My tooth has
been aching since the last few days. The dentist suspecting an infection of the
leftmost molar prescribed an antibiotic and said if the pain doesn’t subside in
the next 3 days, we would prefer an extraction. What else do I need than a “Mumbai
Rain” drenched Saturday morning with a tooth ache, alone at home to ride the
Doraemon’s time machine and travel back in time?
I met her for
the first time about 21 years back. A flamboyant Delhiite lady draped in light
green color kancheevaram saree with a handbag along with her husband had
visited our home in a small town in Kerala. She was suave and loquacious and
lovingly accepted by our clan into the family. She would soon be the Mother
in Law to my only sister. Her only son, soon to be my Brother in Law lovingly
call he “Mummy”. In our neighborhood, we addressed our mothers as “Amma” and the
word “Mummy” was little strange though not unknown.
She loved to
talk and whenever and wherever we met all these years, I used to sit beside her
and listen to her stories. Originally from a joint family near our place in
Kochi, she was married at a young age to a banker, widely travelled and stayed all
over India particularly the north. Obviously, she had lots of stories to tell right
from her childhood, family and of course her sojourns over the years. She was inspiring
and we were always at an awe listening to her.
I was her son and
at times a younger brother. It was a unique relationship that we shared. She
used to call me by my first name and at times “Sanna”, a name uniquely reserved
by my sister. Sometimes I used to call her mummy, at times “mayi” which in our
mother tongue meant aunty. When our children were born, along with them we all
used to call her “bapami” meaning grandmother. Of course, when the basis of a
relationship is love and affection what is there in a name?
She loved
inviting people to their house. She was an excellent cook who loved to treat
whosoever came her way. She prepared the cuisines of north to south, east to
west and had those magical fingers that made any dish a delicacy. I always had
the privilege of having those namkeens, the crispy chaklis, the chivdas and
laddoos which she exclusively prepared for me whenever I visited her in Delhi or
sent through anyone in the family who visited us in Mumbai.
The rain has
subsided. My time machine has reversed its gears and is back to Mumbai. It is
not travelling forward anymore. I would miss her. My tooth is still aching. I don’t
mind an extraction of the molar for why do I need it anymore for Mummy is no
more there to prepare those tasty Chaklis!!