The Sassy Sides of Sixty: The Lessons We Learned From Our Dear Mamas

Our naive mummies married young and were ill-prepared for the wifey role, much less for mummy-hood. Nonetheless, once they gave us life, henceforth, that role superseded everything and the title of “mum” was closest to their hearts; one they took very seriously and didn’t relinquish till their last breath. As kids, her constant nagging, admonishing, and the occasional thappar seemed mean. We couldn’t see the selfless love nor her intentions to protect us from pain and failure. She bubble-wrapped us and lived astutely; a role model on how to balance on life’s precarious tightrope. Nevertheless, she was human, with flaws and made her share of mistakes. So, in whichever way, our dear mummies taught us through their examples, behaviors that were beneficial and many needing modulation or, better still, to be avoided totally.

• “Anticipate and serve” was her motto, for which my children chide me; as it serves NO purpose, least of all to myself. 

• “Be kind but firm with everyone.” It’s worked reasonably well, both at home and at work.

• “If you desire a life filled with happiness, peace, and prosperity, cherish your wife and make her happiness your priority.”

• Although, I’ve taken to heart her simplicity and humility; I’m not coddling my children the way she did us.

• “Never depend on anyone and have full faith in yourself”. The financial doors will swing wide open to you. 

• She still advises me: “Ek chupp soh sukh!!” Not retorting works!

• I went the exact opposite of her; she cared too much about what society thought about her. 

• I was a withdrawn teenager, till one birthday party, she dragged me aside and said to get out there, and mingle. If I didn’t speak up and show the world who I truly was, I’d get overlooked. Needless to say, I developed the gift of gab, and haven’t stopped talking since. 

• I lost my mum at a very tender age, so it’s dad’s advice I practice. Whenever I’d cry on his shoulders because someone said or did hurtful things, he’d say “Don’t retaliate and rather, rectify your own mistakes and move on.” 

• She was a very strong determined woman—born way before her time. I learnt determination from her, but, regrettably, not her patience.  

• Cliché as it sounds, she said: “Be good; do good. Treat people with respect and compassion. Health is the real wealth. The Higher Being walks beside you, always.”

• “Since no one can read your mind, speak up and let them know whether you agree or disagree with something. If the frank honesty hurts them and they leave, then they were never meant for you. If they stay, then they’re your true friends/relatives. Treasure them.”

• Watching her, I learnt not to be meek and down-trodden. Although, of course, life doesn’t let up teaching the lessons meant for you.

• “Follow your dreams; never give up.”

• It wasn’t advice. She was a role model; she set an example and a great one. “Honesty being the best policy,” and “Work hard and see it through.”  I don’t advise my children either.

• Didn't teach anything specific but left us to learn from life. Though I don’t reflect on it and live on auto-pilot, I guess she instilled qualities through examples which were reinforced in the years in good schools in India. 

• She’d say, “Dekh parayi chaupdee; Naa tarsaye jio; Rukhi sukhi khayeye, thandaa paani piyo.” To be content with whatever we had.

• Without any hesitation or reservations about her own inconveniences or her health, even when she became frail, she’d go out of her way to help and heal, whether it was physical aid or financial assistance they needed. To her, it didn’t matter whether she knew the person well or not. Even on her deathbed, she was worrying about the welfare of the househelp. 

• The whole community used to call her “mummy,” because of her generosity to all and sundry, despite her already large family. She’d say: “There’ll never be a shortage if you give generously from the heart.”