#Breakthebias Who Is Amu?- A Fictional Short Story By Madhavi Deshpande

DISCLAIMER

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events, and incidents in this Story are the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and unintentional.

"Amu……Amu….Amu…" spoke my 95-year-old mother-in-law, Durga.

It was almost a whisper. Spoken with a tremendous effort. By a 95-year-old mother-in-law, who from the past one year was suffering from dementia.

"Amu…..there….Amu……." she whispered again, pointing a shivering finger on the wall opposite her.

I, Mrs. Shobha Balakrishnan Swamy, 68, her eldest daughter-in-law, a retired school teacher, asked her with concern "Amu …Who is Amu....? Do you want me to call Amu?"

From the past few days, my mother-in-law was uttering only one word 'Amu' with a lot of passion and hope, all the while staring blankly at the wall in front of her, sometimes pointing at the wall with her shivering fingers.

"Does she want to meet Amu before …………….it is too late?" I asked my husband Balakrishnan or Bala as called by his entire family.

My husband, Bala, maintained a shocked silence for some time, before saying in a perplexed tone "If so, then who is Amu and where is she? For I will have to call her immediately…… Amma looks so weak….she is almost sinking……" eldest son Bala could not continue.

Despite his mother's advanced age, Bala now 73, a farmer by profession, was hoping against hope that his 95- year old mother will make it to 100 years! (Every child's dream actually!).

"Do you know any of her friends by the name Amu?" Balakrishnan asked his maternal cousin Ranka, 72, whose mother Kaveri now long dead, was his mother's younger sister and both had been very close to each other, almost inseparable.

Ranka had just arrived from Mangalore as he had heard that his mausi health was deteriorating.

"Amu…?" Ranka was lost in thought and finally announced that he had never heard of his mother speak about any common friend named Amu.

"Maybe Lalita knows about this Amu" Ranka added hopefully.

Lalita, 66, was Durga's daughter who had spent decades abroad, was going to arrive by evening.

Bala, the elder brother, a farmer, lived on the outskirts of Mangalore to manage their ancestral farm.

Vishwas, the younger brother, now 68, being more educated, a graduate, used to work and live in the city.

When Vishwas had first heard of his mother's failing health, he despite his own failing health, had rushed to their ancestral home where Bala lived with Amma, who had been staying there since her marriage, for around 75 years.

Bala, Vishwa and Lalita's father, or Appa, Govind Swamy, had died early, but peacefully having lived a simple, satisfying life.

Amma, 95, was the only person in the family who had enjoyed good health, so far, that is up to 94 years and had not suffered much from even old-age related problems and except for the bent back, she was fit and fine and the healthiest amongst the family, including her three children!

Amma had always had a gust for life, full faith in her good Karma and in herself, amazing strength in her hands and feet to do all types of physical work, and had been blessed with a sharp memory almost all her life, until dementia had taken over, from the last year.

No one had ever seen Amma taking any medicines or going to the hospital.

The only times in her life that she had been admitted to a hospital was when she was in labor and about to give birth.

Other than that, she had never been admitted to a hospital.

She was so strong both physically and mentally, that she had accompanied each of her three children to hospital where they had been later admitted for various old-age-related problems!

She had accompanied Lalita when Lalita was 62 years old and suffering from piles and diabetes.

She had accompanied Bala when he was 68 years old and had suffered a mild stroke.

She had accompanied Vishwas when he was 64 years old and had undergone a total knee replacement surgery.

Each of the three times, the three different specialist doctors, had mistaken Amma to be the patient when she was in fact the fit and fine mother accompanying her old ailing children! And each time, the three different specialist doctors, had smiled despite their very busy schedule and would forever remember this incident since it was both a funny and a happy incident, depending upon which way you look at it.

'A mother will always remain a mother, even if her children get old'. How true this thought was!

But from the past year, Amu had been bed-ridden due to old age and from the past few months, was suffering from dementia.

