Happy Birthday, Mom!

I remember your laughter, how you’d smile mischievously and then the smile would broaden and then burst into peels of laughter. I remember your quietness, how you’d go so far away in your thoughts with a lost look in your eyes. I never knew what you thought of or what you saw in your visions, I was just glad to see a silent reassurance in your smile when I called out for you.

I remember your anger, how you’d all of a sudden go so silent on me. No word spoken or any frustrations shown just complete silence even when serving out the dinner to me. I remember your disappointments, how you’d try to still be a part of my changing life which had somehow outgrown your need in everything. You would still be there, telling me about your day and hoping I share about mine but be left disappointed every other time.

I remember your strength, how you would without a trace of worry in your face go about things bravely even in the most vulnerable times. I never knew it until the day I was a witness to it. You must be glad to know perhaps how much of that strength sister has imbibed from you. There is so much of you in her. She's making you and all of us proud.

I remember your fear, how you held onto me once and told me how afraid you were of what would happen to you. I was ill-prepared to react. That was the first time I realized you were not as strong as you’d show to us. I was scared to know that here was someone whose mere presence drove all my nightmares away and even she had fears. It was one of those rare moments when I came to realize that you were after all human with all the emotions and feelings a human could feel. It was one of those days when I realized that you too needed to be held, to be heard, to be seen, to be hugged, to be pampered, to be spoiled and to be sometimes chided and teased as well.

I hope and pray, god is pampering and spoiling you up there, as we silently celebrate your birthday today, in our own quiet ways, the way you lived your life. Don’t be sad or worry if you see us missing you once in a while. We need those moments to feel your presence in our lives. Even though we know you’d always be there with your arms around our shoulders, guiding us and letting us know we will be fine.

I Was Born

9 March, 4:02 am
I was born exactly at this time, nearly three decades ago, in a small village in Manipur. Mom had not been keeping well for few months and was weak during my birth. Maibi (or dais - traditional birth attendants/midwives) was being sent for when she went into labour. But before her arrival I popped out of my mother's womb surrounded by anxious relatives. The house was humble and with too many people living in it, my mother was moved to a makeshift room during the later stage of her pregnancy. The verandah to the right side of the house, a shelter for people to sit in during festivities and/or ceremonies, was converted into an extra room with kitchen for mom's convenience.

It was Holi. The town would soon be seen reveling in the festivities. But there was double the reason for celebration in our house. Father, who was with the army, was promptly informed of my birth. He was posted in Jammu and Kashmir at that time. When the news reached him, he was out collecting snow for boiling drinking water. He says he threw the container away and ran like a madman to receive the call.

I am the only one who was born in my hometown in a remote village, Sugnu. So, besides my mother's milk I was fed on chabon - a starchy liquid formed during the process of cooking rice in a pot. When the water begins to dry, the starchy liquid is collected from the top and after adding a pinch of salt it is fed to the baby. It was a poor man's cerelac! My brother and sister would sometimes gang up on me saying I am a lawai macha (a gawar or dehati - a village bumpkin) while they were born in cities and grew up on cerelac! The teasing bit was also because I could not speak my mother tongue - Manipuri properly. It was more crude and rustic. It's another thing I still can't!

Despite our different circumstances and the different environment we were born in , we have somehow managed to turn out good. And despite leaving our hometowns for studies then work, staying together then separately, we are still connected.

And as today I think of where life has brought me and how much it has shaped and moulded me through the years, I find myself celebrating my birth with these two wonderful beings I call family.

With our celebrations I rejoice and remember and miss the person who gave life to us, knowing somehow that a corner of the Heaven must be celebrating with us too...