Amma

As the sun gently lifted its crown of golden red over the horizon, my thoughts wavered for a while before it sank deeper into an abyss. I could hardly feel the cool morning breeze lazily stroking my body in comfort, as I took a sip of green tea while sitting on my balcony.

'Amma'. The word kept repeating itself inside the crevices of my mind as I sat, unbelievably close, to an emotional breakdown. "She is no more." Just a four worded sentence that said and revealed everything. Everything that you did not want to hear or experience...the sudden turmoil of your emotions, your inner fears, the presence of a sudden loss enveloping your existence, the burst of tears, and whatever have you. But the permanent exit of a soul that had been part of your life over several decades is one reality that gets clearly defined by this four worded statement.

As I sat slowly sipping from my cup of green tea, I couldn't help but reminisce every moment I had spent with Amma. For starters, she was the most difficult human being to cope with! An absolute, 5ft 2 inch dynamite with a mighty short fuse!! There have been very few of us, which thankfully includes me and not Appa (in any small measure and a reason why he never grew beyond his 5ft 4 inch stature), that would have been spared the 'wrath' of this angel.

In one of Appa's most depressed (and battered) moments, he had asked me a question, "Imagine that someone had to make a beautiful payasam for you with the freshest of milk available, the best of dry fruits...almonds, cashew, raisins, cherries...and serve it to you on a clean banana leaf and in the first mouthful you would discover that instead of sugar, salt had been added...would you eat it?" And I had immediately retorted, "No way!!" And he said, "Most of the time, your Amma is like that payasam." And he then burst out in laughter tinged with a little sarcasm if I may say so!

Amma was a perfectionist and nobody else was. Amma was a 'either you do it or collapse' sort of an old 'tyrant' and none of us was. Amma was someone who would wake up earlier than the crack of dawn, cook, clean, wash, swab, even though she had a bevy of servants (with a high attrition rate!) to handle the job and none of us could. And at the end of the day, each servant would be adequately briefed of their incompetencies and then sent home with a stern warning to improve on performance from the next day onward. Amma's high levels of perfectionism, at times, bordered on plateaus of eccentricity and hence, even her brood were never spared!



Discipline was an all time priority where Amma was concerned. Each of her brood including her broods' broods had to undergo stiff 'Sermons on the Mount' that would have paled even Jesus Christ himself! And each sermon would end with a warning that could tame the wildest of lions on the face of this earth. Leave alone mere mortals existing around her, even her cows, dogs and the local milkman were never spared.


Amma's obsession with cleanliness through a much ridiculed (by her brood, of course) procedure was as passionate as Michael Angelo's passion for painting. Every article in her home had to be scrubbed to a shining existence...from the floors to the ceilings. Her probing eyes never missed a single speck of dust right from the entrance door handle to poor Appa's balding head! Everything had to glitter and glow.  Everything had to be stored in a very particular manner and God help those who even stored things a couple of inches from its designated location. Washed clothes had to be hung out in the sun in series wherein the smaller clothes had to be placed on the one side and the larger ones on the other (not surprising why the servants hid measuring tape around them when it came to drying clothes!). Every utensil in the kitchen (which was Amma's major fort of operation) had to be placed in such a manner that it evoked multiple passions in her to create amazing dishes...and Amma's cooking was just fabulous enough to beat any Australian Master Chef!!!

So Amma's brood was subjected to a life that harbored between ecstasy and the hangman's rope. And yet, Amma was Amma. Every one complained and yet everyone hovered around her, drawn towards her like moths to a lit lamp. No one took a step forward without consulting Amma. The day's menu was decided after discussing with Amma. Education, work opportunities, lifestyles, entertainment, health, buying of a new house, investing into the future...not a single step was taken without consulting with Amma. Amazing...because Amma never ever finished schooling in the small little village she hailed from in Palghat!!!



Amma was the epitome of commitment. She ensured the unity of the family stood strong even if she had to do it with an iron hand. She was open to criticism as long as it was constructive. God save the person who criticized for the heck of it...the whiplash of her wrath could freeze Hell over! In short, Amma could be both, the Beauty and the Beast...all rolled into one!!



Amma never tired. From the early hours of the morning, lighting the puja lamps amidst the soothing chants from the Vedas to the moment to warmly tuck back into bed, Amma was a war horse of activity tending to the needs of every family member with precision and intense love and commitment.

As the Sun rose above the horizon, I couldn't help thinking how much I would be missing Amma's variety of rasams, the delicious miracles she could churn out from her cooking pot...spiced just right, that wonderfully maintained garden where she would endlessly take me on a floral tour, the immaculately maintained home, the beautifully exhibited clothesline, the wonderful smell of jasmine, lilies and sandalwood every time I hugged her, combing her hair, helping her with her sari folds, telling her how beautiful and radiant she always looked, seeing that smile on her face...rare but always there, playfully pummeling her around the moment I perceived a calm before a storm...not allowing the storm to break out  and most of all yelling from the top of my voice,"AMMMMMMMAAAAAA, I LOOOOOVE YOUUUUU!!!!!"

And I realised that a Legend just passed away...back to the Universe where we all finally belong.

And yes, Appa, I would eat that payasam with the salt in it because it would always remind me of Amma. Everything that was put in it was original...right from the milk to the dry fruits including the banana leaf it was served on. The only thing that is never original in a payasam is the sugar (or in this case the 'salt') because its a by-product! And Amma was an ORIGINAL right from the core of her heart!!!

Like the dewdrops that slide down flowers and blades of grass to Mother Earth, a tear swelled out from behind my eyelid and rolled over my eyelashes finding its way close to my heart. I stood up and looked at the great ball of fire that had now begun to spread its warmth all around. And I stood tall and saluted...saluted to the Indian Woman and to Motherhood...so exclusively unique to our race!

Amma...