Her speech had become blurred, incoherent, she seemed to have lost sense of time, and her memory used to fluctuate to and fro so much so that at times she used to call out to her long-dead husband Govind and speak to him as if he was around!

Sometimes, she said to her husband, who was no longer around "Are you sure Lalita's in-laws are not going to take any dowry?" Bala and Vishwas had at that time looked at one other, a frown appearing on their forehead.

Bala and Vishwas had never been witness to this conversation between their parents but assumed that it must have taken place around 45 years ago, in the year 1975, when Lalita got married. But Amma was speaking as if it was 1975 now and she was discussing with her husband about their daughter's marriage and dowry.

Doctors had then told her sons that old people often remember decades-old incidents that have had a deep impact on their memory, like the marriage of a daughter, as if they are happening today. While they forget the other trivial incidences even if they had occurred recently.

Why only last month, Amma had been carrying inconsolably and Bala had to call Vishwas urgently. On prodding further, in between sobs, Amma had revealed in between loud wails that 'her mother had just died'.

Both brothers had looked at each other.

Amma's mother, their maternal grandmother, had died around 60 years ago. And Amma was crying inconsolably like a young girl, as if it had happened just a while ago!

Mukund, Bala's computer-graduate son, had then good-naturedly said "Looks like some files in Aaji's memory have got deleted. And she can recover only some files. Only files which are significant to her'.

It was true.

Some files in Amma's memory had been deleted, some damaged, some destroyed. This was a computer graduate's correct description of a dementia patient.

In another incident, Amma had asked "Has Bala come home? Is he still crying?" to Bala himself one day, when Bala was sitting right next to her. "I am so unfortunate that I could not send him to college" and saying so, Amma had started crying heartbrokenly.

This was her first incidence of dementia.

So Vishwas was called and Dr. Kumar was also called.

Vishwas and the doctor pointed out Bala who was standing right next to her, to Amma, saying "He has come back home. He is not angry with anyone. He has already forgiven you"

"Yes Amma, I am home. I am not angry with you. You are not to blame." consoled Bala, taking his Amma's wrinkled hand into his own hands which had also started wrinkling, now that he had become a grandfather!

Everyone knew that Amma was referring to that one incident when she and Bala had both cried together and Bala had left home in anger.

Bala had left his home in fury over some arguments, and Amma had searched for him like a wild, madwoman, running barefoot in the scorching heat without her chappals, throughout the small village, asking anyone and everyone she could get hold of "Have you seen my Bala, my Bala?"

That day was Vishwas's first day in college.

Bala, the eldest of siblings, could not study further since he had to take up farming and look after the family. But Bala had paid Vishwas college fees and thereby ensured that his younger brother Vishwas studied further.

Amma and Bala had bid goodbye to Vishwas who had to go to College in the big city.

After Vishwas had left, Bala had cried a lot and Amma had cried with him, all the while begging forgiveness from her elder son Bala who could not go to college since had to start earning at a very early age to support the family.

Bala, still full of frustration and anger and helplessness at not receiving the education that he desperately wanted, had left his house, in a fit of rage.

And Amma had searched for him like mad.

Now around 50 years later, this 'file' had suddenly popped up from her memory and Amma wanted to know if Bala had come back home!

She was also losing her sight, especially her near-sight, and could not recognize Bala even if he was sitting right next to her on her bed. After a lot of persuading, which lasted for a few hours, Amma finally accepted the fact that the person sitting next to her and holding her hand was her son Bala.

Then Amma had touched him, his face and had looked at him as if looking at him after many years (though he was living with her for the past 75 years) and had touched him as if touching a youngster, not taking in Bala's balding head and his white mustache. To Amma, the dementia patient that day, he was just her twenty-five-year-old son Bala, who was crying because he had missed his chance of getting a c

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ollege degree and Amma was crying too because she could not send him to college.

Another case of a significant deleted file popping up from memory!

