By Darshana Dholakia
Translated by Ashok Vaishnava
Darshana Dholakia is a well-known contemporary Gujarati writer and critic. She has many essays to her credit. She has published 17 books in Gujarati including the translation of the Konkani novel Karmelin. Her books Narsinha Charitra Vimarsha, Narsinh Mehta, and Gujaratna Sarjakonu Prathmik Shukshna have been awarded by the Gujarati Sahitya Parishad. She is also the recipient of the prestigious Rashtriya Sahitya Akademi Award in the Best Translation Category in 2011 for Karmelin. Besides, she has received Dr. Jayant Khatri - Bakulesh Award for notable contribution to Gujarati literature. She works as the Professor and Head of Department of Gujarati at KSKV Kachchh University in Bhuj, Kachchh (Gujarat, India).
Mr. Ashok Vaishnav is an Ahmedabad based retired management professional. In his long career spanning over 38 years he worked in small-to-medium-to-large engineering companies as freelance trainer and process facilitator.
The present article is taken from her book Parichayparv (A Festival of Relationships), which is a bouquet of introductory pen-portraits—an anthology of short characterizations of great personalities, close relatives and friends, distilled from subtle observations of their lives made by the author. This article portrays the author's mother, Rasikbala Dholakia. The author delineates her mother’s way of instilling the sense of self-respect and self-esteem in her. It brings out the significance of a mother’s role in the process of socialization of children in the context of the Indian family system. It also defines mother as the person in whom life receives a form suitable for living in this world.
Baa - My Mother - A Person, A Woman is a beautiful account of a girl talking about her late mother and fondly remembering everything about her. It is a story about parents, who are our heroes; Baa, the woman in context here was a real legend—a perfect wife, daughter, sister and mother. Baa was not just the centre of the family, but when it came to the author, she was the centre of her world. This story is a testimony of the daily hard work, challenges and the triumph of the author’s mother. The story talks about everlasting values, affection and love as Darshana Dholakia introduces the readers to Baa.
During the course of my life, I have met many people, getting acquainted with some and knowing others intimately. Whenever I go down memory lane I see all these faces. But, there is one face that stays uppermost in my memory—that of my mother, Baa. It has been over a decade since she passed away, but even today I look back to see her, as a person, as a woman. In fact, my current perspective of her is far more objective than it was then. Now that she is physically not beside me, the different facets of her personality, at different levels, keep unfolding in front of me.
I was born when Baa was thirty-nine years old. In the context of the period, when child marriage was a common convention, that age could fairly be termed as old age. My two elder brothers were much older than me. I carry dim memories of my beautifully dressed mother. Widowhood descended upon Baa at the age of forty-four when I was merely five years old. Memory of that sad evening is still fresh in my mind. It was the last evening of Bapa's (Father's) life. In the hospital's gloomy light of electric lamps, the light of Bapa's lamp of life was slowly, but inevitably, fading out. The pathos of the impending parting was spreading on Baa’s face. Engulfed in a sense of impending tragedy, I stood there, clinging to the partition of the hospital room.
From the very next morning until her death, Baa remained clad in a borderless black saree, light blue blouse, unadorned hands, nose and ears, bare feet and unruly, oil-free, dry hair! More than conformance to the social convention, this state of being expressed Baa’s silent revolt against her fate! However, this never affected Baa’s positive attitude towards life. Baa’s unwavering commitment to life was all for her three children, particularly me. Despite being emotionally shattered by the death of her husband, Baa remained composed till the end of her life.
As a skillful homemaker and caring mother, she kept herself busy with embroidering, sewing, and weaving to instill all these skills in me. I remember an incident when Dr. Chandra Joshi, a renowned academician of Kutch was visiting our home—Baa had embroidered ‘Welcome’ and ‘Please Be Seated’ on the cushion covers. While taking a seat on that chair Dr. Joshi joyfully commented, “Now, no thing remains to be done by anyone to welcome guests in your house.”
Growing up in a society riddled with dogma and traditions, seeds of aspiration and awareness of being a woman were instinctively sown by the silent firmness of my mother. Whenever Baa perceived pity or sympathy for me in the eyes of others, she would tenderly take away the pain of the absence of my father from those moments. This was her way of instilling a sense of self-respect and self-esteem in me.
