Saturday, April 4, 2009

PUNJAB

Ramnavami is a Hindu festival commemorating the birth of Lord Rama, a human incarnation of Lord Vishnu the sustainer of the world. On the festive occasion of Ramnavami like any other office goer enjoying the holiday relaxing over a cup of tea and newspaper, my eyes caught the brutal picture of two men pinning down a 17-year-old girl to the ground and let a man mercilessly flog her. According to the news in the Taliban occupied Svat province of  Pakistan the girl was flogged for two minutes by the Taliban along with her brothers they saw her with a man who was not her husband! It reminded me of Sita, wife of Lord Rama, who too proved her chastity to her husband, Lord Rama through the “Fire Test" (Agni Pariksha). I am not a feminist, but the news really stirred my soul and made me wonder, are we progressing or regressing as humankind?
I picked up the bookmark I had received from Ramakrishna Mission and these quotes of Swami Vivekananda are on its two sides: “No chance for the welfare of the world unless the condition of women is improved”. On the other side, is the quote, “Faith, faith, faith in ourselves, faith in God – this is the secret of greatness.” How apt both the axioms are to the events I have mentioned. We can trust others only when we trust and have faith in ourselves as an integral part of the Divinity. All beings, including man and woman, are manifestations of the Divine, who is both the creator and creation of the Cosmos. The way we ill-treat earth, similarly we ill-treat women and all the beings who are weaker than us.
 I am specifically mentioning the women, because a woman, who is also a mother, is the first teacher of a child. She acquaints the child to with the environment and its surroundings. She introduces the child to the world.
I intend to share my respect for five women, whose love and wisdom flowed like the five rivers of Punjab. They have contributed in moulding me into the individual I am today:

