Friday 4 January 2019

A Tribute to a Good Woman: Amma

Kisi ki muskurahaton pe ho nisaar

Kisi ka dard mil sake toh le utha
Kisi ke waaste ho tere dil mein pyaar
Jeena issi ka naam hai

This song played often on our trusty old tape recorder from a collection of Mukesh songs.  When it was done, my mother would rewind it and play it again. It was one of her favourites.

Amma was a simple woman, beautiful and full of grace. Anyone who visited our home would remember her as a wonderful cook and a gracious host. In the days when Masterchef was unheard of she would scour magazines and learn new cuisines. When Udupi had not even heard of it she was baking her own cakes, making ketchups and jams, knew multiple other cuisines and of course cooked all the traditional fare with flair. 

She would sew lovely dresses for us, teach us to do craft, tend a very big garden and visit temples regularly. I did not appreciate all the activities she did back then, but as I open the fridge door these days and stare at the contents to figure out the dish I can make with the least amount of effort, I realise how active and enterprising she really was. 

She loved us, her three daughters and husband, deeply, with all her heart; we were truly the centre of her universe. 

Her philosophies in life were quite simple; be good and be caring. 

Her discipline was stern, yet gentle; her three daughters, heck even our dog, never crossed her firm chiding. 

Kindness was her most extraordinary quality and her biggest strength. She would not even say a harsh word to anyone, not even to those who were deliberately malicious. ‘God is there, he will take care’, she would say, sometimes infuriating the young, hot-blooded version of me. 

She was generous. She never refused to help anyone who asked and those that didn't; not even to voiceless creatures. Occasionally my sisters and I would bring back various injured furry and feathery friends  from our garden and she would nurse them with infinite tenderness, even though she perhaps knew they stood no chance. 
                        
As the youngest, I clung onto her, followed her wherever she went and I could never get enough of her. The sound of the two thin gold bangles on her wrist, was the earliest and most comforting sounds that I sought, as I sat and played around in our home as a toddler and she went about her chores. The sight of her and giving her a warm hug was enough to melt any of my grown-up stresses away. 

She was my first, most-enduring and deepest love!


******

Eight years ago when she was diagnosed with ALS, it turned our whole world upside down. Being with her, as she suffered through her illness, the helplessness and the despair of it, was an emotionally violent and turbulent exercise for us. Yet, through it all she kept her grace. 

As for me, suddenly all those clichéd lines, about life and living well, about what really mattered and what didn’t, were suddenly real and matters that I started to give deep thought to.

When we lost her, seven years ago, it seemed so unfair. We had struggled through so many challenges as a family. After making all three of us into strong, independent, positive young women (of course, half the credit went to my father too), this was her time to relax and reap the benefits of her labour of love. But she was gone, much too soon, at sixty.  I fell into a deep depression.

To make matters worse, I found myself in the absolutely worst place that I could have been at, in my career! 

From designing AI neural networks in my engineering days, to coding software in Infosys, getting an MBA from ISB, I had finally gone to driving mindless consumption through business. It wasn’t a failure from a career path stand-point. It was great progression and I was earning good money.

But for the person that I am and from all that I had learned from the experience of being a care-taker to my mother, it was a spectacular failure, and a waste of precious days on this planet!
  
When I had been miserable for long enough, I decided I had to do something. It takes courage to admit failure, but it takes greater courage to step out of the comfort of the beaten path and carve your own. But it had to be done. Bolstered by the support of my ever-patient and pragmatic husband, I quit the rat-race in 2014.


****

A month after I quit, I sat down and wrote down some life goals, not a bucket list, but goals. One of them was to craft a tribute to the incredibly good woman who shaped my life so beautifully. (the other goals are irrelevant here but I am pursuing them)

"Create something to celebrate Amma's kindness. Help a thousand people" 

This was one of the goals. I had no idea how I would achieve it!

They say, not all who wander are lost. But I surely was! 

I needed to heal, I needed to get over my depression. I needed to take all reflection from my grief and loss and turn it into something positive. And I needed to find my own way to move on. From this nebulous haze of self-doubt, fear, confusion there was only one way forward; take it one good step at a time. 

