The Women who Lived……… The Women who Loved

People get all the prizes in the world for 10-15 years of 8 hour/day services. I wonder if there could exist anything for people who have served for 23 years: 24 hours/day, especially if all they’ve done is love you with all their heart, and expect nothing in return. I had the privilege of having such a special person in my life, at least until recently, till I lost her to the 23rd hour of 11th September 2011. Having only heard of such losses until I feel it as I walk down that familiar path without that person to welcome me, hug me, cuddle me up, and listen to my endless crap, that pinch seems like it’s always been there forever now……….

I was told I met this guardian angel when I was 3 months old, and cuddled in her arms immediately, as if those arms were born to carry me. Since then, there has been no looking back. Those memory flashes I so very frequently have now remind me of how, as a kid, I kept her working all night to get me to close my eyes for a few moments, or how I got her to roam around the city to get me a cereal of my choice, or how I took her for those endless walks, or how she sat mending my toys every other day so that I could get 1 more shot to break it into pieces. Her recollection of every bruise, scrape that I ever had told me of how much it hurt her mentally, even though most of them hurt me a few seconds. I still remember how much she cried when she learnt that i jumped off the 1st floor and got a few stitches, and how she almost fainted when I jumped off the same floor in less than 24 hours after that. The fact that she fondly told her grandchildren/me every memory associated with me/them or that she went hungry on occasions to ensure that we had the spoils of our choice says everything about this godmother whose world began and ended around her family.

Nostalgia surrounds me as I stand outside her lair, looking inside hoping to see my damsel run out to greet me and yell to her daughter-in-laws to start making delicacies of my choice, delicacies which could always feed a battalion. Instead, what greets me is her flower crossed picture and her family (my family) kneeling at it, longing to see the wife/the mother/the grandmother jump out of it, hoping all of it is just a dream. After half a day of running around hoping to catch her in a corner, the kick of reality finally sinks in as tears start pouring out of my eyes to honor the women who changed my life, my world. Recollections of occasions where she talked of me to family/friends, of how proud she was of me, of how she was waiting to come down to Bangalore to see me, of how much she wished she could spend time with me make me wish I had the opportunity to tell her what she meant to me too.

A few people stop outside, stare to the endless wails and babbles of people talking of how she influenced them and ultimately walk away. To the world outside, it might have been just another passing away. To them she might have left this world. To us, she was a legend, a guide and a believer in faith and the power of love. She will always remain embedded in the qualities she imbibed in us, in the values that she inculcated in us. She will be missed, but she will never be forgotten.

Rest in Peace Dear Mother