  • My maternal Grandmother: She is from Punjab and even today she is a pillar of strength. It is she who has helped me to understand what self-discipline, self-righteousness and integrity mean: In my childhood, I used to wake up with her in the wee hours of the morning. I used to pick flowers from the garden to offer with the morning prayers. I used to help her bathe the idols of God, prepare God’s breakfast and then sit down with her to browse through the holy books admiring the colourful pictures and reading some of the simple text while patiently waiting for her to offer breakfast to God so that I could then relish the acknowledged offerings as “Prasad”.
  • One day, she dressed me in one of my good dresses and took me to merge with the crowd gathered alongside the road that the Late Prime Minister, Mrs Indira Gandhi’s official motorcade was to travel by. We, fortunately, were standing in the front row and I was too young to realise that I was about to see a woman, who will remain a stalwart in Indian politics. history I was literally clinging to my Grandmother’s arm when Mrs Gandhi’s open jeep slowed down in front of us and I saw a woman who looked quite fair, medium built like my Grandmother and she wore a full sleeve blouse with cream printed silk sari. She was standing in the jeep and waving to the crowd. The vehicle was full of bouquets of flowers she must have received during her official visit. She suddenly bent down and picked up a bouquet and flung it at me. I was awestruck by her gesture and remained on my Grandmother’s arm, while a girl standing beside me quickly picked up the bouquet and triumphantly waved it at Mrs Gandhi. I expected my Grandmother to chide me for behaving like a dumb child but was surprised to see her pat my head and take me to the nearest bookstall to buy me my favourite children’s magazine: “Chandamama”, which is still published in Chennai (then Madras).
(Frankly: I have always preferred to admire the flowers on the plants and not in the form of a bouquet!)
  • ÿ My paternal Grand Aunt (My Father’s Maternal Aunt): She personified feminity, genteel demeanour and affection. I seldom saw her lose her cool with anyone. In spite of her frail health, she tended to her family of seven and kept herself busy concocting pickles and chutneys that we used to pinch from the storeroom and relish during long summer afternoons. She always used to smile and say that these tidbits were meant to be pinched and eaten by children as it assuaged a child’s heart’s desire for adventure and fun – imagining ourselves as treasure hunters while creeping into the storeroom to unearth the booty she had stowed away for us!
  • She had a terrace garden and she used to tend to the plants like her own children. She used to narrate the progress made by each and every plant and flower from the time of my last visit to her house. She had even named some of the plants and herbs in her garden. I used to stand with her on the balcony of her house in Calcutta and admire the different kinds of vehicles plying on the road in front of her house and it is through them and their license plates she taught me to recognize colours, also English alphabets and numbers. She was a chronic asthma patient and this physical indisposition made her sombrely identify herself with the caged parrots in her house. She used to treat them with love and care and taught them to say “Ram, Ram”. She was from Keshab Chandra Sen’s family and in her childhood, her Mother tutored her on meaningful and melodious religious songs and she used to often quote them to help one wisely analyse a difficult situation.
  • During my Higher Secondary Exams, which I preferred to appear from her home, she used to bathe and offer daily morning prayers and then perform a small prayer to bless me to successfully appear in the tests. On the eve of my Botany test, she suffered from a terrible bout of asthma and in spite of her ill health, she got up in the morning, bathed herself and offered a prayer for me. I was so moved by her sincerity in my wellbeing that it built up my confidence to appear for the practical exams on that day.
  • My paternal Grand Aunt (My Father’s Paternal Aunt): She was a pragmatist and a rationalist. She always preferred to call a spade a spade, however much it may disturb the other person. She single-handedly managed the household due to my Late Grand Uncle’s ill health. She introduced me to the rural life of Bengal and its unique pristine beauty both before and during our visit to my Father’s ancestral village. She acquainted me to the simplicities of village life and showed me how vegetables were cultivated in the fields. She was a knowledgeable and well-read woman who introduced me to the Bengali idioms and folk tales. I used to enjoy her tongue-in-cheek humour and the way she used to dole out the slap-sticks on the idiosyncrasies of Bengali men and women. She had good knowledge of herbal remedies too.
  • One day, during my visit to her house in Salt Lake (Calcutta, West Bengal), she made me sit beside her on the balcony overlooking a square. She winked at me and said, “Today is Sunday and during the day you will see this square bustling with life. You will see the Bengali gentry visit the fishmongers and the vegetable vendors positioned on either side of the square. Just sit back and relax and enjoy their conversation with each other and the vendors, that will give you a glimpse of the Sunday life in Bengali household and the Bengali housewives, who staunchly believe that the way to their husband’s heart is through his stomach and the poor husband weighing his pocket to find his way to his wife’s heart! After the colourful sights and sounds, you can enjoy the aroma of delicacies wafting from the locality, all from this very place! Just wait and watch....”
  • T. K. Bose Uncle’s Mother (I called her my Paternal Grandmother): Mr T.K. Bose was my Father’s colleague in Titagarh Paper Mills and we were neighbours too in Paper Mill’s Staff Colony. Grandma used to live in Calcutta while we resided in its suburbs. I remember her as a petite woman dressed in white with a string of beads around her neck. She had a serene countenance and a very mild demeanour. The first time I met her was when I was collecting flowers from the ground. She approached me and asked me “Maa (In Bengali culture, a young girl is lovingly addressed as “Maa, meaning ‘Mother’), can you too give me some flowers for worship the way you collect for your Grandma”. I happily agreed to comply with her wish and we became good friends. One evening I introduced her to my friends, the other children of my age group, from other households in the staff colony. We all sat beside her and she narrated an experience Ananda Mayee Maa’s Ashram: “Ananda Mayee Maa used to have an orange every day and one day, to test her credibility and her faith in herself and God, more than twenty of her disciples visited her one by one and asked her for one section of the orange and she did not refuse anyone of them. No sooner had we heard the narration, we fired our fusillade of questions to find out whether Ananda Mayee Maa was a magician, whether she used a knife to cut the orange into small pieces and used whatever reasoning we could garner to disprove the credibility of the noble soul she revered.
  • One evening, after the storytelling session, we joined her in a singing session. We wanted to collect Mexican Oleander, Plumeria and Crape Jasmine flowers lying on the ground of the common garden area of the staff colony. We collected the flowers and washed them with care, and then we pranced behind her to the small temple beside the Main gate of the staff colony. The small temple had three grey and black stones in the name of Shiva Linga. We all got along with our Grandmother to clean the otherwise deserted Shiva temple which stood guard at the Watch post (A small shelter for the Security Guard) and decorated it with flowers allowing our aesthetic sense to run riot in decorating the temple as well as the Shiva Lingas. She then asked us to fold our hands and sing the three hymns she then taught us to sing:
1. “Raghu Pati Raghav Raja Ram Patit Pavan Sita Ram. Ishwar Allah tero naam Sabko Sammati De Bhagwan” (This means: Lord you go by many forms and names but please bestow wisdom on everyone.)
2. “Vaishnav jan ko Tene  Kahiye ne Pir Parai Janey rey” (This means: Please tell even those who think they are wise to empathise and feel the pain of others too.)
3. “Ho oe koromeytey bir, ho oe dhoromey te dhir, ho oe unnotoshil nahi bhoyey...” (This means: Be bold in your action, be patient and steadfast in your faith, and be progressive and fearless...)
Now I realise how true and meaningful these hymns are.
  • Ananda Da’s Maternal Grandmother (Called her my Paternal Grandmother): Ananda Da is more my brother than he is the son of my Father’s colleague in Titagarh Paper Mills. The first time I met her was in her house in Calcutta and I found her to be a soft-spoken and caring Mother as well as Grandmother. No sooner had she welcomed us in her house, she got busy trying to prepare eatables that she could serve us during our visit and very interestingly portrayed her mundane existence to us. I used to make it a point to meet her whenever she visited Ananda Da’s house because I enjoyed her fussing over me and treating me to all the eatables and food she cooked for Ananda Da. She appeared quite fragile, always worried about her Grandson but she didn't fuss over him. She was full of stories and anecdotes and I enjoyed listening to her. She lived her dreams and life through her Grandson without imposing her hopes and aspirations on him. She preferred herbal remedies to medicines prescribed by the doctors.
  • The day Ananda Da’s school Final Results were announced and I learnt of his brilliant results. Out of sheer joy, I rushed to his house and hugged him with a big yell of congratulations only to realise that Grand Ma was looking at us and would disapprove of such a blatant demonstration of joy. To my sheer amazement, she came and patted on my head and said that I had truly exhibited euphoria a blood sister would. True, a relationship of the heart is greater than the blood relationship.

All five grandmothers were blessed with a loving heart and their love has flowed as freely as any of the five rivers of Punjab. White was the colour of their life, but they did teach me the colours of life and explained to me what life really means. All of them used to advise me on herbal remedies for any ailment therefore, this write-up is dedicated to them.

Life