It must have been incredibly difficult and  scary. To appear confident and composed  when the heart is hammering away, and yet she did it.  Mum, with her government school grammar, who learnt her alphabets in sixth,  got married in  twelfth and had three kids by the age of twenty four. My petite mum who, as dad loves to say, stopped growing before she reached five feet. She had never left her home unaccompanied, never seen a plane up close,  never stayed at a hotel, never ordered a meal.  And yet, she stepped out of her comfort zone and made the journey of her life, knowing that if she faltered or showed self doubt, she’d be asked to stay.

Much younger than her two brothers, she had led a comfortably sheltered life and was  my grandfather’s favourite. He was very proud of mum  who was the first girl matriculate in the neighbourhood. Some of his pride was ill founded because mum didn’t score as well as she claimed and grandfather being illiterate had no way of knowing. When dad went to ‘see’ her, grandfather proudly showed her result cards,”All firsts” he said , pointing to what were actually lowly second class grades. Dad, inquiringly looked at mum and she silently pleaded not to divulge the truth. I like to think that, as their eyes met,  love happened because before he left dad quietly told mum that he would marry her.

They married and dad, a veterinarian, joined the state government. After being shuttled to the remotest parts of Madhya Pradesh a couple of times, he decided that the only way to a better life was by higher education from a western  university. This was in 1966 when foreign travel was virtually unheard of specially in the strata of society and part of the country they belonged. Dad qualified for  a scholarship in Mc Gill university and was determined to go. Mum had her reservations because her friend had been deserted by her husband in a similar manner. But dad  prevailed and  left  for his masters. Heartbroken, Mum learnt typing and shorthand to become self reliant in case dad decided  not to return. Two years later when he thought of pursuing a PhD  dad asked her if she wanted to join him  or wait it out in India. Mum immediately recognised this as a great opportunity for  us kids.

 And so she flew to Montreal, on a wing and a prayer,  three bawling children in tow, armed with just her grit and ten phrase English. The low cost airline had an overnight layoff at London. Too scared to take the elevator and too timid to use the room phone, she made three trips down six flights of stairs  to get us milk and biscuits, the only thing she recognised on the menu. In her limited English she knew bread but not sandwiches! Once there, she quickly overcame the language barrier and readily adapted to an alien land. To supplement dad’s stipend she started working  in his lab and later, when her confidence grew, as a receptionist  in the student centre. And I believe that if dad’s resolve changed his destiny then mum’s courage changed ours. For those few  formative years spent in Canada steered the course of our lives. 

 Meri Ma, the impish  prankster, who had the cheek to fool her dad and  the pluck to dream for her children. Truly, with the birth of a baby a mother is born who has the power to do unlikely things.

(published in the Tribune on 12/5/2015)