Memories — Home & Ma. This was written the first time I…
By: Deepika Pathak
Tags: Home Sweet Home, Mothers, Memories, Fathers Love, Parents

This was written the first time I visited home after Ma passed away….this was written in June 2017.

This was the first time that I was coming home knowing that I won’t find Ma here and will never find her here anymore. Well, last year I was here at around the same time and Ma was in Delhi and we would talk but not anymore.

When Baba opened the doors there was so much pain in him and it’s hard to describe it but to me it was like a regret of having taken them to Delhi and not to bring her back, not giving her the chance to see her home. I had my reasons and I would never know that it would be her last.

I have been away from home since 1998, almost 20 years now and have come home once or twice a year, for two weeks or so. And then she would keep my clothes, slippers ready every time. Our home coming meant a lot for her always, she would be happy. We would talk and then food would follow. This time though, I had to look for my clothes and slippers and knowing that it will be like this from now.

So the maid did not turn up and I was wondering how to wash all these clothes when Baba asked me to use the washing machine. So I did and remembered that it is Ma who came to my rescue; this washing machine was her farewell gift from her workplace!

The next day the maid asked if we had ‘Neel’, the cloth whitener and I promptly said no. It has been way too long we have forgotten the use of Neel and though Ma used it all the time it never was my job! So I looked at another container and yes it was there. The maid was happy and I was left wondering at life, the stuff we accumulate over the years, the stuff that becomes part of our daily lives, one day we leave these all and just go.

It pains more to see Baba do all the household chores with the same level of duty as he always did. I tend to give up but his life is a lesson. Tirelessly he dried the clothes last evening, went to get the broken utensil fixed and ensured all bank jobs were done.

And as I washed and re-arranged the curtains I almost expected Ma to come and say ‘Oh you changed this, you replaced that…’ I look for approval but from where?

Her Sarees…she needed those for work just as I buy dresses because I get bored. She was a working woman and over the years has accumulated lots. Seeing them lying nicely sorted, ironed gives me goosebumps…I just can’t believe that she will not handle these any more. And more so, I am not sure how many we will wear over the years given that we don’t really wear Sarees these days.

As I browse through very old items which obviously needs to be discarded and I have done that in the past, and with ease, but now the thought of a memory attached to it comes to mind. And I take a step back and think maybe next time!

On both the Thursdays I read the ‘Panchali’, every word I read was effortless, since those words were like ringing in my ears the way Ma read it and as though I had memorized those. Climbing up and down the stairs gives me a sudden jolt, that feeling that she won’t be here anymore but is she watching?

There is a ‘mura’ in the kitchen where she used to sit and have her tea, or cut the vegetables or make the rotis in the stove. Seems like there is no kerosene supply these days and the stove will soon be gone.

Memories..