My parent got married when my father was well into the late 30s. My mother was somewhere in her late 20s. There was at least a gap of 10-12 years between them. I never knew what the age difference was because they were never keen on celebrating their birthdays so they never remembered their age. I assume from their talks was that he was 39-39 and she was 26-27. He was not the marrying type. He had a brother and a sister. He wanted to get his sister married first. His brother was already married She was the third child in the family with 6 children. He was a no-care person who knew no responsibilities. He would hand all his salary to his brother and then roam around with his friends. A lot of convincing from his friend did not prompt about thinking about his marriage. At 39, it was difficult to find a girl until mother came alone.
“He is just a worker”, my mom’s sister had said. “He does not look good.” another of her sister had said. But she saw something in dad which the rest of her sibling could not see. She agreed to him much to his amazement. His brother did not want him to get married to my mom. “She wear spectacles” “You have to listen to us” was his brother warning. He stood his ground this time. He had agreed to marry my mom and marry they did. It was a small affair, smaller than anything. Both were married because of the efforts of his cousins and her determination. Dad’s family was not so enthusiastic about the marriage. I guess that is why there is not a single photo of my parents wedding. My dad’s brother was opposed to the marriage but gave in to the wishes of other elders in the family. My dad’s brother, my uncle was the elder in the family and rules the family with an iron fist and sometimes even using physical force on dad.
When mom came to stay with dad after marriage, she was shocked how blindly my dad obeyed his brother and sister. Mom was the smart home manager in her father’s house. With no saving and no scope of progress in the family, my mom started saving for the future from the meager pocket money my dad kept with him even though he was the only earning member of the family. She suffered many taunts from my dad’s family just for dad’s sake.
A day came when things got out of hand and my uncle raised his hand on dad for an insignificant reason. He was nearing 40. That was the breaking point for mom. That day my parents walked out of the house. That day, life changed for all of us. Staying with my mom’s elder sister they moved out from there in a couple of days refusing to stay in her sister’s house. They moved to a small house in a slum for some days taking a loan from her elder sister and dad’s cousin sister. In addition dad had a loan to replay which he had taken for my uncle.
This entire time mom stood firmly behind dad, encouraging him and giving all the support he needed. Dad worked in the factory and mom brought work home using her sewing skills. My dad was not money-wise but mom sure is. She saved, invested and re-invested. I was born then and their responsibilities increased. Still both of them worked harder to give me a better living. In a year’s time, mom took the risk of buying a house on loan even when dad opposed it. He did not see the money coming but mom was like “jo hoga dekha jayega”. We moved to a new suburb in Mumbai, a bigger house and a better future. Slowly and steadily my parents repaid the entire loan. I was admitted in an English medium school even though the fees was very high according to our financial standard.
Some years later, mom convinced dad to buy a shop. She use to juggle me, home and shop at the same time standing firmly behind dad. Sometimes dad was so frustrated that he wanted to sell the shop but mom stood her ground and managed to convince him, sometime lovingly and sometimes sternly.
I had a good childhood. Not that there were many luxuries to boast of but mom made sure that we understand the value of money. We had seen our parents work hard and we knew that we had to work harder. All these years mom always had been the decision maker of the house. I had seen her supporting dad in every move and in every step and still caring for him like a small child attending his every need. I have seen her fighting, arguing with dad but in some way make him see the sense of logic.
We never were taught to show affection at home but we knew that our parents always loved us. The way she told us stories when me and my brother would sleep on both side. She used to defend us from our dad’s anger and at the same time defend dad against our teenage outburst. She is the glue that kept us together.
I guess she is the only one who more than perfectly understood my dad. She nurtured him, encouraged him and supported him all her life and at the same time she knew that dad would stand by her in all situation never letting her down. I guess she saw that when she married him even though everybody opposed their marriage. There is a saying that “Marriage is like a cart where husband and wife are the two wheels” I saw that in my parents both of them balancing each other. She was devastated when he passed away. All these years she was close to him more than any person on this earth. She was convinced that we, her children would one day leave but he would always be with her. A few days after he passed away, she was making rotis and giving me and my brother as the rotis were being made. Without thinking, she just passed the plate from the kitchen and said “Give this one to your dad”. The next moment she was in tears.
