My Mum….Back to the future My Mum, Saramma John, was a remarkable lady. She drove me nuts when I was growing up, as I am sure I did her. Whenever I had a fight with her, I would wait, on a stone bench in the garage, for my Dad to come home, so that I could tell him, my side of the story first. He would listen carefully, before he went up the steps, to hide a smile and share a knowing look with my Mum. Nothing much changed, with me getting to my Dad first. Except, for the immense pleasure I got, from complaining to my Dad, before she did.

see url They were indivisible when it came to raising me. If my mum said that black was white, my Dad would say that black was white. If my Mum said that cows had 3 legs , my dad would have wondered aloud, if there were cows with four legs in this world. My mum was hearing challenged, but they had a better marriage and understanding than many couples I know, who are blessed with all their faculties intact. What she could not hear, he wrote out for her. He never left her out of the Loop. They invented “Sync”. When I became a Parent myself, I saw my parents, especially my Mum, in a different light. A kinder, softer light, that made me understand them better. The enormity of her selfless life and all the sacrifices that she did for everyone, in her sound muffled world, hit me with every challenge I faced. By then, it was too late to let her know, how much I valued and admired her. Regrettably, way, way too late. Maybe they can read in Cyberspace. To understand her persona better, I need to take you to her life and times, growing up with her 18 siblings. in her parents home, in Kodukulanji, at The Cadavanaltharayil House, the house by the Banyan Tree near a Canal.

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