Whoever, who knows me can vouch for this that I can talk constantly and forever and ever (I can even sense the evil smiles from my readers right now). I am infected with this verbal diarrhea for as long as I remember. Did I mention that although I talk a lot, I am still very interesting company? Or at least, that's what I think. And, obviously, a person who can talk this much will have many topics of various kinds to talk about and thousands of topics to write about. Having said that, there is still one topic I feel hesitant to talk about or I stop myself from putting my thoughts into words is about "MY MOM". My mommy "Kusum Agarwal", my strength, my inspiration left us for her heavenly abode on May 19, 2009. I love my mother as everyone else and I love to talk about her. And now when she is not with us physically although she will always be with us in our spirit, I find it more prudent to talk about her so that we can cherish all memories we have. Still, as I said earlier, I STOP myself.
Also, talking and writing about her are two different experiences altogether. When I talk about her, I keep my emotions in check so that I am not crying my eyes out, but when I write or even think to write about her, all my emotions bottled up and break all the limits and I just plainly start crying. If I were writing this blog on a paper with a pen, there would be big blotches of tears on the paper. Currently, the digital world is saving my embarrassment. I am not embarrassed for remembering my mom or crying like a child, but because my mom would never appreciate my crying. In fact, while growing up the rule was, the more you cry in front of her, the more you get the thrashings from her. I know she can see me all the time and can thrash me even from up there while sitting in heaven hahaha. Jokes apart, just recently a colleague of mine died in unexpected circumstances leaving behind him his wife and twin teenage sons. This incident refreshed the death of my parents and made me rethink all the memories. So, today finally I could gather up the courage and started writing about my mom.Writing about my mom is going to be a long post; therefore, I wisely decided to divide it into two parts.
Today, when I am writing about mummy (not mommy; predominantly mothers are called mummy in India), I first want to mention the reasons for not doing so before. It is true that writing about my mom is not an easy task as I miss her every moment and I would cry constantly as I mentioned before, but the main and the biggest reason for not writing about her is the sympathy people start showering on me when I talk about my parents. When I mention her, people feel like; awee poor girl.... she misses her mom.... awee she is sad. And, that's what I don't appreciate. I talk about her or want to write about her because I love her and I guess everyone talks about their mom for the same reason. Now, because she is not with us does not change the purpose of my talking about my mom. I want people to listen and show interest in the conversation and not sympathy. Trust me if I want sympathy I will cry and ask for it, and then you might wanna run away from this super whiny person. I know death changes everything but it didn't change my love for her, it did not fade any memories of her. Now is more the reason that I talk about her so that no one forgets her and she lives forever in everyone's memory. So, please after reading this post leave a thumbs up or share a laugh or appreciate the blog but please don't sympathize or feel sorry for me. Yes, I am sorry that I don't have her anymore, but more than sorry I am proud, glad, happy, fortunate to have her as my mom for whatever small time I had with her and no amount of sadness can change that.
My mom was born in Kore gaon (at least that's how it sounds when people pronounce the village name). She was my grandparents' (Raghunath Singhal and Bekunthi Singhal) first child. She has one younger sister and one younger brother. Mummy lost her father when she was 4 years old because of ill health. My Nanaji's (maternal-grandfather) older brother (Malook Chand Singhal, also called nanaji) took care of my nani (maternal-grandmother) and kids after my nanaji's death. He provided the family with shelter in his house and other essentials. My mom was married off to my papa (age 21) at the age of 16, on July 4, 1968 (There is no other date as important as this date to me). Although the marriage alliance is usually arranged between both families through a common friend or something, a grapevine told me that papa fell in love head over heels with my mom and made the arrangements possible ;) (winking emoticon). India is known for arranged marriages, in which the family of the boy and the girl meet and decide upon the possible alliance. During my parents' time, asking boy or girl about their preference was not even thought about. In today's age arranged marriages are still a traditional tie between families, where parents look for the suitable match, but the boy's and girl's preferences are taken into account now and many families even let boy and girl talk and understand each other before committing to each other. Yup, I know it sounds different or even weird but arranged marriages are a big part of Indian culture, and being born and brought up in a traditional family I have lived through this culture and find no fault in it.
