DECEMBER SADNESS

 

Every year like clockwork, around mid-December, the melancholia sets in. Along with the winter chill, a cold dread infuses my heart and my mind becomes numb to any warm emotion. For many years I wondered why this happened. Was it S.A.D (Seasonal Affliction Disorder) or was I just sad? And then it hit me like a thunderbolt- the last call I got from Amma was on the 15^th of December 2011- a week before she passed away.

She was so frail, so down but still with her gasping breath she made the effort to dial my number and call me. I listened to her, a thing I never did without interruption or contradiction when she was hale and hearty, and felt a nameless dread come over me.

I knew, in my bones I knew, the end was near. And there was nothing I could do to prevent it from happening. And every year, without fail around the same time, the loss of Amma reaches out and wraps my body mind and soul in its sad embrace…

Amma became very lonely towards the end of her life and that is the imprint she left on my heart. It dawned on me that one can laugh, joke, be surrounded by loved ones but sometimes there are places within us where the darkness remains and no warmth can penetrate. Amma’s life was not cosy, especially towards the end. As her health failed and she was confined to her bedroom watching T.V and connecting to people over the phone, her isolation grew….

I was so lucky to have her as a mother- I realize that now. She was the footprint I wanted to plant my feet in. She was fearless, feisty and always had something to say. Did I inherit that? Maybe in small dribs and drabs but in her I saw a woman who tried so hard- with family, with friends, with the poor, with strangers and yet when she died despite her constant reaching out to people she felt so alone….

So, when I feel that sense of isolation I resist the urge to reach out to others. Amma’s life taught me one thing- that connection to others is important but nothing is more important than the connection to one’s self…I need to nurture that flame within rather than use it only to shed light or share warmth with others.

 Amma had a large heart and yet it was the very same heart that gave up on her. Our heart has to connect with our own body, mind and soul before it links to others. We come first – and that was the diktat Amma never followed- she placed all else before her…

Goodbye Kamala my dearest Amma- I hope this strange sadness I feel every December slowly fades away. It has been eleven years since you last spoke to me. The bond will always remain between us but it is time to let the sadness go. I have to change my role- from being only defined as a mother, wife, daughter and sister or friend- I will first be me, the main protagonist in my own life until the curtains come down.

And that is a lesson I have learned watching your life Amma. Rest in peace- you live on and are loved in the many hearts you touched.

Your loving daughter,

Nimmou

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LIFE IS LIKE A WASHING MACHINE…

Our lives are much like a washing machine…. We are all at different junctures of the cycle and yet we have enough common ground to keep our life cycle going without pressing STOP or CANCEL, unless we want to or have to…

When we are thick into the spin cycle and it seems the circle of pain and misery will keep us tossing around endlessly, we look at others who are in the final whirl- ready to go to the dryer and be hung out but still clinging on to hope and faith. Those are the aged, the infirm and yes, our old parents…tossed around in life with every drop of moisture being squeezed out of them but never giving up till it is time for the eternal STOP.

 As for our kids? Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat- the water of life keeps pouring on their heads- jobs, marriage, their kids, society, peer pressure and yes, old parents and they too get tossed around the same cycle with no STOP in sight…

 If we could just embrace where we are at the cycle, go through each stage and know that in the end like the laundry load we will be clean when we come to rest and when we are hung out to dry we may still be able to cherish the last glimpse of the beautiful world outside.

 Even if we find that we are tossed into the dryer with a sheet of lint- we still have one more cycle, one more journey, one more revolution to go through before the final STOP.

 Perspective folks – look for that silver lining, that spoonful of detergent, the fragrant fabric softener, that hardy sheet of lint and know this- for every beginning there is an end…just enjoy the ride!

 

Nimmou Nilakantan

August 22^nd 2022

MOTHER’S DAY MUSINGS….

 

Being a Mother is the toughest job on earth they say…

 

Firstly, it is NOT a job – a calling, a blessing, a gift, a spiritual journey, a pain in the ass but definitely NOT a job! There is no 9-5 and it is all work from home. Long before Covid struck and sent the world and its workforce into a collective moan about having to work from home – our Moms were doing just that! They were on call 24/7 and none of them were on Zoom.

 

There was no pay or big fat bonus for their work nor any days off to jet into the Maldives and post on Instagram that letting down of hair and hanging out with buddies…full time Moms got no pay, no vacay and an endless run of bad hair days. Forget letting it down – it remained a crow’s nest till baby took its first steps and after that it lay in forlorn bunches in the bathroom drain as Mom ran after her toddler. And, just when it regained its former luster and bounce the first pimple appeared and the cycle was on START once again…

 

‘Old Age’ and ‘full time’  Moms had it tough compared to the ‘New Age’ Mom also known by her many monikers – Super woman, master juggler, career girl, time management guru, multi-tasker par excellence, media savvy and sourcing the best help during working hours, genius. Old age Mom also multi-tasked but alas without a title, pay or media support she had to find comfort where she could.

 

 She cooked (no Swiggy, Zomato, Door dash or cook/nanny reporting for daily duty) cleaned, cribbed, comforted, counselled, co-ordinated – the list of ‘C’s’ were endless but she would never get the title of CEO – title poor but work rich!

 

And yet, when this generation of kids brought up by these ‘jobless’ mothers became super successful in their chosen field and multi-billionaires they first invariably thanked their Moms and expressed their heartfelt gratitude and love for this one person whose love and nurturing made it possible.

 

Today I am proud that my sons became kind and loving humans and successful working professionals (if I had a daughter, ditto!) I did not work when they were growing up – to me being a Mom was hard work and yes there were days when I would fall apart at the enormity and pressure and isolation of motherhood. I would wish I had a paying job, or hang out with adults or got lots of pats on my back for what I did but on my low days it was always a smile that put me back on the rails, a hug, a ‘I love you Ma’ whispered in my ear or an innocent kiss planted on my face.

 

I am grateful and blessed that I did not have to be the bread winner of the family or have to supplement the income by getting a job as so many Moms of today. A big salute to all those Moms who raised fine kids and worked full time jobs. But, I say this again – Motherhood is NOT a job.

 

You cannot put a price on a feeling and you cannot calculate the cost of the most valuable emotion of the heart – love. And, that is what being a Mom is –pure love without the bells and whistles – my mother taught me that.  And, I wouldn’t trade that lesson or that feeling for the world….

 

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY

Nimmou Nilakantan

May 8^th2022

 

 

WHERE IS THE HUMAN?

I do not ‘get’ these terms- ‘Guided Meditation’, ‘Detox Diet’, ‘Art of Living’, ‘Silent Retreat’ Blah, Blah, Bah! You get my drift? Have you ever seen a cow sit cross legged in a corner and go Ohm mm  to calm its mind and meditate? With a bull guiding it? Has a bird ever gone silent, retreating from the woods to take a break from its world? And when did living become an Art- it is pure science people- art is for the galleries, art is for nature, art is for artists but living, breathing – all science! People would be less inclined to seek solace from their daily lives if they chose to live scientifically in some parts at least – eat right, speak right and live right…

Use things the way they were meant to be used – a phone was invented as a connection device – with the first hello you listened to and connected with a HUMAN!  Now the phone is a camera because we are too busy to see but can only store and impress our friends later, it is a book of messages on Whatsapp – yes people, you read that right! Compile all those daily messages and you could have published a book if you didn’t waste time writing and responding to crap. It is a recording device to leave messages rather than just dial and talk- curse that microphone icon that tempts us into laziness…

The machines have taken over- and their shape is HUMAN!!!

Nimmou Nilakantan

19^th Jan 2022