Amma...Januechi!!!

The first instruction from my “would be” mother-in-law when the families met up for the first time, “Molea, Jayettannu villikanam, keta?” Directly translates to “Daughter! Address him as Jayetta!!” In Kerala, one is said to address with respect if the name is suffixed with “etta”. And I hated this instruction. C’mon! We are of the same batch and why will I “address” him differently to “show” respect? But…that was the beginning - not of the typical MIL tantrums but of the love & respect a mother has for her son.

My MIL, I call her Amma, and the village fondly calls her “Januechi”, lost her own mother when she was just 4 years. Raised by her older sister (age difference keeps changing every time we ask the sisters - for they don’t know when they were born) and her step-mother and her father, who was an Ayurvedic expert doctor, this girl Janaki, did not school beyond 4^th grade.

She was pampered and not shown any responsibilities until she married the NLC mechanic at the age of 18 (age guessed again). Innocent that she was, all that she learnt in cooking was “on-the-job”. It is said that my FIL could not control her usage of oil that he used to make measuring spoons just so that she does not over-use. However, every time the spoon itself lasted just for a couple of days. She was quite reckless in maintaining anything.

My hubby tells me that when she saw me the first time itself she took a liking for me. Now, after several years I think, she would have liked even a donkey if her son loved it J

After our marriage, she had to leave us and go to her village. She cried so uncontrollably that even my father was moved. So, on her next trip in a couple of months to our house I asked her why she wept so much. For which she said, “I felt bad that I was leaving my son in a dilapidated, deep well” (Nyaan enda mona pazhukenutrala thallinallo”). I was startled J

Have you seen or heard of a golden-hearted woman? You must meet her to understand what I mean. For her it does not matter who is suffering. All that matters is no one should suffer. I have personally seen her weep for losses anywhere in the world - be it Africa or China or America. She would skip a meal when she sees some sorrowful news on the TV. It is like her own family getting affected each time there is miserable news on TV or paper. For her, humans are all the same. She can’t see any human being getting hurt or going through pain. And for all this, her worldly wisdom is so limited and confined to the four walls of her house.

She has loved cooking for people. More the merrier… Which DIL gets her tea served every morning and evening for 15 years without missing a day, by the MIL herself! I am gifted. We were a great MIL-DIL pair. She loved cooking and I, eating. Just that I could not compromise on my principles to eat the great non-veg dishes she made. So, she used to first cook some good veg dishes for me and then prepare for the rest of the family some whacky non-veg. stuff. She would ask me to take rest while she cooks for us. Blessing! She could never “teach” cooking. She was a natural. And whenever I offered to cook, either out of fear of my culinary skills or out of her own passion for cooking she would say that I could cook when she is unable to. Sad that those days have started for me for a couple of years now!

In the four walls that she was confined in, she knew only one thing and only that mattered to her the most. That was – her only son! Sometimes (or rather many times), I have asked her if she was holding him in her womb for some 20 months or so. Such was her protection for her son. She would never let him move his little finger. All that she could not get from her own mother, I used to think, she gives it to her children and more specifically, to her son.

With her around, raising my own son was a huge challenge. Needless to say, since he was the first child of her only son, she had to make sure that the baby (until he became 12) was given a clean bath every day, had good, rich, tasty food for every course of meal, caught up with some sound sleep and played while he was awake for the little bit of time left. She made a big deal if I got tough on the child asking him to do his school work. She would come in to the room and ask her grandson, “Mone, endhengilam kazhikkam veno?” (directly translates to “Son, do you want to eat something?”). He would have just gobbled some snacks before settling down to do his work! And that is when she asks this question. My pressure would hit the roof.

She also has a good sense of humor. Whenever she serves food to her darling son, no one should be around talking to him or distracting him. So, during such times, if my FIL tried to make some conversations, she would stand behind her son and signal my FIL to get away. Yes. She respected her son so much that she would hardly stand in front of him and talk. She would not even sit when he is around. I have been truly struck by this.

For all that goes wrong in the family of 8 or 9 people that we were at one point, only two souls got blasted. One was obviously her husband. And the second was me. I used to tell my FIL that only the two of us were not her own “blood”. And we would laugh it off.

What beats me is how she managed to become a “Panchayat Member” in her village in a community of Muslims. That speaks volumes of the love and respect people have for her across religions. It seems during her campaign she was asked to get on stage and speak. She stood up and spoke and finally she had to end it with “Please vote for me. The identity is Umbrella” She did well throughout but she forgot the last bit – the identity bit - and fumbled on stage. People had to remind her and then she completed her speech. We laugh recalling this incident.

Age & health are taking their tolls on her. She lost her hubby after 53 years of married life. She knew nothing beyond him. We all see how much she misses him and it pains all of us. In spite of that, her deep worry is that she has been unable to raise my second son. Which MIL will be so genuine?

As I often tell my own mom who is the daughter of a military man, “You are my MIL and my MIL is my mom”. That have been the extremes of women in my life. One so tough and one so lenient. I am glad that I got the lenient one for my MIL J. Love you, Januechi! Love you till my last breath!