we didn't want A's mom to exhert herself.

Hiding all her grief and pain, she smiled. 
She pointed at a particular direction and told us that 
her grand daughter resembled her daughter.

In a cradle slept the five-month old baby girl,
unaware that she had lost her mother a week after her birth.

How does one bless a motherless infant... I pondered in confusion.
She had already lost what she needed the most -- her mother.

I didn't know what to say -- whether to congratulate my friend and 
his family on the birth of the baby girl or 
offer my condolences on the death of the baby's mom.

There was so much pain in the eyes of A's father. 
He had lost his daughter and was not sure 
if his wife would survive the deadly disease.


One of the saddest moments of life is when you don't get to meet the person 
you had met a few days/weeks/months back and all you see is 
his/her photo frame on a wall with a garland hanging on it.


It was painful to look at A's sister's photo frame in a corner of the living room. 
It would be more painful to see another photo frame now -- that of his mom. 


******


For the past few weeks A's mom has constantly been in my thoughts. 
I had never remembered her so much since her death.

 When I think of her I recall a particular poem I had read long back. 
Back then, I had just read it. Now, I relate to it.

As a tribute to A's mom I share that Hindi poem here.

I see her as a brave and strong woman 
who had faced life's toughest situations with great courage.
I see this attribute in my friend too. 
She lives on... in him.


Here's the poem titled Maa penned by Nida Fazli:






माँ

बेसन की सोंधी रोटी पर 
खट्टी चटनी जैसी माँ ,
याद आती है चौका-बासन, 
चिमटा फुँकनी जैसी माँ ।

बाँस की खुर्री खाट के ऊपर 
हर आहट पर कान धरे ,
आधी सोई आधी जागी 
थकी दुपहरी जैसी माँ ।

चिड़ियों के चहकार में गूँजे 
राधा-मोहन अली-अली ,
मुर्गे की आवाज़ से खुलती, 
घर की कुंड़ी जैसी माँ ।

बीवी, बेटी, बहन, पड़ोसन 
थोड़ी-थोड़ी सी सब में ,
दिन भर इक रस्सी के ऊपर 
चलती नटनी जैसी मां ।

बाँट के अपना चेहरा, माथा, 
आँखें जाने कहाँ गई ,
फटे पुराने इक अलबम में 
चंचल लड़की जैसी माँ ।

*** *** *** ***


Maa


Besan ki sondhi roti par
Khatti chatni jaisi maa
Yaad aati hai chauka-baasan
Chimta phukani jaisi maa

Baans ki khurri khaat ke oopar
Har aahat par kaan dhare
Aadhi soyee aadhi jaagi
Thaki dopahari jaisi maa


Chiriyon ke chahakaar mein gunjey
Raadha-Mohan Ali-Ali
Murghe ki awaaz se khulti
Ghar ki kundi jaisi maa

Biwi, beti, behan, padosan
Thordi thordi si sab mein
Din bhar ek rassi ke oopar
Chalati natni jaisi maa

Baant ke apna chehra, maatha,
Aankhien jaane kahaan gayi
Phatey puraane ek album mein
Chanchal ladki jaisi maa.


[Chowka-baasan = kitchen-utensils] 
chimta = tong/ phukani = blow-pipe used to make chapatis]  
[Khurri Khaat = a cot without a sheet]
[natni- tribal woman who shows stunts, including walking on the rope.]

Remembering A's Mom...

She was/is one of the most special moms I had met, I had known.
Co-incidently, She and my mom share the same name.


*****





[P.S  Friends, I have been receiving your mails, notes and comments. I have not been able to reply those. I thank all of you for being patient and kind. I hope to get better soon and write to you individually. Your visits and comments encourage MU. Cheers and Regards.]