Malati woke up with a start. The cold winds were blowing through the window. As she went to shut them, warm rays of the setting sun gave the room an orange glow. Leaving the windows open she sat on the bed looking at the mesmerizing play of colours in the evening sky. Her reverie was broken by a soft knock on the door. She looked up to find a young woman with a cup of coffee in her hands.
“Ma, do you want something to eat?”
Malathi looked at her again. She did not recognize the face, yet felt a strange sense of attachment. She picked up her glasses from the table and wore them.
“What shall I make for dinner Ma? How about some rajma, your favourite?”
“May I ask you your name?”
“Smriti Ma, I am your daughter”
Malathi looked very confused. She was at a loss of words when the woman gave her the coffee calmly. She then placed a metal box on the table and said
“Take rest Ma, will call you for dinner” and left.
As she left the room, Smriti remembered what the doctor had told her.
“Dementia is quite common in old age. It is irreversible but not insufferable, especially if the family is supportive. All that your mother needs is a little understanding and care. Unless she is finding it difficult to manage the day-to-day activities you shouldn’t worry” his words echoed in her mind. The first time her mother forgot her name, she was distressed. But now she was becoming habituated to it. Her mother’s memory had become an open book whose pages were flipping continuously, landing at a random page, sometimes at a blank page… All that she could do was to swallow her pain and act as normal as possible. For she knew that her mother needed her the most at this point of time….
The weather got colder in the night. Malathi had just finished her dinner and got back to her room. As she put her sweater on she noticed the huge rectangular metal box lying on the table. She opened it to find a big stack of letters. Picking up the topmost one she began to read.
“Dearest Ma,
Today I chose to write to you like a hundred other women who have done it in the past. Because being your daughter I know that you cherish every one of these letters close to your heart.
Ma, as a daughter I can sense your restlessness and confusion. Though I do not understand what it feels like to get up every morning with your mind being a blank slate, what I know for sure is that you are one brave woman. Your strength, resilience and tireless spirit have inspired hundreds of women in the past, me included; you have crossed every hurdle in your life with your head held high and I do not want to see you bowing down in the face of any adversities in the future.
Ma, some days when you completely forget about me and ask me as to who I am, my mind treats it like a rhetorical question, even though I know that was not your intention. It forces me to reflect, dig into my past and prod through my present in search of my identity. One of the reasons I am writing to you today is because I want to share my innermost thoughts about myself with you.
Ma, isn’t it ironic that while you struggle to remember I constantly find myself traveling back in time, rediscovering and reliving all the moments we spent together. I must have been four when I first met you. I remember waking up in the hospital room with my hand and leg in plaster and in immense pain. I was told you were the only acquaintance they could locate and in all innocence, I believed them. It was only years later when you decided to tell me the truth did I discover about my biological parents. As to how my mother and father had married against their respective families’ wishes and after being completely disowned and threatened by them, they had sought the help of your organization and you had extended your support wholeheartedly. On being intimated about that deadly accident you had rushed to the hospital immediately. I have a very faint memory of their faces now, but sitting in that hospital bed as you held my hand and broke the news of their death to my four-year-old self, I remember how devastated I felt. As I wailed loudly, you held me, comforted me and showered me with love like I was your own child. That was the first time I felt your infinite love Ma…
That day as you took me home with you I felt a strange sense of belonging. And that bond strengthened in the subsequent days, when you took care of me and nurtured me back to health, day and night, in spite of your busy schedule. It took you just two months to take the decision that changed my destiny; the decision of legally adopting me…
I remember that day clearly Ma. You had come back from your office with adoption papers in hand, and I was playing with my dolls.
“Aunty, can you play with me?”, I had asked to which you had nodded your head and said: “Only on one condition dear if you call me Ma from now on\”
“Can you play with me MA?”
I am surprised now as to how effortlessly it had come to me; that one syllable that means my world to me…
As years went by and I bloomed in your nurturing hands, I saw you work relentlessly on causes close to your heart. Education, justice, empowerment of the poorer sections of society especially women; you were a champion in your own right and to so many people who had come seeking your help. I remember people from all walks of life irrespective of their class or caste thronged our house and your office. You patiently listened to their problems, offered anything that you could from financial assistance to counselling, with that warm smile never leaving your face.
Through your NGO you supported so many girls with dreams in their eyes, sheltered women who had been abandoned by their parents, husband or children and trained them to become financially independent. On those rare occasions that you took me out with you, wherever we went, I recall we would meet at least a handful of people who would come and thank you for your help. You stood very tall in my eyes Ma and standing beside you I felt so small but I looked up to you with immense pride..
As I completed my graduation and started harbouring dreams of higher education, I remember you had got me applications from some of the best universities in the world. You encouraged me eagerly to go and pursue my dreams. Only when I got selected, did the realization that I had to leave you, hit me. But you stood like an anchor supporting my ambitions, helped me embrace my fears and partake that journey. I still remember the emotional goodbye at the airport when you had smiled through your tears and told me how proud you felt of me. It was the best compliment I had ever received Ma.
Seven years went by in a flash and I got very busy scaling the path I had chosen for myself. Whenever I visited you I got a sense something was amiss. Your gait had become slow, almost as if cautious and your demeanor less sprightly; you kept losing and searching for your things all the time. As time went by you kept forgetting people’s names and places. I kept worrying about you but even then you egged me on to complete the daunting task I had set out to achieve and only then think of returning..
When I finally came back armed with degrees and a job profile that made you feel ecstatic, I was extremely worried about your deteriorating health. With you no longer in position to run your NGO, I had to take over the reins myself. That is when I got an understanding of the enormity of your efforts and the gravity of your work Ma. I still fumble and grope to find my way in difficult situations and trying circumstances but the very thought that you are with me in everything that I do, keeps my spirits high; your shoes may be too large to fill for anybody but your life is a book from whose every single page I draw my inspiration..
Yet as destiny would have it this very identity that you have so generously given me, is becoming a blur to you. I have realized that my education or my degrees, my work or my values are not what defines me. The relationship that forms the core of my identity is this- I am your daughter, Ma; may not be by blood; nor by legal papers but with all my heart and soul. And you are everything to me…
I am writing to you with a glimmer of hope that every time you read this letter, you are reminded of all the wonderful moments we have spent together as mother and daughter. But don’t worry if you can’t because even if past seems slipping away, in our present right here, I want you to know that I am always with you and will always be in the future too… And nothing else gives me greater joy than your presence in my life..
With all the love that I can give,
Your daughter,
Smriti.”
Malathi kept the letter down she sat there staring at what seemed like nothingness for a long time. A tear trickled down from her eyes. Wiping it and went into the living room where Smriti sat reading a book.
“Unable to sleep Ma? Shall we go for a walk around the garden?”
Malathi looked at Smriti and quietly nodded her head. Smriti held her hands and led Malathi into the garden. As the two ladies walked in the moonlight hand in hand both sensed that life had come a full circle; the winds of time had turned over a new leaf in their life turning the daughter into a mother and mother into a daughter again…