Mother’s love is unconditional
MY parents were of south Indian origin and came from the state of
Tamil Nadu. My mother was a beautiful lady with fair skin and was
staying in the town of Kamunting, Perak, when my father first met
her.
My father, a cook for a rubber estate manager, was dark. He was
captivated by my mother’s looks and married her.
My father took my mother to the estate and taught her to tap
rubber and when she was good enough she joined the estate work
force.
Every day she would get up early and set off to answer the roll
call before going into the field to tap rubber with two metal pails
dangling on either end of pole balanced over her shoulders.
Mosquitoes were a nuisance and deadly snakes were abundant in the
rubber estate, and tigers were also often spotted. The workers had
to brave all these creatures to make a living.
Many amenities were lacking. There was no electricity or tap
water in the estate then. They depended on wells, rain and the river
for water. They went into the bushes to answer the call of nature.
My mother became pregnant soon and she went to work, with me in
her womb. She was still working on the day her water bag burst and
had to be rushed to hospital.
I was born on Aug 15, 1947, the day India achieved its
independence. She was the happiest person in the estate and everyone
came to congratulate my mum.
It was an auspicious day for the Indians. I was considered a
lucky baby. Even though I was pitch dark, to my mum I was the
fairest baby on earth.
When she went to tap rubber I was left in the hands of the estate
nanny known as Ayamah and when work was over my mother would
come running to fetch me at the estate nursery with great speed and
relief. She would hug and kiss me as if I had been lost and found
after many months.
Her love for me was unconditional and she would starve to feed
me. Later, she took me with her when she went to tap rubber and I
would help her clean the rubber cups.
When an ant bit me, she would shamelessly cry with me. I cried
more on seeing her cry and that would make her cry, even more.
As I grew up I got sick many times, mostly due to malaria, and as
I shivered she would be by my side to console and nurse me back to
health. Every tear from my eyes would break her heart. She bled
inside her and shed a thousand tears for every tear of mine.
When I reached schooling age my father was not keen on sending me
to school because hardly any estate boy succeeded in school. My
mother never went to school and she did want me to be deprived of an
education and she insisted that I go to school and so I went.
I had to walk several kilometres to school come rain or shine and
she would not fail to give me a few coins to quench my thirst.
However, it was never enough because of the extreme heat so I
resorted to stealing coins from her copper containers which she kept
at the alter.
She knew that it was me who emptied the containers. She scared me
by saying that God would make the person who stole the coins blind
without pointing the finger at me.
I was worried for a week but as I was still able to see it only
encouraged me to continue with my thieving ways.
As I faced my examinations and late night studying, she was there
to make me coffee and my suffering less painful.
When I grew up and married a girl from another race she never
objected and cared for my wife the way she cared for my sister.
When the grandchildren came she descended gracefully into the
role of a grandmother and took care of them, saving us anxiety and
the cost of hiring a maid. My children were always safe in her hands
and her love for them was as unconditional.
When she grew old she became a different person. She became a
child and it was difficult for everyone around her. I understood her
condition.
She began imagining things and would tell me that someone wanted
to kill her, and she was having horrible dreams. I would sleep next
to her and I cried within. I was helpless.
One day she complained of severe pain in her abdomen and we
rushed her to the hospital. She was operated on but passed away the
next day.
Mothers are special and there can be only one mother. They will
sacrifice their happiness for the sake of their children.
We must never forget their love and sacrifices and ensure their
last days on earth are as painless as possible.
HAPPY MOTHERS DAY
GOPAL ANNAMALAI,
Nilai, Negri Sembilan.
