To Amma and Achan, With Love

Born as the first kid to a couple is a BIG, GRAND thing. Or that’s what I wish to believe. It becomes even more significant when you are born on your mother’s birthday. Yes, I am the blessed child who as my Mom describes is the best birthday gift she has ever received.

Look that’s why I call myself God’s Own Child. I am Happy. 🙂

A Daughter, that makes me the dearest to my Dad. Both of us have a friend-cum-critic for life now. Cradled in the comfort of my Mom’s love and care and being my Dad’s pride, life was bliss.

After 4 years, my parents had their second baby, again a Girl (my wish to have a sister was granted). Lots of fights, hide-and-seek, peek-a-boo, ghar-ghar, differences of opinion, sibling rivalry and a sweet soul to confide in. That’s what Renu is for me. Love you lots. 🙂

Mom gets busy handling both of us together along with the additional members we used to have in our family. We used to have one or the other members (our Chacha, Cousin Bros, Mama, Mausi and her son) with us almost all the time. All this plus the burden of exam papers and class preparations owing to her job as a Teacher. Hats off to her patience and perseverence. Its just the beginning.

My Dad used to work for a private firm, apart from which he also used to take up freelance assignments that he used to finish working late into the night (I have heard the typewriter keys going up and down around 3 am sometimes). After this, he even used to help my Mom dress me up for school in the morning. Such a wonderful couple, isn’t it? In the evenings, I could make out his Bajaj scooter arriving. I used to be there at the garage before he reached. He used to listen to all my chitter-chatter without getting irritated even once. A complete morning-to-evening update I used to give him at the garage before he finally got into the house. 🙂

When I was five something and my sis not even two, one fine morning (around 4am) I find myself standing in the driveway of our building along with my parents and few neighbours. My Dad was kissing and hugging me tightly, saying,

“Guddu, I’ll be back soon. Be my good girl, study well and help Amma.”

Then he gets into a cab and leaves. Something inside me breaks into pieces and pains.

I am still rubbing my eyes, coz I am still in sleep. Mom takes us back with tears in her eyes and puts me back to sleep.

When I wake up to get ready for school, I finally realize that my Dad has left for the Mid-East leaving us all alone. Once at school I had wailed almost all day long with Prabha teacher taking special care to console me. That would have been the first and last time I have cried like that.

The chatter-box now becomes a mere answer-box.

Phone calls weren’t possible then for two reasons: 1) we didn’t have a telephone 2) ISD rates could almost give a heart-attack to Aam Aadmi then. Thanks to my Mom, who taught me to write everyday to my Dad and sincerely posting all my letters to him without even once mentioning the high costs of AirMails then. I didn’t loose touch with my Dad even for once.

Our anthem then was Papa Jaldi Aa Jaana…a song from the movie Taqdeer (1967) sung by Lata Mangeshkar and Sulakshana Pandit.

He used to visit us for 30 days every two years. 15 days he used to spend in Kerala with his mother and siblings. The remaining 15 days…it was like we had to live a lifetime in these 15 days making it memorable for Dad and for ourselves.

It was after 10 years, when I was in 12th standard that my Dad finally decided to abandon  the lonely slogging in the deserts and share the burden of raising us with my Mom.

Life seeps into all of us once again…

My Mom had done it all alone all these years and had been rewarded with endless needles owing to her Blood Sugar, High Blood Pressure, Lichen Planus and Thyroid by the age of 40.

A sacrifice both my parents made to secure our lives. Going back into the past makes me wonder, was it all worth it?

I wouldn’t want our kids to have a childhood deprived of either of their parents for anything in this world. I know God only writes in the book called Destiny. I also know he’ll definitely listen to his own child’s humble request.

This one’s for you Achan & Amma…Love you a lot.

We needed you then, we need you now and we will need you forever.

Your and yours only,

Rekha & Renu

Advertisements

11 thoughts on “To Amma and Achan, With Love

    • I know my dear…u were way too small to understand the actual situation then. Glad that we hav come far from those days…Right???

  1. A very nice, touching piece of your life, Rekha… keep writing like this.. and hats off to your mom to have single-handedly managed everything..

    • Thanks, Uma! I was cleaning up my cupboard y’day n came across the box with Dad’s letters…I treasure them even now.

      Yes, a lonesome, painful, yet experienceful period of our life which made us responsible, way ahead of children our age.

      N hey, I’ll keep writing…coz datz something I really love to do.

  2. literally chechi..i was feeling choked after reading this..really what our parents did , we can never forget and can never thank them, but at least now we are in a position which they can be proud of..:)

  3. Pingback: Letters from a Father to his Daughter | Dew Drops

  4. Pingback: Amma, now I understand you. | Dew Drops

This space thrives on your comments. Bring it on!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s