this time of grief, I remember the very struggling and challenging marital life of my mother, who was the eleventh of the twelve children of her parents. Theirs was an arranged marriage. She was then fifteen years old. I was born when she was sixteen. I used to fear my father who would often beat my mother. Once he beat me so mercilessly that my skin was left with red marks for many days. Seeing this situation, my maternal grandmother brought me to her place where I remained with her all throughout her life. I was then only three years old. She afterwards sent me to a school and bore all my educational expenses up to the secondary level. I became the first child from both households to go to a school. Some years later, my parents got separated and my mother returned to her mother’s house with my three younger sisters. All six of us lived in one small room that included a kitchen. My sisters were sent to free government schools for their education because my maternal grandmother could not afford to spend more. Those were really the hard days. Sometimes, I would take my first sister, then seven or eight years old, to the market, a two minutes’ walk from home. The coconut seller who knew us would break some coconuts and allow the coconut water to settle into our kettle which he would, otherwise, have thrown to the ground. Back home, my sisters and I would enjoy drinking it. Sometime later, my mother started working part-time in a household of a very young couple, cooking food for that family. The money she earned provided some sort of relief to our household. Our financial problem ended after I got a job in a bank. She left the cooking work and had more time for all of us. She was also devoted to the well-being of relatives and locals and would help them in various possible ways by solving their household problems or taking them to hospitals during emergency. That is why so many people who knew her came and cried a lot during her funeral. She also enjoyed her life, seeing the marriage of three of her children and living with them. Along with me, she had visited many, many places all over India and those she visited abroad were London, Paris, Engelberg, Lüzern, Munich, Wattens, Innsbruck, Venice, Rome, Vatican, Pisa, Aswan, Alexandria, Luxor, Hurghada, Giza Necropolis and Cairo. Besides trains, aeroplanes and ships, she had also travelled in a helicopter, submarine and catamaran. We attended to her needs and took care of her during her last eleven months – me, my sisters, two of my nephews (the third studying medicine at a college in North Bengal) and my son. My maternal grandmother was a far-sighted person. Before she died, she had told me to always show my mother to a good doctor, although she was not at all ill at that time! In any case, how could I leave my mother? I was committed to look after her at any cost. After all, she was my mother. Years later, I always took her to good doctors and hospitals whenever she required medical treatment. She was also a very brave person. Thirteen years ago, she broke her right femur and a metal rod implant with a ball-like structure at the top was fixed in her bone during the surgical operation. When she returned from the hospital, she walked up the stairs to her second-floor flat without any help. The next year, a pacemaker had to be implanted in her body after she suffered from full heart blockage. Last year, it was history repeating itself. In February, she fell and broke her right femur again. Plate clamps were used this time during her surgical operation. In June, she underwent pacemaker replacement operation. In July, she had to be hospitalised again for dehydration and stomach problem. On the last day of the last year, she had to be hospitalised for the fourth time, after her sugar and sodium levels came drastically down. However, she was discharged after twelve days after receiving the due treatment. Back home, she was doing well. She had her food in time, but around thirty-three hours later, she suffered a cardiac arrest and left us forever. We four siblings, remaining united as in the past, are now left with memories of our dear mother.
Daily Telegraph 30197