Amma3 mins 16.6K 3 mins 16.6K
Mummy or amma, as I fondly called her was the noblest soul on this earth. I say this not because she was my mother, but she truly was a very simple and noble creation of God. An epitome of serenity and innocence, Amma exuberated a warmth that encompassed her innate personality.
I talk about her in the past tense because she left us for her heavenly abode on the 26th day of September, 2002.
I still remember, as teenagers we would at times snap at her, hurling verbal remarks that are so typical of the teenage mood swings. Let alone reprimanding, she never raised her voice on us-never once she reiterated, rather she left calmly, making us wallow in self-guilt and introspect for our ignoble deeds-indeed an intelligent way of eliciting a subconscious response from us with an unremitting impact.
Amma’s eyes were a window of her unconditional love-her eyes mirrored the inner solace and tranquility that was an integral part of her lucid personality. A very quiet and submissive soul but the aura around her spoke volumes about her character.
A simpleton that Amma was, she never got into any back lashing, mud slinging or confrontation with anyone
(very unlike most of the womenfolk).
In fact, the most mundane things in life gave her immense pleasure. Her daily dose of gardening, her unintelligible talks with our pet rabbits- a sense of hilarious wonder for us, long walks in the nearby garden- a sense of acute fulfillment for her. These walks were the climax of all the day's activities and a constant in Amma's life. She craved for her daily walks and would get impulsively restless if her day wrapped up without one. It was a simple way of unwinding from the monotony of her daily routine. She rejoiced the company of green trees and the fresh flora. During these walks, her gait reflected the ecstasy and inquisitiveness of a five year old.
Amma was single minded in her devotion towards the house. Home was a hive of activity with Amma around. Almost daily, the sound of whistling pressure cooker, with an aroma of yummy beans woke us from our deep slumber. We were treated to delicious varieties of Indian breakfast- poha, idli sambhar, puri aaloo, aaloo paranthas, ajwain paranthas to name a few. It is nice to be cared for, but as kids we don't realise that our parents also yearn for some luxury and reciprocation.
Amma entertained people in a grand fashion and loved having them at our place. She offered them her meticulously prepared dishes with utmost care and affection. In fact, all my friends loved thronging at my place due to the simple reason that Amma would floor them with endless varieties from her kitchen. A few courageous ones even dared to ask me, "Are you really her daughter or an adopted one? There is no iota of sweetness or generosity in you that your mother so lavishly displays.” I was left strangely elated and sulking at the same time by their liberal dose of comments. Two emotionally different feelings, strangely linked.
With Amma, every festival was an extravagant affair.
So full of life she was that she rejoiced all the festivals with equal zest and fervour. Holi meant days of preparations gone by in rolling out palatable gujias, Diwali was characterised by creating intricate patterns of rangoli, makar sankranti had her dishing out sweets in various shapes and sizes which were finally sewn into a garland for us to wear and have fun with. Each ritual deeply rooted and celebrated with finesse.
Today when I look back, I sincerely wish that I should have been more expressive of my feelings for Amma, more generous with my actions, more courteous with my words, more lavish with my gifts.... Alas....Time and tide wait for no one. Ironically this was Amma's favourite proverb. Only if I could delve deeper into its meaning then.