The
golden words by Martin Luther King go thus:
"If you can't fly, run...
If you can't run, walk...
If you can't walk, crawl...
But, whatever you do,
Keep moving towards your goal."
She
never walked; but she crawled miles to protect, inspire and play with us.
She was a great mother to all of us.
As a child she was caught by polio and lost her mobility. She could
not even stand. Still, she surprised all of us, by taking care of us more
than any physically able person can.
She
applied lessons of freedom and love upon us. She said small things with in
our little world; but many of them had universal meanings and philosophies.
With the keen and sharp observation, way of opening eyes to the world around
us, feel for environment and over all the vast love, she guides me with
precious memories…
We generally start to respect woman from
our Mothers’. Mothers are the visible Goddess of our lives and the strong
pillars of our homes. Since birth, we experience them as the symbol of pure
love, immense tolerance, sheer optimism, unconditional care, unique
guidance, keen observation and many more virtues.
Grandma’s love and care is also an
evenly unique benefit in joint families.
I had my maternal Vallyamma,
my grandma’s one and only elder sister. She had been a great angel of love
for us, until her last breathe. She lived for her near and dear ones,
through out her life. She was a wonderful “Great Grandma” for all the beings
surrounded by her. Her love and care was a splendid experience to our kid
kingdom. Her reminiscence itself becomes nostalgia that lead to my ancestral
village home in Kerala.
She never walked; but she crawled
miles to protect, inspire and play with us. She was a great mother to all of
us.
As a child she was caught by polio and
lost her mobility. She could not even stand. Still, she surprised all of us,
by taking care of us more than any physically able person can.
For the growing kids, she was an amazing
heroine; an adorable one by all means. She lived a single and sublime life;
that we all wondered and admired along with her abilities. She had no higher
education. But her words were just like that of a learned person’s.
Her legs were crumpled and thin. But she
never appeared weak. She had good intellect, vision and was always filled
with ideas. She attracted kids far more than anybody in the household.
During the summer holidays, juicy
mangoes were plenty. As we pick and wash them, Grandma would slice it for
us, untiringly; with a smile on her face. She enjoyed feeding each and
everyone of our kid’s lot.
When mothers were engaged in busy
domestic chores, Grandma could manage all of us, that too all by herself.
In the monsoon days, as rain drops drain
through the watery courtyard, small frogs leap to and fro; ants try hard to
reach the shore. She used to say, “Look, how hard-working these small ants
are; pay attention to their efforts in life situations.”
In our courtyard small ants dig big
holes. The red soil spread out around the hole was significant of their
tough team work. All these small things were interesting to us as kids. They
remain as evergreen memories mainly because of timely inputs and comments
from Grandma.
Later, while I read an essay; “Go to
the ants”, I could realize the importance of hard work for success.
When heavy downpour occurs, she would be
waiting for us with a towel on her hand to wipe us warm, incase we get wet
running round the courtyard.
When lightning and thunder frightened
us, we would be safe under her caring hands. She would narrate golden
stories. She would be surrounded by a kid’s gang all through the rainy
nights. Her story would end only after we sleep deep.
When wild storm frightened us, she said
her prayers. She told, “We have no control over these natural powers. Our
duty is to pray well”. When heavy wind blew, we saw the sight of coconut
trees embrace each other wildly. We enjoyed these sights under Grandma’s
secure eye shot.
During story time she used to test our
comprehension ability and memory. She
used to fold her fingers one by one to test the time limit during question
time. Each time we would be gifted with small prizes. More than that, her
powerful hugs filled with her unique love, was the most precious
appreciation that we cherished and longed for, and continued to inspire us
for still better performance next time.
During those days, traditional methods
of cooking using oven were practiced. In spite of her physical handicap,
Grandma had her own style of cooking in the kitchen. Besides mincing
vegetables, she cooked small items on specially made traditional oven. The
item flavored with her deep love had a special taste of its own; which
lingers still with me.
In the dark nights fox made sound from
our neighboring vacant lands filled with small bushes. Grandma would torch a
light towards the fox gang and we could see the eyes of foxes glazing as
they moved away in silence. She became a heroine in those moments by helping
us shed off our fear, before we got a chance lest even to express it.
Grandma maintained a beautiful garden at
our ancestral home. She watered small
plants and looked after the flowers and plants just like she cared for us.
When butterflies fly around us she used to sing a song on them; praising its
beauty, color and vitality. She used to say: “Even though they are
short-lived they make us happy every moment. Their beauty soothes our
sight.”
When small calves strays and comes near,
she would catch it near her and massage it. The lovely calf enjoyed her
touch and care. She would ask us to get some green tender grass to feed it.
She showed us the method of water
conservation in its simplest way. During rainfall, she gathered water in
huge pots and used it for cleaning purpose. It was a basic lesson of rain
water harvest. Times have now changed. Water scarcity has become severe in
villages too. Now, people speak of water conservation, in a scientific
manner.
Small sparrows some times would come
inside the room through the open windows. When we tried to catch them and
plan to cage them in room; she used to say “Can’t you hear the cry of their
mother bird from the small tree near the window?” Those very words rush us
to the courtyard and watch out for the mother bird. While this time, the
little sparrows came out and joined their sweet mother with tricky whispers
and noisy chatter. At that time we clapped together in excitement to see
their delight. Later, I read a poem on freedom which says similar “Even if
the cage is made of gold, the confinement is
too severe!”
Grandma would
be in high vigor during festive occasions. Her child like passion instilled
so much of excitement into us making all celebrations all the more
memorable. She cautioned us for the need of using crackers safely with the
real life stories in past that was devolved upon. It was a basic lesson on
safety.
She taught us
team spirit and patience as she guided us through good floral
decorations during Onam festival.
At times of
Vishu, she gave small earthen coin boxes and introduced us to world of money
and the habit of thrift.
The
Niraputhari, they yam and traditional temple festivals were occasions where
she helped us realize the value of the contribution of our fellow beings,
the significance of dharma, charity and the worth of our connections to our
traditional roots.
Though it was
not at all compulsory for kids to fast on specific festivals, she could
transfer into our minds the importance of food and hunger, sacrifice, rites
and rituals.
Lessons of freedom and love had been
thus applied upon us. She said small things with in our little world; but
many of them had universal meanings and philosophies.
Grandma was our first informal teacher
in many ways. We learned from her how to love nature and care for all living
beings. She taught us the morals in epics and classics. She explained and
interpreted many ancient stories, in a simple child friendly manner, just
for us. We grasped many life philosophies from her words.
She facilitated in us a keen and sharp
observation, way of opening eyes to the world around us, a feel for
environment and over all the vast love. Eternally,
she guides me still with precious memories.
Dedicated to all
physically handicapped persons, world over, who in spite of their physical
limitation move mountains when ordinary people mumble on "limitations".