Mummy came into a new family as the first daughter-in-law and took responsibility for taking care of my baba and amma (Panna Lal Agarwal and Triveni Agarwal; paternal- grandfather and grandmother) and chachaji and bua (paternal-aunts). Although my papa had an older half brother, he lived with his family independently, and thus my mom was considered the oldest daughter-in-law. In India, a new married couple does not start living on their own independently after they get married. A daughter-in-law after the wedding starts living with husband's family. This again is true for business families when boys join their father's business and live in the same house. Obviously, sons who work elsewhere lives independently with their wives and visit their parents or root family on holidays and important dates, like with my chachaji, in some cases parents keep alternating between all sons, like my amma did.
Being the oldest bahu (daughter-in-law) of the family, my parents had the most responsibilities but mom never complained. She took care of my amma after baba died and took responsibilities associated with all 3 bua's and chachaji's weddings happily. Meanwhile, my parents family was also expanding. Mummy gave birth to six daughters and one son. Yup, we are seven siblings. And, I have not mentioned it before, but I am the youngest daughter but older than my brother. My parents like any regular couple have seen lots of ups and downs of life. Losses in business, family problems, responsibilities of many kids, taunts of having so many daughters (especially to my mom, before my brother was born) were a regular part of my parents' life. At the same time good moments, happiness, proud feelings due to their kids, respect from family and friends made a bigger share in their life. My mom was a support pillar of the house and was the biggest strength of my papa.
Almost anyone who remembers my mom will mention that the biggest asset of my mom was her big smile, her jovial nature, her caring attitude, her boundless love for her own and others. Almost everyone talks about her good nature and her big heart. And this is important because at the same time all these people also know the sad fact that my mom was very ill due to asthma and was unable to walk a lot or do anything rigorous. When I was growing up, I have always seen her sick or in pain, but that is not what comes to my mind when I think about her. When I think about her, I see her strength, her determination, her taking care of us without showing her pain to us. She believed in ultimate happiness, she knew she was in pain but she never craved for sympathy, she would laugh about it and wouldn't even hint that she was ill. And, that is the biggest reason for me to not cry and or get sad or lose my productivity or gain sympathy from anyone, because I am my mom's daughter. She taught me how to be strong, how to fight from emotions, how to be happy even in dire situations, and how to make the most of my life. And, that's the reason when I mention my mom, I want people to understand the magnificent personality that she was and not feel sad towards me, because I am proud of my mom and want to celebrate the moments that I spent with her and not cry about the fact that I can't have her anymore. Be happy with what you have and don't cry over spilled beans is what I have learned from my mom.
Also, talking and writing about her are two different experiences altogether. When I talk about her, I keep my emotions in check so that I am not crying my eyes out, but when I write or even think to write about her, all my emotions bottled up and break all the limits and I just plainly start crying. If I were writing this blog on a paper with a pen, there would be big blotches of tears on the paper. Currently, the digital world is saving my embarrassment. I am not embarrassed for remembering my mom or crying like a child, but because my mom would never appreciate my crying. In fact, while growing up the rule was, the more you cry in front of her, the more you get the thrashings from her. I know she can see me all the time and can thrash me even from up there while sitting in heaven hahaha. Jokes apart, just recently a colleague of mine died in unexpected circumstances leaving behind him his wife and twin teenage sons. This incident refreshed the death of my parents and made me rethink all the memories. So, today finally I could gather up the courage and started writing about my mom.Writing about my mom is going to be a long post; therefore, I wisely decided to divide it into two parts.
Today, when I am writing about mummy (not mommy; predominantly mothers are called mummy in India), I first want to mention the reasons for not doing so before. It is true that writing about my mom is not an easy task as I miss her every moment and I would cry constantly as I mentioned before, but the main and the biggest reason for not writing about her is the sympathy people start showering on me when I talk about my parents. When I mention her, people feel like; awee poor girl.... she misses her mom.... awee she is sad. And, that's what I don't appreciate. I talk about her or want to write about her because I love her and I guess everyone talks about their mom for the same reason. Now, because she is not with us does not change the purpose of my talking about my mom. I want people to listen and show interest in the conversation and not sympathy. Trust me if I want sympathy I will cry and ask for it, and then you might wanna run away from this super whiny person. I know death changes everything but it didn't change my love for her, it did not fade any memories of her. Now is more the reason that I talk about her so that no one forgets her and she lives forever in everyone's memory. So, please after reading this post leave a thumbs up or share a laugh or appreciate the blog but please don't sympathize or feel sorry for me. Yes, I am sorry that I don't have her anymore, but more than sorry I am proud, glad, happy, fortunate to have her as my mom for whatever small time I had with her and no amount of sadness can change that.
