A Mother All Over Again

Ajji was a young mother at 19 - not considered young back then in the 50’s. Amma was her first born, premature and by most of the stories I have heard ugly. Ajji tells me that once a friend came to visit them, saw their baby and said, “You make such a handsome couple, and I expected your baby to be beautiful!” Ajji says that it did hurt, but well my baby was not good looking.

Things didn’t remain this way long. Amma grew up to be a beautiful girl and a centre of affection for many men. In 1975, amma fell in love and five years later my parents wed and moved to Muscat. Ajji had not expected the distance to be so far and I’ve heard stories of amma and ajji bawling their eyes out as amma left to being her journey as a married woman.

Amma was a mother at 23. Ajji was a grandmother at 42.

As a kid, I adored ajji – she was my most favorite person in the world. Leaving her in Mysore was the hardest thing at the end of every summer vacation. I guess that is why in the summer of 94 it was not a hard decision to make when I decided to stay on in Mysore and pursue my studies staying with ajji and thatha.

It was difficult not to be with appa, amma and Varsha. I mean I was only 12 years old. But the change was made easier as I was going to live with ajji and thatha.

I recall some of my friends saying how do you live with your grandparents? Are they cool to live with? And I always wondered how can you not live with them? Thatha is a Physics professor. He is a progressive thinker and not once did I feel a generation gap. Ajji is less educated, but I think this was not a handicap thanks to thatha.

Ajji was my mother through my most formative years – from 12 to 21. In no way am I disregarding thatha’s contribution in these years; he was my companion for classic English movies and the masala Hindi movies; he took me out to eat pizza – back then it was available in just one restaurant in Mysore; he guided me with my studies and discussed literature with me. He had a big hand in shaping a part of the woman I have grown up to be.

But, ajji became a mother all over again at 54.

She listened to my stories through school and then college. She relentlessly watched cookery shows on Udaya TV to make me something special – sometimes successful, sometimes not. She pampered me with gifts for festivals. She narrated stories of the Tamil movie she had watched on Sun TV. She guided me through my various ‘girl-issues’ during adolescence.

I remember this one time; she was on her way to her brother’s house. It was on my way to college. I offered to drop her, but ajji was conscious of her weight and refused. But I insisted anyways, “Ajji, I will take you safely don’t worry. You never sit with me on my Scooty.”

So she sat on my Scooty for the first time. I was extra careful. Balancing ajji was hard. But I managed. I managed most of the way, till someone from the cross road hit my bike and just like that ajji was off her seat. I remember rushing to her, seeing her holding her arm wincing in pain and then almost getting violent with the rash rider. But I did not. Ajji needed me. I rushed to the hospital. Her face cringed every time the auto went into a ditch and every time my heart ached.

After the X-rays and ECGs and some other tests, the doctors told us that her bones in her arm had broken and needed to be put in place through a surgery. I felt tremendous guilt for putting ajji through this. Post surgery, ajji could not lift weights, needed help to bathe, put on her clothes. It hurt me to see her in that situation. I blamed myself.

I don’t remember sitting down with ajji, saying how sorry I was, how guilty I felt. I could not express what I felt in words and ajji…I think she knew how I felt. Ajji recovered over 6 months. It took time. I remember amma coming down to help out.

I moved out of Mysore after college to work in Bangalore. Ajji would make it a point to call me on the land line at ten every night to ensure I was at home. This later changed to alternate days and slowly to once or twice a week.

It’s been 7 years since I moved out. But even today she is my help line when it comes to cooking, matters of the household and so many other things. I probably will never get a chance to say this to her, but I thank her for becoming a mother again, for guiding me, for hugging me when I missed my parents, for sitting up with me to watch TV serials (which we’d later discuss).

Ajji is still my most favorite person in the world.