We Didn't Have A Legacy

I'm the mother of three doctors. I'm the wife of a hardworking man. I'm a tribal from the Urala community of Kochi. I'm Pushpa, from Kerala.

Right now, I'm standing in front of the camera with my family. The 'Times of India' journalists are asking for our story.

Years ago it seemed the light of the sun would never reach us through the thick forest canopy. We lived away from the city, in the forest, listening to the occasional trumpets of the elephants. But today we can see the sun burning bright, the sky is blue and clear.

I remember standing at the entry of our small bamboo hut, waving at my eldest son Pradeep, as my husband Raghavan carried him off to the school on his back.

I remember praying for Surya while she was sick with chickenpox during her SSLC examinations. I remember hugging her tight with tears in my eyes when she scored A+ in all of her exams.  

I remember watching Sandeep huddled on the cold floor with textbooks, asking doubts to his older brother and sister.  

One of them is a homeopathy doctor, the other an allopathy doctor and the third is an ayurvedic doctor. All of my children succeeded in giving life to their dreams. They're working among other tribal communities, inspiring them, helping them.

I look at the camera and smile.

We didn't have a legacy, we didn't have a history, but that didn't stop us from writing our own story.