In that orthodox and conservative period, widows had to confine themselves to dark and dingy rooms wherein not a single ray of sun would touch their feet. Every evening, Baa would hold my hand and take me to the main gate of our house that opened onto the public road to sit there for a while. Today I take even more pride in Baa’s revolt against dogmas and conventions of her time than I did then.
As I grew up, Baa’s persona too grew like a huge tree in my mind. Taking me to school, putting covers on my new notebooks, affectionately caressing them while doing so, teaching me not to shed tears on minor disappointments in life, inspiring faith in God to seek solutions to any unforeseen challenges; Baa nurtured me with love, affection and care.
Helping her in the kitchen was a lesson in humility—I could never ask her what she needed, I was supposed to not only anticipate her needs but also fulfill them instantly. Any slip in manners or work was punished by her refusal to speak with me. After much cajoling, she would start to converse but in short crisp sentences. No choice of food was ever entertained in meals. Whatever was served had to be consumed. Her response to my refusal to eat certain foods was, “If you eat less now, your stomach will be better.”
Upon returning home from a trip outside we were expected to immediately change from formal dress to routine casual wear. The formal clothes had to be folded correctly and put under the mattress for pressing. Not a moment’s delay was accepted for this task. And if at all I delayed the task, Baa would not scold me, but would take it upon herself to complete the task. The resulting humiliation was her way of punishment. Baa’s simple maxim was, “In our absence too, our existence should be felt and noticed. That is what a disciplined life is all about.”
Following traditions of her time, in the presence of elder members of the family, Baa would not exchange a single word with her children. We were expected to remain standing in front of the elders or be seated on the floor; Baa too did the same. Chairs or sofas were beyond imagination. She was an inspiration for us, and her method of teaching was “Practice before you preach.” I don’t remember a single time when Baa made anyone sit and listen to her. According to her, learning was an instinctive and involuntary process; and teaching was not a process of ‘imposing’ but that of ‘instilling.’
Baa was brought up in a rustic ambience, her education ended after grade seven. After her marriage she moved to Bhuj, considered a big city then, her life revolved around domestic chores. Despite this, she contributed positively to every sphere of her family’s life. Baa had innate confidence which remained unshaken till the end.
I recall an incident where she was called to my school for a minor transgression of mine. As Baa and I waited outside the Principal’s chamber, my eyes were filled with tears. The Principal came out of his chamber and upon seeing me, ordered me to stand up. As I struggled to get up Baa boldly told the Principal, “The school hours are now over, so she shall not stand up. You have called us to complain, please tell us what you have to.” The principal was stunned. Thereafter, The Principal always told me, “Don’t bring your grandma to school. I am scared of her!”
Baa always wanted me to have a high self-esteem yet never be arrogant. While addressing any elderly person in writing, Baa insisted upon the use of the word murabbi (respected) in salutation and pranaam (obeisance) in the complimentary closure of the letter. I have invariably followed this practice thereafter in all my correspondence. Her maxim was: “One who bows is liked by God.”
Seeing the complex patterns of relations in the family, sometimes I would get agitated, Baa would soothe me by saying, “We should never change our colors, and should be faithful to the relation till the end”. In spite of suffering disillusionments in relationships, Baa continued to put in more than her share to sustain the relationships.
Baa performed all roles assigned to her wonderfully and conscientiously. With unflinching devotion, she served my ailing grandmother in the last stage of her life. She tried to fill the loneliness of her widowed elder brother with love and companionship. Baa showered her care and love on all—be they knowns, unknowns, or neighbors. My father’s maternal family was close to us and lived with us. Baa looked after all her brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law with motherly affection. Wit, irony and humour flowed naturally in the family and enriched our lower middle class household.
With sweet innocence Baa shared memories of her marital life. For all of the thirty-two years my father showered love upon Baa without a tinge of male dominance. An unspoken understanding between my parents was the need for family planning, they both walked together in life hand-in-hand, in perfect harmony. Such was Baa’s devotion to my father that she avoided family occasions if she had to attend them without her husband, and consequently she had earned the title ‘madly in love with her husband’. She accepted it with pleasure. She rarely visited her father’s house, which was just a short distance away and it was a rare occasion on which she agreed to stay back at her father’s house. My father would dutifully turn up to take her home and Baa would happily return with him.
