Yesterday evening I was spending time with few elders from my father’s side. We were remembering times when we went on few pilgrimages together as a family, the summers spent at our grandfather place on the banks of Narmada, few festivals and occasions where we had no other option but to spend with the family and many more. The compulsions that were felt then helped us bond more.
He was nine when his father passed away and was survived by his 22 year old mother and a younger sister. His father worked in rice mills and sold puffed rice going village to village in a boat along the banks of Narmada. In those days there were no grocery or vegetable shops. Later he bought a small place after taking some loan and started making puffed rice and selling it. After he died his brother sold the place to pay off loans and so there was nothing left for the family. His mother had no social support as her parents passed away when she was very young and was raised by her aunt and uncle. The social norms of those times did not allow widows to come out in the open and so my great grandmother would go to the river to wash clothes and utensils after sun down.
When I heard this story I was just thinking of what she would have gone through, even today after sunset that place near the river is dark and isolated. My great grandmother did not have land to till and so for survival she did all kinds of odd jobs like making leaf plates, cleaning vessels, grinding flour etc. Sometimes she was paid one anna for an entire day’s labor. With all this hard work she could barely make ends meet and feed her son and daughter. And, so sometimes she would only feed her son thinking of him as hope for the future. Soon her daughter who was already going through some physical ailment since birth died when she was five.
I had always seen my grandfather shouting and getting angry when food was wasted. But at that time I did not know this story, where he had lost his sister because of having no food to feed her. After many years of that incident he often cried in pain and cursed my great grandmother for choosing him over her. My memories of my grandfather are not very pleasant. He was known for his temper and I remember not visiting him for months, before he died when he was not well because I had a lot of fear and prejudice in my mind.
My grandfather worked as an accountant with Indian railways with honesty. He could not buy a home of his own but he made sure that all his children including a daughter studied well. I never understood his reasons of agony and complained but it was only yesterday that I could relate to his hardship. He was definitely not born with things that I saw with my limited comprehension about him as an individual.
In the opening circle of Gandhi 3.0, I had shared that my ancestors have done all the hard work and I am just eating the fruits of the seeds that they had sown. It is now that I am able to realize the intensity of what it really meant and is helping me practice more and more humbleness.
He was nine when his father passed away and was survived by his 22 year old mother and a younger sister. His father worked in rice mills and sold puffed rice going village to village in a boat along the banks of Narmada. In those days there were no grocery or vegetable shops. Later he bought a small place after taking some loan and started making puffed rice and selling it. After he died his brother sold the place to pay off loans and so there was nothing left for the family. His mother had no social support as her parents passed away when she was very young and was raised by her aunt and uncle. The social norms of those times did not allow widows to come out in the open and so my great grandmother would go to the river to wash clothes and utensils after sun down.When I heard this story I was just thinking of what she would have gone through, even today after sunset that place near the river is dark and isolated. My great grandmother did not have land to till and so for survival she did all kinds of odd jobs like making leaf plates, cleaning vessels, grinding flour etc. Sometimes she was paid one anna for an entire day’s labor. With all this hard work she could barely make ends meet and feed her son and daughter. And, so sometimes she would only feed her son thinking of him as hope for the future. Soon her daughter who was already going through some physical ailment since birth died when she was five.
I had always seen my grandfather shouting and getting angry when food was wasted. But at that time I did not know this story, where he had lost his sister because of having no food to feed her. After many years of that incident he often cried in pain and cursed my great grandmother for choosing him over her. My memories of my grandfather are not very pleasant. He was known for his temper and I remember not visiting him for months, before he died when he was not well because I had a lot of fear and prejudice in my mind.
My grandfather worked as an accountant with Indian railways with honesty. He could not buy a home of his own but he made sure that all his children including a daughter studied well. I never understood his reasons of agony and complained but it was only yesterday that I could relate to his hardship. He was definitely not born with things that I saw with my limited comprehension about him as an individual.
In the opening circle of Gandhi 3.0, I had shared that my ancestors have done all the hard work and I am just eating the fruits of the seeds that they had sown. It is now that I am able to realize the intensity of what it really meant and is helping me practice more and more humbleness.
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