Every day I willed myself to get up and do one positive action. “One good step”, became my philosophy first and slowly took the shape of a not-for-profit organization (NGO) a few months later.

On, Dec 28th 2014, four years after I had spent her last birthday with my mother, I launched One Good Step to the world.

At first, I started out like an expert management graduate would, metrics, business model (for the lack of a better term), chasing social venture funding and everything else I had learned at B-school. It went nowhere. The turning point came in a shed with a couple of dozen hungry street children. They did not give a damn about all the intellectualisation I was doing. They just needed help! 

From that day I put aside all I had learned, put in some of my own money and just started doing good work. I followed my own instincts and listened to those I sought to serve, about what they needed.

One Good Step (OGS), since then has, has taken me to places that I had never ventured before; to the slums that I always saw from the corner of my eye and ignored, to villages where hopes and dreams are crushed for the want of a few rupees and into the uniquely challenging world of the differently-abled and into experiences of the victims of the dark underbelly of our world where humanity ceases to exist.



Four years hence, through varied initiatives, OGS has touched the lives of over 6500+ people!

For around 650 people, the effect has been life-changing; like restoring their vision or bringing street children into schools or helping patients with life threatening illness to get treatment.

For the rest it has addressed a specific problem: lack of essential infrastructure in schools, poor academic performance, night-time electricity for students, healthcare access, scholarships, career opportunities and more.
Through a corporate volunteering program that OGS designed, over 21000+ students have been screened for eye defects. This was our most successful collaboration, with Sankara Hospital. This program has since then grown in leaps and bounds, way beyond us, and has been independently adopted by organizations like Infosys, Titan and others.    

OGS also slowly and surely taken shape and form, evolved and grown into a fully-funtioning and robust NGO. (www.facebook.com/onegoodstep)



****

All of this matters to me, not because I want to blow my own trumpet, but because it seems surreal sometimes, it is hard to believe. Even in my wildest imagination, I could not have thought I would come so far from where I started. It humbles me, as much as it fills my heart with contentment and deep satisfaction.

This journey, for all its struggles and frustrations, has brought me in touch with extraordinarily generous souls, long out-of-touch friends, peers in the space who also do phenomenal work, individuals with big hearts in small huts and tents (and vice versa) and most importantly with myself.

I have been privileged to be of service to those who we call the under-privileged or victims and witness their grit, resilience, hopes and determination.

I have unlearned (a lot!) and learned (from the most unusual teachers), I make more responsible choices and have developed a different perspective on my own life and blessings.

I have persisted, despite many personal and work challenges, that threatened to weaken my intent or hamper my efforts. It has, undoubtedly, been the most arduous journey of my spirit and will power. 

Every time I stumbled I picked myself up and kept moving on, one good step at a time.   

But in the end, all I have really done is to take my mother’s most distinctive trait, kindness and my own grief in her loss, and created something beautiful. 

Amma would be silently proud of this, but chide me if I got too cocky about it and insist that I stay humble; (Dont worry Mommy, I am :))   

Today, after I have gone way beyond the life goal I had set for myself, I recognize that this has grown beyond me and there is a lot to do. I hope that in the years to come I can do justice to OGS and continue serving with humility. 

I thought long and hard before sharing this story. It is very personal. (My sisters have done their own great work, but I am certain they will never publish it.) But I share it in the hope that it can impart the confidence to anyone who has been challenged by life in their own way. 

Yes, life will be hard and unfair. Your only choice in the matter is how you craft your own responses to whatever life throws at you. 

My mother taught me to live true to myself, to love deeply, to genuinely care, to serve and to be humble. She showed by example how to take whatever life throws at you and emerge stronger, how to be unafraid  of darkness  and to continue to seek light. How to forgive those who hurt you and help those who are hurting. 

This is my tribute to a very good woman who taught me all I needed to know about living and loving.

After all...

Jeena issi ka naam hai!

Love you Ma, to the moon and back!