The Greatest Great Grand Mother

We were privileged. As children we had plenty of loving hearts, caring minds and soothing hands to tend to us. Turn to one or the other- there was always a tender bosom and gentle caress as balm to our minor worries and hurts. Yes, those were the days of ideal and extended families…….

Grandmothers, the matriarchs were the anchoring force that held drifting youth and warring women firmly secured to the hearth and home. Their unconditional love bound people together and forged a family into one loving unit that enjoyed and sorrowed as one man.

But grandmothers these days can be found mostly in old-age homes, fending alone for themselves or relegated to the dark corners, denied of their rightful place and position. So, I invite you to take a peek into the world of grandmothers……those spent forces that have given everything they possessed to make you and me what we are today!

She was a frail pretty lady bent under the weight of her age, but filled the house with her quiet presence and calm yet dignified ways. She was Aboli, my great grandmother, whom I had the good fortune of knowing in my own childish ways only for a few years at the beginning of my life.

Her husband, Bernard Kamath was known to be a handsome towering personality and beside her huge knight, Aboli looked the dainty little bloom that she really was! But if looks could ever be deceptive, they were in this case- I have heard it said that she ruled her large family with an iron hand hidden in that gentle touch. The large man in her life had a large heart too and would have donated even the shirt off his back if not for the firm restraining hand behind him. Not that she was uncharitable, living next to the church provided ample opportunities for reaching out to the church and the needy.

Though all of us loved ‘Aboli Mai’, few of us knew that her real name was not Aboli and till this day none of us of the fourth generation ever felt the need to know her real name, for us she will always remain the sweet Aboli mai she was to the family. Even my father and his siblings addressed her by that name apart from the dozens of his cousins, nieces, nephews…..!

As a result of education and employment in the premier cities of the country, parents in my family were addressed according to the legacy of our erstwhile white rulers. So that left the endearing term of ‘mai’ to be bestowed on the grandmothers both of who were the embodiment of love and concern for the littlest members of the family. If the grandmother was a ‘mai’ what would her mother be? Not one contemporary of mine would distort it into ‘big mai’ or ‘small mai’! So ‘Aboli Mai’ it was, the name that fitted the personality perfectly.

Often the mix-up in forms of addressal was the rule of the day, since aunts, uncles, nephews and nieces were contemporaries and no form of salutation would measure the deep bond that existed between them. But the name ‘Aboli mai’ remained unmoved and unchanged; she was a grandmother to all! As an Octogenarian, she moved around the house alert and observant of the situations, risen out of catering to the diverse needs of the vast family. Her eldest daughter, my own grandmother turned out to be a chip of the old block, sensitive and patient to the point of being a living saint!

Sometimes it dawns on me that my love for all things in nature must come from that one gene passed on to me by these two beloved grandmothers of mine. Both had green thumbs, planted saplings in the vast properties they owned and lived in cottages that were airy and open to the sun. The use of earthenware vessels on woodstoves produced the most delicious food I have ever tasted in my life- both were cooks par excellance! The image of Aboli Mai sitting on her haunches on the vast verandah of the house, enjoying her red-rice and fish curry from her ‘Malthi’, while the steady drizzle outside sprinkled her with a few drops of water as though in blessings, is etched in my mind till this day!

Much later, after her demise I learnt the origins of this name. It seems, to distinguish her from the other grand mothers, she was named, ‘Abageli Mai’( grandmother from grandfather’s house) which on young inexperienced tongues evolved into the present short form! When the June wind rustles the Jackfruit leaves on the huge tree next to the house, it is a reminder to all of us that a great spirit lived and died in this house all those years ago! May her soul rest in peace!
- Vera Alvares