Takia Gujran-maternal Ancestors

3. Takia Gujran

I returned to re-live with parents around age 6.
But Bhabi remained my first mother and Ludhiana ‘my home’.
All the summer vacations were spent there and all important family functions in between. We traveled 3rdclass ladies compartment. The arrival of ‘Khanna’ station meant Ludhiana was not far. I could feel the excitement in my limbs and blood gushing to my cheeks every time I saw the chimney of a mill, a dilapidated building probably an Industrial unit or lots of typical Sardar cycle-rickshaw walas huddled across a railway gate as our train went past. The familiar crowd, the familiar shops outside the station, the 2 cinema halls Naulakha and Rikhee on two sides of the road, Nanu halvai with mouth watering Kachauri-aaloo (special bread and potato curry), Dr.Om Prakash’s clinic, the sweatshop with multiple multicolor jars and then the Chowk, Takia Gujran. The Rickshaw would swing right and there we were. My legs shaky I would jump the ‘Thara’ (front step), run in, past Bai’s ‘Dyodi’ (front entrance hall) and reach the Verandah (central courtyard). I would then suddenly stop, peeping through the Brick Jharokhas (lattice) into the Kitchen, hoping I could hide and Bhabi could seek but she already saw and ran out ----then there was the ‘HUG’ the ‘HUG’ and giggles from me, from her, and every one else. She hugged all of us but the one that mattered to me was the one that was mine, the one that sustained me through life, through life---- till August of ’96 when she passed away after breaking her hip and being bed-ridden for 2+ years at about 90, mentally more alert than any but unable to write ‘Poorni devi’ for me any more.

I had started going to an English School around 4. Raj Masi was 2nd of the sisters after mother. She was the best and most versatile in household affairs. She was doing a course in knitting, stitching and embroidery. I became her ‘Model’. She would dress me in the daintiest of clothes, shoes, put ribbons in my hair and feed me roti with Mango when I acted tough with Bhabi. Through the years, even now after she had 2 sons and no daughter, treats me like her own, buying little Earrings and Gold chains for the neck for me, rather than her daughter-in-laws, although I am not the a Jewelry lover.

It was said that she had the best complexion, eyes, nose, lips, body, and qualities that my Nana attributed to get a ‘good prospective groom’. He could not find ‘that’ groom and began to lie about her age to her embarrassment. Finally he agreed to tie the Knot to Gyan Uncle of Nabha who was really Ugly but fitted the criteria of ‘a Post graduate with enough money and small family i.e. ‘no mother in law living’, as my mother’s mother in law i.e. My dadi had been lots of unhappiness for my mother.

I changed my opinion of his ugliness when he started talking about Dickens, Little women, Rebecca and other literary ‘heroes’ of my mind of that time. I even wrote some letters to him as he was English MA and that was ‘good’ by me. When I got admission at medical college, Patiala, Nabha was 17 miles away and often I would go there from the hostel to spend the weekend when I felt home sick. He was a man of refined taste and would like to have Kidney and Steak on toast for Breakfast and fancy non-veg and veg sumptuous layouts for meals.

Raj aunty was quite miserable there. From her stories it seemed he was harsh and mean to her and even physically beat her when she did not come up to his expectations or his 2 sisters’. Once when she was pregnant he had slapped her and she secretly wished God would punish him for it. Many years later Gyan uncle had a seizure due to Brain tumor, due to which he fractured his right arm. He is no more, but she still harbors the guilt for having wished ‘the wish’ she did. After all he had ‘provided’ for her and fathered her 2 sons.

When I returned from USA, I had brought a Jetta Volkswagen car. Foreign cars were not so much on the roads yet. He loved and admired it and would ask me all kinds of intricate questions about its engine, the answers of which I did not know. After a few months when I visited him, he looked at me and laughed an embarrassed laugh and said, “ I recognize that car and you are familiar but I can’t really place you”---- .The Cancer was fast replacing the finest neurons of his brain and tears began to roll down my cheeks. I the Psychiatrist put my arm around his waist and took him inside the house.

He did not live long but being one of the senior, long loyal employees with the Thapars, he left Raj aunty financially secure for the remaining years. This was the least ‘due’ to her after the long difficult ‘life’ she had experienced, leaving her emotionally unstable to say the least.

Amar Nath Wadhera in his recent Book ‘Aey Mao, Behno, Betiyo’ writes “Watan walo isey tum bekas-o-majboor mat samjho/Yehi aurat kisi din mulk ki tasveer badlegi.”

Veena