Just Moms!

Just  Moms

Hi Rekha, me Snehal ...Snehal Chitale...Leela mavshi chi mulgi ( Leela auntie’s daughter)...Sion...K ing   George..athavle (remembered) ?

As I read the message on FB, years passed by in a flash and I walked down memory lane to my childhood days. Our house was away from the school and the school bus used to pick us ninety minutes early as it had to do two rounds before school time.  On the contrary, the travel time by car was just about twenty minutes and we could eat a proper meal before leaving for school. It was Leela mavshi  who volunteered to take the four of us to school.(her two daughters and we two, me and my kid sister Swati) Feeling grateful that she did save a lot of time for us then , I also realized that her act of kindness was all out of love as we never did return the favor either in cash or kind. And what was our qualification for this support? Just that we were her friends’ daughters. 

Thinking of the yore, I realized that my life has been showered with love from a lot of aunts. While my real aunts did plenty of good to me, it was more like being ‘entitled’ to it for being a part of the family although we were brought up in nuclear families. What amazes me now is that I received abundant love from aunts who were either my mother’s friends or my friends’ mothers. 

The first such loving figure was my third standard teacher Miss Parvati Iyer. She used to love me so much that many a times during the recess, she used to take me home for a hot Bournvita. Being a class teacher she taught us almost all the subjects and my love for her manifested in the form of writing such beautifully perfect exam papers that I stood first in class III. In fact it was the school policy not to give full marks for languages, then. My teacher took my answer sheet to the Head Master to seek his guidance where to deduct marks as it seems my essay also was word perfect. Neither before nor any time afterwards did I bag the first rank. Demonstrates the magic of power of love.

I don’t even know the names of my friends’ mothers. Each one was an ‘auntie’or ‘mavshi’  .Whether it was Hazel, Meenaxi, Kalpana, Meenal, Nimmi, Kajal or Mina …that did not matter…their mom was my auntie. Meenaxi’s mom used to treat us friends with idli chatni – staple food of South Indians. But the idlis were steamed in stainless steel glasses. Yet those tall mountains were very fluffy and light and that was the attraction. Kajal’s mom used to treat us with macher zhol – the best fish curry that I ever ate. All done with loving care. Lata mavshi needs a special mention as Somans was a second home for me and to this day I get the vibes of being a daughter of that house, too. The list of such kind acts is virtually unending. Grateful to all of them for having made my life colorful with joy and happiness. 

There is a saying in Marathi : Maay maro, mavshi jago!( Mother may die but Aunt should live) As a child I used to feel that there is no one as beautiful as my mother. So this saying sounded very absurd to my juvenile mind. Bizarre that it sounds, there is a lot of truth in it. The mother, many a times, with the responsibility to see that children have to be brought up with good manners and sanskars has sometimes to be firm or stern and deny some things to the children. At that tender age, unable to handle this pressure, they do need a soft spot and how nicely nature has made arrangement of ‘Aunt’. She fills their life with comfort when the comforting bosom is distanced. During the Gurukul times, the young children, away from their homes, were bestowed with motherly love by the Guru’s wife and so was lovingly called Gurumaa! Isn’t it?

Mother is the only person who knows you for ‘nine months’ more than any other person. And yet your soft moments are nurtured by aunts, who play angels, to keep you afloat in your difficult moments. Reminds me of those days when I used to get harried by the high energetic son of mine and used to complain to my sister. Her standing invitation was – ‘If you can’t manage him, I will adopt him but don’t complain.’ Used to keep me in harness for the fear of losing my son to her…ha ha ha. 

It is said that don’t see Guru as a human being but recognize the Gurutatva or element in a person. In retrospect I think ‘Aunt’ too is an element, carefully dispersed by nature among women folk as a back-up to moms. Just the right fall back when moms become ‘Just’ moms and not just moms. 

Anagha Hunnurkar

January 29, 2012

Ashes

Ashes

Leaving the temple precincts, as I was applying the Vibhuti on little Disha’s forehead, she asked me innocently –Auntie, what is this?  ‘This is Vibhuti, my child , which is applied on the forehead and on the neck near the throat . We also place a wee bit of it on the tongue as a Prasad and remembrance of the Lord.’ Wondering whether I was really able to satisfy her enthusiastic passion to learn new things around her, I set pondering on the subject while Disha merrily forgot all about it, no sooner did she spot her friends playing in the park just opposite the temple. While Disha joined them, I sat on a nearby bench.

Vibhuti – a scared ritual is nothing but applying the ashes. Ashes – the residue of burning. And it does not matter whether the ashes are from burning of firewood in the kitchen, or from a smoldering Yagya or even of the burning pyre on the cremation grounds- it is the same fine grey powdery stuff. Ashes have long been applied by Hindu sadhus and ascetics to protect them from cold and are a regular site at any of the places of pilgrimage. Perhaps that is the reason that ash is also known as Rakh or Raksha (protect)

We all know that most of our traditions are etched in symbolic rituals and ashes do symbolize that dust is the final truth. But what is most striking about the ashes is that it never decomposes or decays.  Does it then signify eternity and a symbol of the Supreme? Suddenly it struck me that ash is also known as Bhasma (an acronym for ‘Bhagwan’ –God and ‘smaran’ – remembrance). Disha’s innocent question had turned out to be a thought churning process.

Then there is cigarette ash – a cause for the multi billion dollar ‘ash tray’ industry. Holy smoke! God save mankind from this terrible menace. Amen!

As the mind meanders, my thoughts went to Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Reminded me of some of my Catholic friends who used to sport the ‘ash cross’ on the forehead, on this day. I had a friend called Hazel. I had asked her about it and she had told me then that the priest used to say: You are dust and shall return to dust. Sounds morbid today - a quiet reminder that life is ticking away, bit by bit. However, not understanding a word of it then, we both used to giggle as Hazel was great at caricatures and her miming of the priest was awesome. Yet today when I sat on the park bench, the reality of life (and death) struck me like a lightening. The symbolic meaning of ash was in fact the same across human race irrespective of which religion each followed.

Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru had willed that his ashes be strewn across the Himalayas: ‘You are dust and shall return to dust.’ Immersing the ashes of the departed in holy rivers is a tradition followed by Hindus to this day and is considered to pave the way for the journey of the departed soul.

So does ash symbolize death? Man, who lives on eternal hope thinks differently. In belief of constant creation emerges the mythological Phoenix, known to rise out of the ashes and a constant reminder of life after death – a song of hope and ‘never say die’ spirit of mankind.

Anagha Hunnurkar
January 22, 2012