Showing posts from August, 2010

Would you know my name, if I saw you in Heaven?

Four years ago, on this very same Aug 22nd, my Amma - my dearest, closest friend, decided to call it a day. Even her last moments were so typical of her – no melodrama, no fuss. It was over in a matter of minutes. Of course, it took us all by a huge surprise – mums are supposed live for 200 years. Amma went away at 53. She was healthy, cheerful and full of life till the last moment – and so, her sudden exit wounded us in the worst possible way.
Things have returned to ‘normal’. We can now remember her without a gut-wrenching pain. We can smile at all the memories fondly. Yet, life can never be the same without her. It is like eating bland food all the time. Of course, the thought that she is somewhere up there, watching us and guiding us, is very comforting. But it is not the same as hearing her voice, hearing her laughter, feeling her touch.
Amma came from a poor Brahmin family – her father was a strict, principled school head-master in the village of Sargur, near Mysore. Typical …