(It is one of the several ironies of life that the first of my blogs is dedicated to' my mother', a person; widely feared and admired ; in that order; including by yours' truly , who has a somewhat turbulent relation with the said protagonist.That I choose to say this story from my better half's point of view is strictly a matter of choice.)
Majestic!........... clad in an ochre yellow patiala suit and a fiery red shawl , she looked like royalty; suitably fleshed out and stern looking as if in a perpetual state of disapproval.To her right , stood a bemused looking tall dignified man , smiling through his military moustach eand golden white neatly tied beard.He raised his bushy eyebrows and 'winked ' at me, and all of a sudden all my apprehensions melted, as I felt every pore of this gentleman ooze compassion and warmth.
As I bent down to touch her feet, even her stiff disdaining visage melted into a smile of temporary acceptance. All my 'inadequacies" were swept aside , to be dealt with at a later date, by any means. The scrawny look, lack of lipstick, loose T-shirt,acid-washed jeans were perhaps not her idea of how a future 'bahu'should be dressed. To top it all off , were my' pop- singer ' like hair.Each strand in a state of rebellion, electrified by 440 volts of electricity, giving a raging'standing on the edge ' look.
The end effect of it all was perhaps,best described as whisky and water mixing .
She , dominant, and I submissive and meek.
Her stock of knowledge was abundant and I was a willing learner.
The mother and teacher in her, literally took me under her wing, Gourmet recipes were demonstrated and taught.All my culinary skills developed in her spotless kitchenlined with green granite. The fine art of kneading wheatflour into a soft dough and thereby rolling them into 'aromatic' rotis were all part of the package passed from the master to the disciple.
She stood by me through all the 'Faux Pauxes' that I made. Like a fierce muscled watchdog ,she saw me through my pregnancies. Watchful and cautionaing at times, she was there as well while I endured the pains of bringing up two daughters(lovely). Etrernal gratitude pours from the very depth of my being for all that she did.
The call of parental duty took her across the seven seas to quell domestic unrest in her youngest child's haven. Months of unflinching service were rendered to the joyous bundle of innocent flesh and blood-her grandson, while the immature parents battled to sort out their differences.
I was destined to meet her for the first time at a railway station.............,where i saw the 'blue blood'.Years later I was to receive her again, this time at the international airport. Wheel chair bound,sitting crushed and broken.A balding middleaged son pushing her towards us while she clutched desperately at the urn which contained the ashes of the person who hitherto had been her 'ATLAS'.
Her ever smiling husband had always been unshaken by whatever turn life and destiny had chosen to take while he lived,making him a giant of sorts from whose shoulders, she had had a birds eye view of the worldand now.........he was no more!
A decade has gone by since then and the 'BANYAN TREE' of our lives departed ,yet she has survived without the shade or the heights that were an inseparable part of her life in the form of Dad(in law).
Decalcified bones weakened by years of existence coupled with an artificial right hip, two external eye lenses and a hearing aid(the use of which she abhors) are now her constant companions.
PAMPA........PAMPA, she calls in her quivering high pitched voice sending ashiver down my spine each and everytime she calls. Fear of a fall, a break or god knows what else!!
Suddenly,as if from nowhere, appears this apparition of my smiling dad-in-law , with his wonderful moustache and beard, naughtily raisig his bushy eyebrows and giving me his trade mark 'wink' . The fear and apprehensions vanish and I rush to her side.The auditory hallucination of the childlike voice of his mothers voice(my mom in law's mother in law), who had to endure nine long years of post CVA disability in the form of severe left sided hemiparesis , calling. 'GYAANI', she would cry out and with the alacrity of youth my dad in law would respond with a smile and child like fervour.
Waves of energy, as if from another world suffuses my being and a spring enters into my step as I jump to answer the call of my own mother in law.................... !
Majestic!........... clad in an ochre yellow patiala suit and a fiery red shawl , she looked like royalty; suitably fleshed out and stern looking as if in a perpetual state of disapproval.To her right , stood a bemused looking tall dignified man , smiling through his military moustach eand golden white neatly tied beard.He raised his bushy eyebrows and 'winked ' at me, and all of a sudden all my apprehensions melted, as I felt every pore of this gentleman ooze compassion and warmth.
As I bent down to touch her feet, even her stiff disdaining visage melted into a smile of temporary acceptance. All my 'inadequacies" were swept aside , to be dealt with at a later date, by any means. The scrawny look, lack of lipstick, loose T-shirt,acid-washed jeans were perhaps not her idea of how a future 'bahu'should be dressed. To top it all off , were my' pop- singer ' like hair.Each strand in a state of rebellion, electrified by 440 volts of electricity, giving a raging'standing on the edge ' look.
The end effect of it all was perhaps,best described as whisky and water mixing .
She , dominant, and I submissive and meek.
Her stock of knowledge was abundant and I was a willing learner.
The mother and teacher in her, literally took me under her wing, Gourmet recipes were demonstrated and taught.All my culinary skills developed in her spotless kitchenlined with green granite. The fine art of kneading wheatflour into a soft dough and thereby rolling them into 'aromatic' rotis were all part of the package passed from the master to the disciple.
She stood by me through all the 'Faux Pauxes' that I made. Like a fierce muscled watchdog ,she saw me through my pregnancies. Watchful and cautionaing at times, she was there as well while I endured the pains of bringing up two daughters(lovely). Etrernal gratitude pours from the very depth of my being for all that she did.
The call of parental duty took her across the seven seas to quell domestic unrest in her youngest child's haven. Months of unflinching service were rendered to the joyous bundle of innocent flesh and blood-her grandson, while the immature parents battled to sort out their differences.
I was destined to meet her for the first time at a railway station.............,where i saw the 'blue blood'.Years later I was to receive her again, this time at the international airport. Wheel chair bound,sitting crushed and broken.A balding middleaged son pushing her towards us while she clutched desperately at the urn which contained the ashes of the person who hitherto had been her 'ATLAS'.
Her ever smiling husband had always been unshaken by whatever turn life and destiny had chosen to take while he lived,making him a giant of sorts from whose shoulders, she had had a birds eye view of the worldand now.........he was no more!
A decade has gone by since then and the 'BANYAN TREE' of our lives departed ,yet she has survived without the shade or the heights that were an inseparable part of her life in the form of Dad(in law).
Decalcified bones weakened by years of existence coupled with an artificial right hip, two external eye lenses and a hearing aid(the use of which she abhors) are now her constant companions.
PAMPA........PAMPA, she calls in her quivering high pitched voice sending ashiver down my spine each and everytime she calls. Fear of a fall, a break or god knows what else!!
Suddenly,as if from nowhere, appears this apparition of my smiling dad-in-law , with his wonderful moustache and beard, naughtily raisig his bushy eyebrows and giving me his trade mark 'wink' . The fear and apprehensions vanish and I rush to her side.The auditory hallucination of the childlike voice of his mothers voice(my mom in law's mother in law), who had to endure nine long years of post CVA disability in the form of severe left sided hemiparesis , calling. 'GYAANI', she would cry out and with the alacrity of youth my dad in law would respond with a smile and child like fervour.
Waves of energy, as if from another world suffuses my being and a spring enters into my step as I jump to answer the call of my own mother in law.................... !
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