'Amu…Amu…' said Amma again when her daughter Lalita and granddaughter Nysa (who had been born and brought up abroad) sat near her.

"Lalita, who is this Amu? Amma is calling her name from the past week," Bala and Vishwas asked their sister. They knew that Lalita had always shared a special bond with their mother and was the closest to Amma. So if anyone were to know about Amu, it had to be Lalita.

"Amu?" Lalita tried hard to think.

Amu… Amu…

But could not recall anyone called Amu………….

Amma seemed to have recognized Lalita instantly since she called Lalita 'Lali' the pet name by which only Amma used to call her. And Lalita and Bala and Vishwas had smiled. So their mother had recognized her Lali. Instantly.

Amma took Lalita's hand in hers and pointed to the wall facing her saying 'Amu …Amu…" with renewed despair and hope.

Everyone looked at the wall that Amma was facing.

It was an ordinary wall like any other wall of their huge ten-room Wada.

The walls of the other rooms had been painted and the entire house had been renovated just a year ago. Only Amma and Appa's room had not been touched since Amma was bed-ridden and Bala did not want to disturb her. He also knew that Amma did not like anything in her room to be changed or replaced or destroyed. "Not until I am alive" she used to say in a very clear and firm tone to Bala "There are many memories of your Appa and me in this room. I don't want to change anything."And everyone had understood.

It was Amma and Appa's room from day one, from their wedding night. No wonder she had a special fondness for this room! So none of the things in Amma's room, no matter how old and useless they were, could be replaced. Neither the noisy ceiling fan, nor the out–of–time grandpa clock, nor the grandpa chair, or the creaking wooden bed, or the table and broken chair or the old wooden cupboard.

Why was Amma pointing to the wall and saying 'Amu… Amu..' which contained only photos of male ancestors, the descendants of Swamy's three generations and moreover when there was no photo of any female member of Swamy's family, in three generations on the wall, so naturally there could be no photo of any 'Amu'?

Lalita, Bala, and Vishwas looked at the wall again.

For on the wall, were respectfully garlanded photos of their father Govind, their grandfather Anand and their great grandfather Nathu.

There was no photograph of any female ancestor, be it Govind's mother Laxmi or Govind's grandmother Damyanti. And anyway they were never called 'Amu' by anyone.

'Then who is this Amu that Amma is desperately speaking about?' all three children wondered, anguish written on their faces.

"Why are there no photographs of great-grandmother Laxmi and great-great-grandmother Damyanti on the wall?" Nysa, then five years old, had asked mom Lalita on her first trip to India.

"Photos of only male ancestors are supposed to be hanged on the wall" Lalita had replied simply to Nysa, without giving it much of a thought.

"But why only male and not females? " Nysa, the foreign-born and breed girl wanted to know.

"Shh!...." Lalita had silenced her sternly and ended the topic from her side.

But the topic had never quite ended for Nysa, who could sense that something was different in this house……….even grandma Amma's behavior towards her and towards her cousin brothers (Bala and Vishwas's sons) was different.

But could not put a finger on it.

She would always feel it but could never point out the difference that she always felt.

When Nysa looked at her ailing Aaji, she too was left wondering 'Who the hell was this Amu and why was Aaji pointing to the wall in front of her? For it contained only photographs of males. There was no possibility of any female, any Amu'

In the evening, Amma's nephew, Shiva, who was Amma's elder brother Narayan's son arrived from Madras.

Amma's brother Narayan had already died a few years ago and now his son Shiva was around Bala's age, around 75 years old.

Shiva had come to see his old bua.

Amma began hugging her nephew Shiva the moment he came near her, calling him "Narayan Anna… Narayan Anna….'

"I am not Narayan… I am his son Shiva" Shiva explained.

But he could not blame his old bua for mistaking him for his father, for he bore a startling resemblance to his father Narayan.

"How is bua? What do the doctors say?" nephew Shiva asked his cousins immediately.