When Baa was 33, tragedy struck in the family and my father’s favorite niece lost her husband. My father was heartbroken, Baa stood by my father like a true companion, and they both supported his niece in rebuilding her life. Her empathetic nature came to the fore and along with my father’s niece Baa renounced wearing colorful clothes and ornaments instinctively sharing norms of widowhood.
My father passed away at the age of just fifty-five when the family was preparing for my elder brother’s marriage. Both my brothers were still struggling to stand on their feet, and I was yet to enroll in school. The wedding ceremony was postponed, and gloom descended upon the family. After six months, the marriage was performed without much celebration. Baa, pushing aside sadness, cooked traditional sweets and welcomed my brother’s bride as she stepped into our house for her new life.
Baa always chose to stand at the fringe, to facilitate sufficient space for others. And because of this virtue, Baa always remained at the center of our family. In her absence too, no one could ever escape her tender influence. Of course, Baa never felt attached to such feelings, not even remotely!
Despite being brought up in an orthodox society, Baa’s modernity astonished me many times. For the purpose of study and service, I often had to travel out of station; Baa once said, “Now your life is similar to a man’s life. The world is what it is! God forbid but if you become pregnant, never think about committing suicide. Life is very precious, give birth to the child and bring it up with pride.” Today, when I think of her bold and proud approach to life, I wonder how far ahead of her time she was.
Baa never praised or eulogized us despite her deepest love for us. It was an implicit manifestation of her detachment from emotion. She listened silently when anyone eulogized us, this unshaken detachment stood by her even at the time of death. She suffered a severe heart-attack while doing household work on the night preceding the day of Mahashivratri (The Night of Lord Shiv’s Birth). She endured unbearable pain for a full sixty minutes, but she continued to chant her prayers. Her last words to us were “Have no worries about you. You are now grown up. The unrest I experience is that of death. Now, I leave....” Her last breath brought our twenty-five year long journey of togetherness to an end. On the dawn of Shivratri, I relived the same sorrow which I had experienced, at the age of five, on the demise of my father.
Now, the years are passing away sans Baa... Yet her clarity of thought and deep understanding of life are a part of my inner self. She had negligible education, yet she made so much of her simple life and gave confidence to those around her. Baa lived a life devoid of pomposity, she inculcated a rich legacy of values.
Every night, memories of Baa gently come and sit upon my eyelids. Baa asks me, “Are you asleep? This is not done! There are many things still untold.” I am engulfed by Baa’s absence. I feel privileged to be Baa’s daughter, I got her, and then I lost her too. But did I? No. The bond between us remains intact to this day. She continues to live within me. I am very proud. I have slept in thy womb.
| Question | Options |
|---|---|
| 1. This article was originally written in Gujarati by: | (a) Darshana Dholakia (b) Varsha Adalija (c) Saumya Joshi (d) Kaajal Oza Vaidya |
| 2. How much time had passed since the death of the author’s mother when this article was written? | (a) Over 2 decades (b) Over 3 decades (c) Over a decade and a half (d) Over 2 decades and a half |
| 3. How old was the author’s mother when the author was born? | (a) 19 (b) 29 (c) 39 (d) 49 |
| 4. What was the author’s age when her father died? | (a) 2 (b) 3 (c) 4 (d) 5 |
| 5. The author’s mother had completed her education up till which level? | (a) 7th standard (b) 10th standard (c) 12th standard (d) Graduate |
| 6. Who said these lines? “Now, nothing ever remains to be done by anyone to welcome the guests in your house.” | (a) Dr. Chandra Joshi (b) Dr. Vikash Sharma (c) Dr. Giriraj Singh (d) Keshubhai |
| 7. What was the color of the borderless saree which Baa always wore after her husband’s death? | (a) White (b) Black (c) Blue (d) Grey |
| 8. How old was the author’s father when he passed away? | (a) 50 (b) 55 (c) 60 (d) 65 |
| 9. How many brothers did the author have? | (a) 2 (b) 3 (c) 4 (d) 5 |
| 10. Baa inspired the author to have faith in ________ to seek solution to any unforeseen events in life. | (a) Rama (b) Shiva (c) Ganesha (d) Vishnu |