Stories of No guts & No glory : My Chittamma
In the
next few couple of hours I will be reaching home. A lot of things are running around in my head
at this moment. Everytime I go to home like every other human being I do expect
to see some faces which are deeply embedded in our heart and soul. At this moment, it is my parents , my sister, my nephew and
neice and one more face which I would love to see again is..or was…my
aunt’s. She was younger to my dad by 10
years, unmarried and lived with us since my childhood. Her name was “Baby” ( I’m serious!), i actually wanted to ask my Grand-parents
that for the love of god why did they name their daughter as Baby. Before I could achieve some amount of active
neurons in my brain they bid farewell.
My father and
mother were both employed and the care taking was carried out by my aunt, whom
we call as “Chittamma”. Now in Kerala
“chitta” means mother’s sister, and theoretically she was my Father’s
sister! That mutation took place due to
my cousin who’s the daughter of the daughter of my grand-father’s sister !!
Phewwww….so for my cousin she was “chitta” and for me she was simply called as
“Aunt”. Somehow I didn’t approve this
and rebelled and brought a memorandum of understanding between us cousins. From that day onwards she was unanimously
named as “Chitta”. It got once again
mutated since she took care of us toddlers when our mothers were away on
work. So the word “Amma” which means
mother was added to that and was called as “Chittamma”.
The reason why
she was not married is still a case of argument, but undoubtedly it projected
the inefficiency of my Father and my father’s brother. But when things are bound to happen in such a
way that all of us will be rendered
helpless. So she was with us , as an
integral part of my family; as the Head-of-the-Department of Catering ! If I put it in a very sentimental way, every
bit of the fat/flubber/tyre/fluff in my body is indebted to her. Its been 10 years now since I got my job and
used to touch home only once or twice in a year but she ensured that something
special from her repertoire-de-cuisine was ready for me. If anyone asks me about my family I would say
that I have two mothers, and she was the second, my chittamma!
My chittamma with my nephew Madhav.
This year,
2013, I bought a new house and we shifted from our old locality where we lived
since 1991. The entire locality called
her “Chitamma” as she mingled with everybody.
Even my classmates, especially Paul who has been through my thick and
thin was sent a special pack of lunch (as that bugger was a lazy bone that he
never brought lunch) and my best friend Chacko who frequented my home and was
subjected to severe cuisine experiments by chittamma…..she was Chitta for them
also! But ever since we changed our
home, she was slightly unhappy. As she had
to leave her best friends back in our old place. She was severely diabetic, and very soon
became fragile. And the last time I spoke
to her was in the first week of April 2013, she sounded healthy. And it was
just one week short of my leave. Two days
later my sister, called me up and told me that chittamma was slightly slipping,
and is almost bed ridden, and she wanted to see me.
My leave was
signed on a last moment and no trains were available during the time. That I had to travel down to Chennai first
and then catch a bus to kochi. I reached
home on 14 Apr which is the “Vishu”
day. I went straight to her room and she was lying there. In a water bed since
she developed bed sores, and was not able to talk. She could only mumble, but soon tears were
rolling out as we met. Hugged her,
kissed her a lot and asked her so many things for which she mumbled as in
agreement. She was almost bedridden for
over a month and my mother was taking care of her. My heart sank the very moment I saw her, a
deep intuition that she won’t sustain long.
On 16 Apr
morning I was getting ready to go for some grocery shopping and I went to see
her once again just to say that I’m going out and I will be back soon. I saw her eyes were dry, and the breathing
was shallow. I called up my mom and
informed the condition. And somehow with
half mind I left for shopping. But
something was bugging me and by around 11 o’clock I called up home and it was
my father who picked up and he was
crying…..Chittamma left. Couldn’t say
much, couldn’t hear much and she left.
Almost all the relatives who kept away all these times reached there for
her funeral.
What else I could
do?? Deep in my heart I believe that her soul was ready to leave….and it had
one last wish ….to see me. Now I know
that there wont be any disappearing laddoos , or half filled beer bottles in my
fridge anymore, because she liked such things, and when confronted will just
blink her eyes with a smile.
In the next few couple of hours I will be
reaching home ....all I want to do at that moment is to rush to her room,
and wish she was there to greet me …..maybe I will see her sometime in the
future and I have kept a lot of kisses to be given on her cheeks…till then.
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