Ma, Mommy, Mother – Ankahi. Unsaid.

Suratgarh sojourn

June 21, 2026Posted in Culture and Heritage, Ma, Mommy, Mother, Of Family & FriendsTagged 2026, family, fiction, life, Love, Ma, Massi, memories, rajasthan, Sisters, Suratgarh, writingLeave a comment

Sisters share more than just the mother – they share memories, morsels and mirth. As sisters age together they share bodily pains and aches, develop identical creases on their faces and near-similar throbbing blue veins under wrinkled skins in which the biological code of generations is embedded. Well past their nineties, sisters start looking like identical twins with similar, puzzling faces. Their toothless smiles and groggy grunts sound so much alike that their own children can confuse one for the other. When they huddle together with faces covered, their own sons falter in picking the Mother from the Massi.

Only when I looked closely did I find that my massi had slightly broader nails on her long dainty fingers. Ma’s fingernails were naturally manicured into perfect rounded shapes, she rarely filed them, rounded the tips or even applied nail enamel. Earlier in life Ma would chew nails when anxious.

Having lost my mother six weeks ago, I am here in Suratgarh to see my Massi who is Ma’s immediate older sibling. Having been privy to their phone calls, thrice a day for over two decades, I can vouch that the attachment between two sisters who lived past ninety is a rare, beautiful masterpiece shaped by nearly a century of shared existence. Their connection transcends words, relying on a silent, comforting telepathy built over nine decades. They are living mirrors for one another, anchoring each other to reality and providing a unique comfort that nobody else can duplicate. Massi threw up her hands and cried for an hour upon seeing me. It was very difficult to control her and I wanted her to pour out the grief.

Ma and Massi shared a private universe of memories (from Jhang, Lahore, Rohtak and Patna), remembering the same childhood home, their parents, and the trials of the Partition era that we have only read about in history books. For years their bond provided an unmatched sense of emotional security, offering each other a safe harbour where they could be themselves: ‘Sisters Without Pretense’.

Meeting Sarla Massi was something I owed my mother and myself—a plan that couldn’t materialize because of Ma’s detriorating health. Meeting her favourite nephew (me), massi is at peace and I too feel at peace when I stand in front of Ma’s photo. ‘Ma, we met her, Sarla auntie is fine.’ In this poignant picture from the 50s, the sisters share a special moment with their Mom, my Nani, Chandravati. And the other picture is of Sarla auntie and her hands from a few days ago. This is the last piece of our Suratgarh sojourn.

Memento Mori

June 8, 2026Posted in Art, Ma, Mommy, MotherTagged 2026, Dentures, Ma, memoriesLeave a comment

This is a new Paperweight. It will weigh heavily on my heart until I live. That’s precisely what it is supposed to do and vibe every time I look at it or hold it in my hand. This is my Memento Mori. This reminds me how helpless a senior or elderly person feels when their denture no longer fits as their jaw and body shrink. A child’s toothless smile may be something people talk about but it feels terrible when a lady looks at herself in private, in the mirror. This must remind me that without teeth or a denture, one salivates less-and-less, which in turn means one cannot enjoy or even properly taste food. This must drive home the point that without this fitted in the mouth there is no chewing, even of semi-solids. This is Ma’s denture. Ma left without this, she hadn’t used it for the last four months of her life… Since I couldn’t discard it this adds to my memory of hers. This, her lower denture, now a piece of art created collectively by the four of us, is set in epoxy. This has Ma’s name etched on it under the left molar.

Ma's dentures which she couldn't use during the last four five months of her life — oplus_1048608

आज रंग है ऐ माँ, रंग है री / अमीर खुसरो

March 30, 2026Posted in Delhi, Ma, Mommy, Mother, Of Family & FriendsTagged Amir_Khusro, Colours, Ma, Nizzamuddin_AuliyaLeave a comment

ये तस्वीर होली के दिन की है । एक रात पहले उनकी तबीयत ठीक नहीं थी। उस सुबह भी वो देर से ही उठीं । दोपहर हो चली थी और वक़्त निकला जा रहा था। हम तय नहीं कर पा रहे थे कि उन्हें जगायें या नहीं, रंग लगाएं या नहीं इतने में उनकी पोती चाँदनी ने आ कर माथे पर टीका सा लगा दिया। उन्हें उठा कर बिठाया गया तो भी आँखें बंद कर और सर को पीछे झुका कर माँ कुछ इस तरह से मग्न थीं जैसे शायद कभी अमीर खुसरो रहे होंगे, अपने पीर-ओ-मुरशिद हज़रत निज़ामुद्दीन औलिया को याद करते हुए या फिर खुसरो समा मे रहे होंगे जब उन्होंने “आज रंग है ऐ माँ रंग है री” कव्वाली पहली बार अपने मुरशद के सामने गुनगुनाई होगी। उस रोज़ खुसरो ने खुद को और दुनिया को उस रूहानी रंग में रंगा हुआ देखा होगा जैसे तब मैं देख रहा था। माँ भी समा में ही थीं – दुनिया-जहान से बेसुध, बेखबर – ऐसी बेखबर कि उन्हें मेरी आवाज़ “आज रंग है री” भी नहीं सुनाई दी ।

“मैं पीर पायो निजामुद्दीन औलिया”, अमीर खुसरो ने रूहानी रंग से भरी ये कव्वाली भी अपने पीर को मिलने की खुशी में लिखी थी, इस होली को मैंने भी समझा कि शायद माँ भी उसे सुन कर खुश हो जाएँ सो मैंने भी गा दी। सूफी परंपराओं ये कवालियाँ निजामुद्दीन औलिया की दरगाह पर आज भी गाई जाती है। गुड़गाँव, होली, 4 मार्च 2026