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seema sharma dhakal

Abstract Inspirational Others


seema sharma dhakal

Abstract Inspirational Others

Amma's Treasure

Amma's Treasure

4 mins

At last, we had to bow down to her decision. Today Amma was going back to her village. Since morning she was busy packing her stuff.

I did not like Amma's decision of leaving us at all, but she was not ready to stay even for a day now. She was insisting on going to the village for the last 3/4 days.

Growing up in a nuclear family, I was excited about the joint family life of my inlaws.  

Since I have lost both my grandparents in my childhood, my husband's grandmother was nothing less than a joyous feeling for me.

She was a kind-hearted, lovely and religious lady. Soon she became a person who made me smile and helped me to get adjusted to the new home. 

For the last 20/25 years, she was living independently in a nearby village. Occasionally during summer vacations, or at some festivals, my husband's family would go to their native village. Sometimes she would come to the city.

Staying for more than one month after our marriage, she went to her village. Meanwhile, a good bonding developed between us. 

After almost 2/3 months I and my husband visited her place, those days she was not feeling well. Despite illness, amma used to cook various traditional dishes for us, especially for me, being newly married.

Amma proudly introduced me to the relatives in the village. I still remember the glow on her face.

Seeing her illness, we wanted to bring her along with us to Jammu, but she refused to come.

Upon our repeated requests, she agreed to accompany, on the promise that she would return as soon as she recovered.

But that day never came, day by day her condition was getting worse.

Often she insisted on going back to the village and expressed her desire to take her last breath in the village house, the house built by her husband i.e. our grandfather.

Seeing her health, no one was ready to accept this. Finally one day she told us, "At least bring my iron box from the village house."

My husband jokingly said, "Amma, what treasure are you hiding in that box?"

She murmured in a low voice, "Whatever was precious, I have already handed over to you, now the rest is mine, it's of no use to you."

And one day Amma's condition was very critical. She kept talking about bringing her box even in a subconscious state.

No one knew how much time she had left, and that terrified all of us. This woman was an idol of the family, she was a strong woman and an inspiration to everybody in the family. She also inspired me in many ways in a short period.

Seeing her condition we decided to bring her iron box from the village, it was hardly 4 hours journey.

By evening, before we reached back, Amma had left for the heavenly abode.

It's true we just weren’t expecting to come home to bad news like this, but we were not shocked because we knew she wasn’t doing that well for a few days.

Sitting next to her body, we opened her box. All the family members gathered around. Apart from some currency notes, some old clothes and some jewellery, there was also a large yellow handmade cotton sheet, with Ram written on its four corners.

Suddenly my mother-in-law remembered, a few years ago she had seen Amma weaving a cloth, with yellow thread on a spinning wheel(charkha).

She also remembered that Amma had sent that chadar through someone to Haridwar to be soaked in the holy water of GangaJii.

Actually, she has weaved that cotton chadar (shroud) to be used during her last journey. I don't know what would be the logic behind this, maybe she didn't want to put the burden of that on anyone or something else.

With wet eyes and folded hands, we all said the final goodbye to Amma, beautifully wrapped in that yellow shroud. 

Seeing the peace dawned on Amma's face, it was heartwarming that at least we have fulfilled her last wish.

A lady of principles, a pure soul, after finishing one journey, left for another with a silent promise to meet again, somewhere in the next, or next to the next voyage.

It was a great surprise to me, I have never seen someone weaving their shroud (kafan) during their lifetime. 

No one would have kept the treasure as carefully as Amma kept her shroud.

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