Takia Gujran- no more

4.
Takia Gujran ‘no more’

Unlike MBA today, the then profession of dignity was engineering or medicine. So Balwant, Rattan and Anish mamas all did engineering ‘one way or another’.
Balwant the eldest and Kamlesh’s husband were both ‘Dam men’ who were living and constructing the big projects at Bhakra Nangal and then Talwara, harnessing the waters of Punjab in India’s first few 5 year plans after Independence, finally settling at the upcoming new township Panchkula,a beautiful satellite town near Chandigarh.

Anish came much later, both my mother and her mother Bhabi delivering babies close together when my 2nd sister Sunita and he, the youngest child to Bhabi were born. I never ever saw my nana and nani (Bhabi) together except when she was cooking on the Chulha (fireplace of wooden logs) and he was eating in the kitchen which we all did one or two at a time, sitting on the ‘Pidi’ (low chair) and ‘Tipahi’ the small copper tripod stool. How that got her pregnant all the time I cannot fathom.
Anish being our contemporary moved to Delhi under the guidance of my father, Babuji, who always was the intellectual and academic guide for both sides of my families. He joined Indian Airlines and settled here.

My favourite mama is Rattan mamaji. Thinking about him I feel immensely sad because today he is inflicted with severe Multiple joint Arthritis and is almost immobile living his days at Ludhiana. He is the son who actually looked after my grandparents’ long last difficult years with their Physical, mental and financial inadequacies and requirements. He is the man who earned little, as a civil engineer but has been the largest hearted to spend on all others, the Karta-Dharta (do-er) for the whole family for all big and small occasions. He carried through all the rituals of multiple marriages, births, sicknesses; he was where something needed to be done for some body. His wife Usha cooked and ‘played’ companion with him. Each of his visits meant he had bagfuls under his arms, Sweetest Mithai for Babuji from Chowra Bazar, Best Mangoes for Jhai, fancy stuff for the kids and Balloons for any toddlers. He has been the most affectionate mama, relating to adults and kids alike and forming a strong Bridge between the generations.
Rattan mamaji has truly been the ‘Rattan’ (jewel) of the family.

Bhabis’ big red house(Actually Nana’s) was sold when it seemed dangerous to live in any more, for a meager price and in its place, a small one acquired near the courts where nanaji worked. This is where they died and Rattan mamaji lives, in disputed conditions now. The town’s Vakil (Advocate) left a strange ‘Will’, one room to each son. None other needs the room, nor has the dignity to let go of it for Rattan mamaji who lives in a portion on 1st floor, even difficult for him to climb.

In all this, no one feels like going to my Nani’s house any more, for ‘She’ is no more. She, who used to be up before Sunrise, broomed and washed the house, got the 24 hour Chulha going for all to be fed. She had also fed the Cow, milked her, churned the Lassi for the Chhachh, the Butter and the Ghee. At ‘her’ end of the day, when the Moon had long been up, she would come with Glasses full of warm milk making us all gulp it down though we were half asleep.

Birju her cousin from Mullapur would drop-in some-times bringing a sackful of Kharboojas, Mangoes and News from the village. Who had died, who lived how, rousing her emotions of sadness and glee, thinking of years before, when she had become a bride at 14 to care for Nana and his many siblings, then her offspring, then their offspring.

I inhale deep, as if to inhale ‘my Ludhiana’ and then slowly, try to let go as if to let go of that past which remains vibrant within me and part of me.

Veena