The time her mother conceived, an astrologer supposedly
stated that the child was destined to grow up in a new house. Hearing this my grandmother’s father set up
on construction of a house three stories high, with 6 bedrooms of varying
sizes, a large kitchen, a dining hall and a massive living room.
My mother was the first of five children born to A K
Padmavathyamma and M Karunakaran
Nair. She was delivered (March 16, 1944)
at home. The new born was supposedly so
cute and perfect that my mother’s uncle Gopi Nair exclaimed – muthe matheri
ende (looks like a pearl).
From that day my mother’s nickname became Muthu and Savithiri
was her name for the school certificates and so on. My mother’s brother followed in quick
succession which meant that she didn't get too much attention as a baby. From being told by her grandmother she used
to proudly tell me of how she used to sleep in between her grandparents. Her grandparents A K Nanikuttyamma and M Pangunni Nair had two other children other
than Padmavathyamma (Pappa). My mother’s
grandfather was a very strict and respected man but was the one who used to
change her nappies and always loved to carry her around.
She grew quickly and was called thotti kale (long legged) by
her granddad. She was a dear child for
her grandparents and under them she bloomed.
Her grandmother was very pious, had strong traditional believes and
values. My mother picked up all of this
from her and was always the butt of jokes by her siblings for all the fasts and
prayers she undertook.
Her primary education was at a school 5 Kms away from
home. Given a chance to talk about it
she would recollect the adventures she and her friends used to have on their
way to and back from school. There was a
large group of children who undertook the 5 Km walk. They would all meet at a common point and in
groups start the walk. When someone or a
few used to be late those who decided to leave would place a leaf with a stone
on it to inform that a group has already left. Some would join them midway and the walk
continued. She used to talk about how
people used to ask her about her grandparents and if she wanted to eat or
drink. She used to say that in those
days no one would think of hurting a child and she doesn't remember of any such
instance unlike what it is now. There
was so much trust and oneness irrespective of caste, creed or social strata.
The school she went to was called KPRP High
School at Kongad. It was built by a man who didn't
want his only daughter to go too far from home for her schooling. Every time we used to pass by the school my
mother would point out the classrooms she had been in.
Her high school studies was at the Moyen’s High School in
Palaghat (it is now called Palakkad).
She didn’t get through the 10th standard and didn’t continue her
studies. She stayed at home spending invaluable
hours, days, years in the company of her grandparents, parents, siblings and
cousins. Having grown up in a joint
family and being among the eldest of her generation she cared not only for her
own siblings but also for her cousins and relatives. Caring for others came naturally to her and
she did so selflessly.
Around the time she turned 19 years of age her grandfather
passed away leaving a void which she found very difficult to fill. Within a year or so of the death alliances
were sought and she married the man who went on to be my father, Thoniyil Muralidara Menon.
My father was a self made man. After completing his 10th at his
village school in Trichur he completed his further studies in Calcutta
attending evening classes. He did
various jobs to support his education.
At the time of discussing the alliance he was a young handsome man who
had seen the world and knew a lot more than what other youth of the time from
this part of the world would have. My
mother was the typical lady who had grown up in a village and the only town she
had been to was Palaghat.
Post marriage my mother found herself in the grand city of Calcutta and met the friends of my father (including his
old girl friends!). She used to tell me
that some young women in the neighborhood gave her nasty looks when she walked
along with her man.
My dad was a serial job hopper. Thanks to this nature of his my mom saw
almost all parts of India. Delhi, Bombay
and other places. She spoke once in a
while about how difficult it was to understand the languages and the different
cultures.
She and dad were never apart for too long. She joined him in Dubai a year or two after
he went in 1973 or 74. I don’t remember
exactly when my mother left to join him but I still remember waking up in a
very strange bed next to my sister. Upon
asking for mother my sister asked me if I could hear the whistle of a
train. I said yes and she said our
mother left in it to be with father.
She and dad came to see us within a year. I was very angry at her for having left me
and I think I said so in no uncertain terms.
I don’t know if it was pity, the poor state of my studies or my health…
I was taken to Dubai soon afterwards.
The time we spent there was among the best years of our lives. As with everything this changed as well.
Years passed by, father passed away and my mother was like without her shadow. How she pulled
through I don’t know but she did. She
got a home of her own, lived her life as she wanted to. The independence did not last too long. Her health declined and she had to be
hospitalized on number of occasions. Her
self-belief and confidence started to fade away. Finally on March 13, 2015 she ended her
journey.
Like all humans she had her faults but I don’t think it was
ever her intention to hurt anyone. She lived
well and died peacefully. Like many
others and as is our wont I wish I had done some things differently. Small things like telling her once in a while
that I love her, giving her a kiss, a hug.
I wish I had more conversations with her. She may have been happier.