My mom was born in Kore gaon (at least that's how it sounds when people pronounce the village name). She was my grandparents' (Raghunath Singhal and Bekunthi Singhal) first child. She has one younger sister and one younger brother. Mummy lost her father when she was 4 years old because of ill health. My Nanaji's (maternal-grandfather) older brother (Malook Chand Singhal, also called nanaji) took care of my nani (maternal-grandmother) and kids after my nanaji's death. He provided the family with shelter in his house and other essentials. My mom was married off to my papa (age 21) at the age of 16, on July 4, 1968 (There is no other date as important as this date to me). Although the marriage alliance is usually arranged between both families through a common friend or something, a grapevine told me that papa fell in love head over heels with my mom and made the arrangements possible ;) (winking emoticon). India is known for arranged marriages, in which the family of the boy and the girl meet and decide upon the possible alliance. During my parents' time, asking boy or girl about their preference was not even thought about. In today's age arranged marriages are still a traditional tie between families, where parents look for the suitable match, but the boy's and girl's preferences are taken into account now and many families even let boy and girl talk and understand each other before committing to each other. Yup, I know it sounds different or even weird but arranged marriages are a big part of Indian culture, and being born and brought up in a traditional family I have lived through this culture and find no fault in it.
Mummy came into a new family as the first daughter-in-law and took responsibility for taking care of my baba and amma (Panna Lal Agarwal and Triveni Agarwal; paternal- grandfather and grandmother) and chachaji and bua (paternal-aunts). Although my papa had an older half brother, he lived with his family independently, and thus my mom was considered the oldest daughter-in-law. In India, a new married couple does not start living on their own independently after they get married. A daughter-in-law after the wedding starts living with husband's family. This again is true for business families when boys join their father's business and live in the same house. Obviously, sons who work elsewhere lives independently with their wives and visit their parents or root family on holidays and important dates, like with my chachaji, in some cases parents keep alternating between all sons, like my amma did.
Being the oldest bahu (daughter-in-law) of the family, my parents had the most responsibilities but mom never complained. She took care of my amma after baba died and took responsibilities associated with all 3 bua's and chachaji's weddings happily. Meanwhile, my parents family was also expanding. Mummy gave birth to six daughters and one son. Yup, we are seven siblings. And, I have not mentioned it before, but I am the youngest daughter but older than my brother. My parents like any regular couple have seen lots of ups and downs of life. Losses in business, family problems, responsibilities of many kids, taunts of having so many daughters (especially to my mom, before my brother was born) were a regular part of my parents' life. At the same time good moments, happiness, proud feelings due to their kids, respect from family and friends made a bigger share in their life. My mom was a support pillar of the house and was the biggest strength of my papa.
Almost anyone who remembers my mom will mention that the biggest asset of my mom was her big smile, her jovial nature, her caring attitude, her boundless love for her own and others. Almost everyone talks about her good nature and her big heart. And this is important because at the same time all these people also know the sad fact that my mom was very ill due to asthma and was unable to walk a lot or do anything rigorous. When I was growing up, I have always seen her sick or in pain, but that is not what comes to my mind when I think about her. When I think about her, I see her strength, her determination, her taking care of us without showing her pain to us. She believed in ultimate happiness, she knew she was in pain but she never craved for sympathy, she would laugh about it and wouldn't even hint that she was ill. And, that is the biggest reason for me to not cry and or get sad or lose my productivity or gain sympathy from anyone, because I am my mom's daughter. She taught me how to be strong, how to fight from emotions, how to be happy even in dire situations, and how to make the most of my life. And, that's the reason when I mention my mom, I want people to understand the magnificent personality that she was and not feel sad towards me, because I am proud of my mom and want to celebrate the moments that I spent with her and not cry about the fact that I can't have her anymore. Be happy with what you have and don't cry over spilled beans is what I have learned from my mom.
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