"Amma is OK. Given her age, her health is good. But there is only one thing that is bothering us all. She keeps saying 'Amu …. Amu 'and points to the wall in front of her bed. We don't' know who this Amu is. Do you have any idea, Shiva? Maybe Amma wants to meet her once" asked the dutiful son, Bala, hopefully.

"Amu….Amu?" thought Shiva for a moment and suddenly his eyes brightened as he recalled a long-lost incidence between him and his father Narayan.

"Amu is Amrita….Amma's name, given to her by her mother. Her father did not approve of this name and named Amma 'Durga'. When she got married, her husband and your father, with full authority changed her name to Vijaya, because they did not like the name Durga. So her legal name after marriage became Vijaya, Mrs. Vijaya Govind Swamy" Shiva said.

Everyone was silent for a long time……….thinking……….pondering…..reminiscing…….deeply.

Finally, it was Bala, the eldest who was courageous enough to pick up the thread from there and speak up slowly "Then Amma came to be called by all possible names in her life but Amu…Like her parents' in-laws used to call her bahu, her husband used to call her Vijaya before my birth, and afterward, he also started calling her Amma, like his children. Her three brothers-in-law and two sisters-in-law used to call her 'Vahini', her brother-in-law's and sister-in-law's children used to call her Vijaya kaki or Vijay mami, depending on their relationship, her younger brothers and sisters used to call her Durga Tai and her maternal nephews and nieces used to call her either Durga mausi or Durga bua, depending on their relationship"

"No one except for her mother and elder brother Narayan used to call her Amu or Amrita." Shiva explained.

Now everyone understood who Amu was.

Amu was Amma herself!

"Then why is Amma calling out to herself?" Lalita asked, bewildered.

"And why is she always pointing at the wall in front of her bed?" Vishwas wondered aloud.

Bala, Vishwas, Lalita, Nysa, Shobha, Mukund, Shiva – all looked at the wall in front of her bed.

'Amu….Amu ….Amu' Amma was calling out again, pointing at the wall in front of her bed.

Everyone was silent for a while.

And then Nysa spoke, excitedly "I get it! She wants her photograph to be placed on the wall amongst all the photographs of three generations of Swamy"

Everyone now looked at Amu, who short of hearing, had been staring at the wall opposite her continuously for hours and had even smiled looking at it with a tinge of bitterness when she realized that, she, the woman who had toiled continuously, without a day's rest for this house and its people from the past 75 years or more, MAY NOT EVEN OCCUPY A SMALL PLACE on the wall in front of her after her death AND THAT THERE MIGHT NEVER BE EVEN A SINGLE PHOTO OF HER, AMONGST ALL THE PHOTOS OF ONLY MALE ANCESTORS!

For once, the members of the Swamy family realized the injustice and insensitivity that had done to the female members of their family from generations and mentally each of them vowed to correct this mistake, which had been going on……..from………generation to generation.

'Amu….Amu ….Amu' Amma was calling out again, pointing at the wall in front of her bed.

"And…….."Nysa continued, now fully understanding her grandmother's mind "She wants her photograph to also contain her maternal name 'Amu or Amrita' given to her with love by her mother, along with her martial name 'Mrs. Vijaya Govind Swamy……….. after her death".

Now everyone understood Amma's dilemma completely and noted that despite dementia, Amma's thinking was more logical and correct than theirs! 

Nysa then said bitterly "It is sad that many women in India still don't have an identity of their own. They are either someone's daughter or sister or wife or mother or grandmother and are called depending on their relationships with others or by their martial names rather than their maternal names'.

-------- A fictional short story written by Ms. Madhavi Deshpande, on Woman's Day, for Storymirror contest #BreakTheBias - to highlight a tradition carried out from generations to generations- of not hanging photos of female ancestors in homes and changing a girl's maiden name after her marriage, legally and with authority, with a single sweep and in a second, thereby completely wiping out her maiden identity.