On mothers

A dear friend of mine recently lost his mother and wrote a powerful, emotional eulogy for her that I wrote about in my earlier blog. 

The loss of a mother is the most profound event in one's lifetime and leaves wounds that take a long time in healing. For many even the thought of thinking about the departed becomes too painful and they go through life nursing the loss. Having gone through this experience twice in my lifetime, I can confirm that one does not ever get over it and the loss hits you at times when you least expect it and with an emotional force that leaves you drained and dry.

l lost my mother when I was not even thirty and had not enough time to spend with her in her last years having been abroad or away from home. She was a kind and generous soul with a delightful smile and a kind word for everybody. It has been one of my eternal regrets that my children never knew their grandmother and that she never got to see her daughter in law or her two grandchildren and now her great grandchild. She would have been so proud of them but that was not to be. As years pass by, memories fade but I will always remember her sweet disposition with nary a harsh word for anyone and a willingness to listen to everybody's problems and lend a helping hand. She was graceful and even when we kids teased her about her lack of English skills ( she learned the language after she got married and was not familiar with our jargon of the day) she took it all with good humor. Now all I have left are but sweet memories of her:

“a traveller between life and death:

The reason firm, the temperate will,

Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;

A perfect Woman, nobly plann'd

To warn, to comfort, and command;

And yet a Spirit still, and bright

With something of an angel light." My mother and I in 1945

It was a few years later that her younger sister took over the mantle. For the next four decades she was to be our surrogate mother guiding us through some of the most turbulent times of my life. I had married out of the family norms and was ostracized for almost decade and through it all she comforted and guided me through the emotional turmoil. She was there when my children were born and became an adoring and loving grandmother to them. To my children, she was "bari Aunty" and they rejoiced in her company even as she upbraided them and chided them into discipline. Actually my own memory of her growing up was of a strict disciplinarian who kept all of us children in line in our grandfather’s house in Lahore. She may have been a “phantom of delight” to her college mates, but to us children she was the "dragon lady", both feared and loved. Of course, all this changed when she got married. She then became our favorite aunt, generous of her time and love. We would spent summers with her in Iklehra, Parasia and Burhar, all coal towns where her husband worked and these were summers we all eagerly looked forward to filled as they were with affection and laughter (and don’t forget the lovely cakes). Later when I returned from the U.S in the early seventies, she was the bedrock of our family and the refuge that both Ena and I repaired to. And even when we left Delhi, on our return she was always the first person we saw and the last person we had dinner with on our way to the airport. She was our confidante, and adviser and our biggest defender and our warmest refuge.  She died a few years ago having lost her will to live after erbs palsy took away her hearing and faltering eyesight. And we miss her.


I only wish that my children and grandchild will remember and cherish their memories of their grandmothers- one whom they did not meet and the one they did. And that their  wisdom, generosity and compassion will live on through them.

"Badi Aunty" in 2009