But after three years, she has stood up again. When I left India, I was worried about her and more for my brother. But she is a fighter and she has stood by me and not holding me back. I know she still misses dad. It is natural after all they were married for 26 years.
I hope one day I will be able to make her proud. Her and my dad, both of them. I may never tell her but she knows that I love her. She has always been my strength even though of the numerous problems we have faced between us. She will stand by me and my brother no matter what just like she stood behind dad.
Yesterday was Mother’s day and we never celebrated it. She does not even know that there is something like a Mother’s day. But here’s to you mom for always being there for me.
Aai! Happy Mother’s Day
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Aai* – Mother is called ‘Aai” (pronounced aa-ee) in Marathi.
Note – This is the my 250th Post. Nothing could be better topic than this.
hey ,
that was an awesome tribute to your mom.
That was too good Punds!
Mother’s always know what their kids think 🙂
After all, ” the hand that rocks the cradle, rules the world” 🙂
Punds, a befitting write-up for mother’s day. Thanks for sharing your story – beautifully illuminated by the light of life within it. My mother thinks Mother’s Day is a western phenomenon so I have never bothered to wish her on that particular day. It comes and goes like any other day and we are grateful to mothers everyday.
Exactly what Flower (Aria) said! Our culture is one of mother day is everyday (Ok I do fight with her sometimes!)
Your mom is an awesome lady!
vi
Biblo
Thanks a lot.
Ash
Yes! Mothers sure know thier children well.
Aria/Vi
Mother’s day is a wesetern phenomenon but the concept is good. One day reserved for Mom. But I guess Vi is right. Everyday fior us is Mother’s day.
Punds
What a lovely narrative! So simple, honest and touching.
Punds, eventually, do compile all your writings, make a pdf e-book out of it, and make it available for download, so that one read the entire collection in one’s spare time.
Punds, Thanks for your post on my blog. Yes, you rightly have said, where ever we live in Mumbai , we share the same nostalgia and there is so much of it. Call my mom Aai too.. What a beautiful narrative you have written. Truly touching , honest and from the heart. A good tribute to mothers who do So much.
Beautiful post, very touching. What a brave lady, and what a story!!
Atrakasya
Thanks again. I have to copy all my writings to a word file atleast just as a backup. But the number of post does not give me time.
Some day! I sure will copy.
Abodh
Thank you! Yes! Mothers are wonderful
Shruti
Thanks
Punds
that was such a beautiful post. honest and sooo touching. all of your blogs have that something in them which keeps ‘me’ and i suppose others too gripped to them till the end–keep blogging!
Catching up with your blogs. That was a wonderful tribute to a lovely, steadfast and strong lady.
Your mom “passing the plate to dad” – happens SO much when we lose a loved one, doesn’t it? I’ve found myself picking up the phone to call my father, to say that I miss him…….its been 2 months since he passed away. Happens.
Hey me aaj he vachale… khuup chaan vaatla… me nishabdha jhalo.
[…] My dad was not in favor of buying the current house. His income was not so much that he was not comfortable with a major investment. But my mother being what she is, was persistent. She convinced him to buy the house. 28 years back we moved to our present house. I have lived all my life in this house. Its not a big house but I have learnt to walk, run and live a life here. I had spent all my childhood here. A lot of memories are associated with this house. This was what our family of four called a home. […]
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Hi,
Awesome article. You know I just googled “aai marathi” And this was the first website that popped up.
[…] As I was writing one of my usual ” brilliant” post (?), a panic shout from mom in the […]
Kharach Dolyat pani ala article wachun. far chan lihilay.
Thanks
Amit