So, having accomplished the mission in Burundi, I flew to India to pay a month-long visit to Mom. She was happy to see me again, although no one was expecting me. Mom hugged me and cried while others milled around asking where I was coming from, how long I was staying etc. so I told them that I had just visited Rwanda and Burundi and was on my way back to the Philippines. No one knew or had even heard of these countries, but that did not surprise me anymore.
Shanti even made fun of Rwanda saying it sounded like ‘anda’ which means egg in Hindi, but I was determined not to be disturbed by their comments. It was only going to be a short visit of 10 days, so I was prepared to say nothing and do nothing. Thankfully, their curiosity lasted about 5 minutes, after which they left me alone. I felt sorry for Mom, who said that she suffered a great deal of pain. I was amazed at the great number of medicines she took and gulped down the white liquid which she said was the antacid syrup.
I tried to comfort her but did not know how. She was feeble and partially blind. She stayed in bed most of the time but did not sleep very much. Nirmal said that he was doing all he could and consulted the best doctors in town, but her problem was old age and loneliness.
I kept quiet. I knew better than to open my mouth. These people could take something I said and use it twenty years later to start a quarrel with someone. I said nothing about Rwanda or Burundi. Nirmal had once told me that God had made the blacks ugly, which to me was so shocking that I did not know what to say. But Bengalis derided anyone who was not Bengali.
They said that the Sikhs were stupid, the southerners uncouth who did not know how to eat properly, and the Punjabis were shameless and unethical. The local UP people were uncivilized, and the Biharis were barbarians etc. Only the Bengalis were the best because didn’t they produce Tagore and Subhash Chandra Bose? The Bengalis tended to live in the past, probably no more than others, but they did live in the past.
Annapurna also came, but had no idea I was in town. People were not surprised that I visited India often. They took me for granted and said that international travel to me was like going to visit someone next door. I left for Delhi with a heavy heart this time because I knew Mom was not going to be around much longer. Dad was long gone, and now she too would leave us. She had lived through many difficulties and sickness in life, of which she spoke with misty eyes while I brushed her snow-white hair.
She told me how badly the relatives in Kolkata had treated her when she was with my father there, tending to his needs. He was in the hospital for his cancer treatment and the operation while my poor Mom braved the crowd riding many buses to reach him every day with food. She was old at that time, but no one often gave her a seat in the crowded bus. I did not know that our relatives were so bad, and made a promise never to see them again.
I had sent her money from Vietnam regularly and built the upper floor so that she could get an income from the rent, but she gave the money to Sabita for her upkeep and Sabita being a shameless woman took it. But she had the pension and was not short of money. She in fact gave it away freely to her daughters and their children. What she needed was the feeling that she was loved and cherished by everyone, but Sabita did not love her.
Nirmal took care of her, but often sided with his wife. Annapura was away working somewhere, and I was the farthest. It made me sad. She was the greatest mother in the world, and I said so. But now she was old and weak and needed our love and help. Don’t people ever realize that they too will get old someday? How would I feel for example if Ashis and Jayanti someday told me that I was pretending to be sick to get attention when I lay in my bed all wrinkled and shriveled? If I am a proud person, which I am, then how much prouder Mom is?
She came from an important family in Sri Ram Pur and was the apple of the eye of her parents. She was born after my grandmother prayed for a girl child in Tarakeshwar temple and fasted there. That is why my Mom was called Tarakdashi or the servant of Tarakeshwar which is another name for Lord Shiva. She was given gold jewelry and beautiful saris when she married our father at the tender age of 13. She survived her husband and two sons who died which is hard for any woman.
She traveled all over India with my father but never saw any place because she was busy raising children, but never complained. I asked her to give me something that she had made so she gave me a most beautiful bed cover of crochet work that had taken her years to make. It is now with us forever in the Philippines.
The marriage
After leaving Burundi, I had to make a visit to Sri Ram Pur again because Nirmal’s daughter was getting married, so they wanted me to attend her marriage. I had to spend nearly two months there and then pick up Annapurna to bring her to the Philippines. She was eager to travel abroad for the first time in her life and visit the Philippines.
