AMMUMMA, THY SHALL REMAIN...

God’s own country, definitely, is one of the best places to be chosen for or spend vacation in. The scenic beauty engulfs us completely, taking us away from a city’s hustle-bustle, helping one to totally unwind. For those who love shrine-hopping, there are more than plenty and if you love simply staying indoors, enjoying the rain during monsoon, so be it (smiling ear to ear). These, for sure, are perfect reasons to rejoice and plan for the forthcoming vacation; but I always looked forward to summer holidays for one sole reason – it was to meet my ammumma (maternal grandma in malayalam) ! My vacation itinerary was simple - spending time with granny, crazily loving her and being loved 100 times more in return, clinging on to her and tagging along to wherever she went, listening to stories told by her and what not! My world narrowed down to just two people when I was with her – my ammumma and me!

It was a norm to go to my native and spend the entire two months of summer holidays at my grandparents’ place. Both my grandparents, and I and mom eagerly looked forward to it every year. I was the most attached to my grandma and loved spending every minute of those two months with her. Mom would take control over the kitchen, only to relieve grandma off her culinary duties and let her play with her granddaughter – ahem!...me! :-D  Well, let me be honest and confess that I would tear the kitchen down, shrieking and screaming if she would not accompany me to play. “Namakku molee poova ammumma, kalikyaan varu endeykoodey...ammumma vaaaaaaaaaaaa! (Let’s go upstairs granny, come and play with me)”, I would say this and stand in one corner of the dinning hall and refuse to budge until she came with me – the brat that I was! Then we would play with all the toys, my cooking set – where I would pluck leaves and flowers from our garden and serve the varied coloured food to her. I loved (and still do) listening to stories; so would run to my grandpa’s library and pull a book/novel and give it to my grandma, she would read it out to me. A book would last for 2-3 days at times.

The room upstairs, for me, was a room of mystery with so many things hidden inside the huge steel trunks and the many cupboards there. I remember vividly the day when my sister and I decided to secretly open all those trunks and cupboards and find out what were there in them. We found sacks of coins (so many that we were fed up counting the money and our hands started smelling of brass by the end of it), age old silver vessels, sandalwood and pure teak dolls, pearls, pieces of precious silk cloths and what not! They were our treasure boxes, we loved meddling with...ssshhhhhh....secretly though. The fun my sister and I used to have is worth remembering and something I miss immensely, even today [Deepthi chechi, I hope you’re reading thins and would agree with me :) ] We still talk of it at times and giggle away to glory. Nostalgia! But one thing I do not talk much of or haven’t shared with many is about my lovely days and minutes spent with my grandma.

We were 60 years apart in age :) but she perfectly knew how to be a child, when with one and time flew with all the fun we used to have, when we were together. Sometimes amma would join us and then, it used to be celebration time for the two mothers and the two daughters :) - we would tickle each other, sing together, play games, laugh out like mad, go out together, dress each other up with each other’s favourites, hog together at hotels, feed each other at home, visit shrines together, relatives’ places, I would swing on the swing with one of them feeding me and the other minding my swing, ammumma and amma would talk and I would cuddle in between them and listen keenly to all that they would discuss – our cute little world was, I bet, hundred times better than heaven! I was their ‘most precious’ as they would call me and they, mine!

I would hate it when summer vacations ended, not because I had to go to school, but because it would be time for me to leave my native...leave ammumma and go away ...

As a kid, I used to cry and so did my granny :( ... and as I grew, I wouldn’t cry in front of her, would hug her tightly and console her saying, “one year would simple fly away ammumma and I would be back the very 1^st day of my next summer holidays”. Saying this I would wave to her, get into the auto rickshaw, turn my face away from my parents and weep like a baby...

That year was no different; just like any other my summer vacation was the BEST set of days I could think of. When it was time to leave, I hugged granny and told her, “I would be here next year and be ready because next year when I leave, I am going to take you along with me to Bombay (we had shifted to Bombay then, from Chennai).” She would never agree to leave her den and come along ever (except for those 2-3 times when she’d come to Chennai and stayed with us, one among them being for an operation she underwent); but that year she said “yes” and my joy grew no bounds! I just couldn’t believe my ears! Having my granny with me was the best of things that could ever happen!! The following year I could not visit my native because of reasons that I feel are dumb to be given as excuses, however grave they were! We would talk over the phone for hours together and she would cutely wait next to the instrument on those particular days of the month and week set for the same. The last I remember speaking to her was on the 1^st of December, 2003. She fell ill somewhere around the 10^th. Mom was summoned to join my aunt in taking care of her. She asked me if I would go along – I refused saying “nothing would happen to her amma”. Seeing her in the hospital with an oxygen mask on wasn’t something that I could bear. I feared that sight. “She’ll be alright soon and I will come after that so that we can all get together and have fun like always”, I said. Amma flew down on the 15^th, in the 1^st flight at dawn. She was received by her cousins in Cochin who told her that their beloved aunt and her dear mom was dear to God by then. It was amid my 1^st lecture on that ill-fated Monday that my cell phone rang and it was my aunt’s number that flashed on it, repeatedly. Anxiety gripped me tight. I do not remember paying attention to the lecture thereafter. I ran out of the classroom to call my aunt back to find out why she called. My uncle attended the call to tell me my dear grandma was no more. I rushed back, grabbed my bag and ran out of the class. Rushed home and begged my dad to get me a ticket in the very next flight. It was peak vacation season and nothing was working in our favour – be it for me or for the other grand children across the country, who were all fanatically trying to reach our ancestral home to get one last glimpse of our beloved ammumma. Getting tickets in a train to Kerala from Bombay was a tough task even if planned in advance and this was on short notice! Hard Luck!  I finally got one, but not to be there for the cremation. We children were asked to be there for the rituals after the cremation, which we did. Ever since a child, I eagerly awaited the day I could fly alone, all by myself – which I did, but never enjoyed even a bit. I was flying down to participate in my granny’s post-cremation rituals. I was flying down to a house that would not have my ammumma in it anymore...

Those few days, dunno why, I never cried! But ever since...I do...every now and then...when I think of her...when I miss her loving hug, all the stories which I probably would have heard a 100 times repeatedly from her, yet loved it...when I see my mom’s eyes filled with tears at times when she sits in one corner pondering... and even now...as I write this blog...

It is a void that I sense, that can never be filled by any. When I look around these days, I can easily count the number of people who are selfless, generous, benevolent, are patient and who can love unconditionally – because it’s sparse. Dying traits, as I call them. The opposite are umpteen! Amid those who think solely of their joy and hurt others without even caring or realising what they do, who lack in character, morality or ethics, who have no gratitude towards benevolence and who do not respect others, their emotions, etc., I miss my ammumma and admire her a lot, for she’s lived her entire 76 years for the sake of others, serving others, taking care of others, causing no harm ever to none – one extreme case of selflessness, as I would call it! In a way, I am happy I wasn’t able to see her lying wrapped in a white cloth, motionless, post her death and before her cremation, because I am sure that sight would have affected me greatly and coming out of it completely would have been very difficult; it would have remained a haunting image all my life!

For now, when I close my eyes and think of her, I still remember the sweet smiling face of hers, the fun we had and all those golden moments spent with her...

In fond and loving memories of you, my dearest ammumma... thy shall remain... forever!