I have written enough about the Sri Ram Pur people, so I will not repeat myself. I found Nirmal very busy preparing for the marriage of his only daughter. The groom had been selected through matchmaking as was the custom, and he had purchased the gold jewelry etc. already that he showed me eagerly. There was some communal tension in Sri Ram Pur, so the mayor had imposed a curfew that made going around difficult. But somehow the preparations went ahead, and the invitation cards were printed.
Nirmal had included my name on the card as sponsor, but I noticed that in the final printing my name was omitted because Sabita did not want it. She had also refused my gift of a Sony radio/tape recorder to her daughter by saying that they could afford a better one. I had given Nirmal a check in dollars for his daughter that he neglected for a while to put safely away and left it here and there on the coffee table or somewhere else.
When I asked for one invitation card to give to someone, Nirmal neglected that as well until a day before the marriage, making it clear that my guests were not important to him. My gift of the radio was later passed on to Parvati because Sabita did not want it. As if they were bent on humiliating me in every respect. I put up with everything silently.
I was a stranger here, so I could not really help him in anything because I did not know anyone anymore. I waited patiently for my stay to end so that I could leave, but one week in that house seemed very long, let alone two months. Annapurna did not make it any easier by constantly harping on my silence and said I was a very boring person who did not know how to talk to anyone. I did not go out or talk to anyone.
Finally, on the day of the marriage the groom’s party arrived from Delhi by train so I went to the station to receive them along with Nirmal and others. There was a problem when the bus driver could not be found anywhere while the guests waited so I suggested hiring a few taxis, but I was overruled in this effort. Nirmal’s friends did not give me any importance because they took their cue for him. Anyway the driver was later located, and the guests lodged in a hotel, but here too there were problems.
The hotel rooms and the bathrooms were dirty because the person in charge had failed to clean everything before the guests arrived. Again I tried to help, but my help was ignored. Later in the evening, they all arrived at the house, but there was no one to receive them. The reception committee of girls was busy with lipsticks and mascara so it was very embarrassing for Nirmal being the host and the father of the girl.
I was just a silent witness to all these dramas. The reception for the invitees was held outside the house on the sidewalk under a tent, where the caterers prepared food and coffee and put them on tables for the guests to help themselves. This was the new trend. Gone were the traditions of serving food to the guests and urging them to eat. Now people came to eat by picking what they wanted and soon left without once entering the house and seeing the bride and the groom or anyone. Many did not know who I was, so paid no attention. Nirmal was busy with the ceremony inside the house.
My Mom was also ignored. She was old and could not help anyone in any way, but she still was the owner of this big house and being the grandmother of the bride deserved some respect and attention, but Sabita said that she was too busy even to die. The girls stayed up all night playing VHS movies one after the other along with the bride and the groom. I was told that this too was a new tradition. They also inspected each and every gift to evaluate its worth and who gave what. This was to be their subject for gossip in days and weeks to come.
I was very annoyed by everything I saw. Now we had to leave for Delhi, where another reception was planned. There too it was the same story. The caterers left the food on the table for the invitees to take as they wished. I did not know anyone there, so no one paid any attention to me. But I was happy that it was finally over, and we could leave for the Philippines.
So one fine morning I with Annapurna flew to Manila and from there by bus to Naga. Jasmine wanted Annapurna to enjoy her stay with us, so spared no expense to make her comfortable. She bought her gifts, took her to parties at her friend’s house, to movies and to many scenic places like Balatan and Legaspi to show her the Mayon volcano. She took many photos for her and gave her the prints in several albums to take back to India.
There is no limit to Jasmine’s generosity because she has a big heart unblemished by petty feelings and jealousy. It was as if she could not do enough for Annapurna. So Annapurna returned to India very happy. Her visit to the Philippines and her first trip abroad flying for the first time was very successful. She had many photos to show and many things to talk about but found Sabita not interested. Her relationship with them was from this point on to go steadily downward.
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