My mother a gift from heaven
Wednesday, 5 November 2008
K Atique -e- Rabbani
Born in plenty she gave everything and took nothing. There is nothing but fondest of memories and a gaping emptiness. She was to us - a gift from the heavens.
The only daughter and second child of an eminent lawyer and an MLA (Member of Legislative Assembly) of Patuakhali, my mother (1914-2007) had a relatively privileged childhood. Nana (grandfather), the 'boba Ukil' (the lawyer who would listen much and say little) and Nani (grandmother), devoutly religious instilled in my mother devotion to religion, dignity and simplicity. An indomitable spirit and extremely bright, she was the loving Naju or Naju Buji to her brothers, cousins and peers. Her exuberance and warmth was captivating. Her older relatives used to gather round her to hear her do Puthi Path (religious stories recited in a song like fashion) and were often driven to tears. As a young girl she used to be sent in a cloth wrapped rickshaw to school. The curious child could not see things on the way through the cover and she did not like it. On way back home one day she asked the rickshaw-puller to take cloth wrap up. Nani saw this and admonished her. She always complied thereafter.
She was married to my father, then a Dhaka University student studying Economics. My father bought her a harmonium soon after the wedding in 1930. My Nani passed away leaving my mother's youngest brother in her custody. My father often had to be away on official tour but my mother steered the family of eight brothers and sisters smoothly with her innate confidence, discipline and wisdom. With my father's government office salary at our disposal, our parents set the priorities at the very outset; food first, education second and clothes third. As far as we could understand as children, there was hardly anything wanting even within those limited means. Our parents sent us to watch movies like Tarzan to Sunday Morning Show cinemas which we very much enjoyed. The brothers divided into two two-member teams would play football in the foreground of our house "Prasanna Kuthir" in Bagicha Gaon in Comilla. There were musical and drama evenings often at the stair landing in which we all participated. Our eldest brother used to be the anchor for these shows. Our parents and our neighbours were the invited audience. My mother always had the magic of coming out with extra food instantly when we asked for more of a delicious dish or when a visitor would drop in during meal time. May be the magic is clear to me now. She would always anticipate and keep enough in reserve or she would give up her share. Now it is also clear to me why she always ate last after everyone finished. She managed without fuss or rancor. We were blessed with a lifetime of almost ideal parenting.
My mother was devastated when my father passed away in June 1962 in Pabna. My eldest brother, an erstwhile CSP was then SDO, Jhenidah. One of my elder sisters was then also married by then and lived in what is now Pakistan. Rest of the family with my mother fell back to Faridpur where my father earlier bought a house. Other brothers and sisters were in schools and colleges. Together with my eldest brother my mother held the rein of the family. For us, the younger ones, it seemed business as usual.
As the youngest child I was very attached to her. In 1966 I left home and entered into Class 7 in Momenshahi Cadet College. It was quite unbearable for her to send her youngest son away. She would often stop in the middle of the day or wake up in the middle of the night anguished as my elder sister later told me. My sister, then visiting my mother, at one point even suggested I be brought back from Cadet College. My mother, however, simply suffered and endured.
She showered on us love and care unconditionally and lived the life she wanted us to live. Waking early in the morning for Fazr prayer, reading Wadifa and Quran everyday was a lifetime routine. She had a variety of active interests and she lived life to its full. She taught us and our neighbour's children how to recite Holy Quran. That brought me accolades in school and colleges. From delicious cooking to intricate stitching to art work using wood shavings or husks of grain to story telling she was an innovator and adept at most things. Our neighbours used to seek her advice and judgment. She also taught my sisters songs. Her and my father's love for music permeated through all of us in some good measure.
When my mother visited us in Great Britain during 1978, I sort of discovered her anew. I would appreciate and be amazed at her natural conversational skills. In any of the social get-togethers she was at great ease and engaged young and old into interesting conversations. She was also the greatest optimist and taught us fortitude and patience against all odds. She never flinched for a moment in the face of crisis or unpleasant situations. Her inner strength was sublime.
During the mid sixties when we were living in Faridpur soon after my father expired I used to sleep beside my mother. I would wake up sometime and feel her breath to make sure that she was alive. As a child I sometimes prayed to God saying, "Please take me but don't take my mother away". When I bent down to feel her breath on 11 Nov 2007, it was not there. God took HIS gift back.
We eased her into her grave beside the graves of my eldest brother and my eldest sister in Savar. My father's grave is in Pabna where he passed away. We are a family in transition.
K. Atique -e- Rabbani, B Tech (Hons), UK, is FCA
Born in plenty she gave everything and took nothing. There is nothing but fondest of memories and a gaping emptiness. She was to us - a gift from the heavens.
The only daughter and second child of an eminent lawyer and an MLA (Member of Legislative Assembly) of Patuakhali, my mother (1914-2007) had a relatively privileged childhood. Nana (grandfather), the 'boba Ukil' (the lawyer who would listen much and say little) and Nani (grandmother), devoutly religious instilled in my mother devotion to religion, dignity and simplicity. An indomitable spirit and extremely bright, she was the loving Naju or Naju Buji to her brothers, cousins and peers. Her exuberance and warmth was captivating. Her older relatives used to gather round her to hear her do Puthi Path (religious stories recited in a song like fashion) and were often driven to tears. As a young girl she used to be sent in a cloth wrapped rickshaw to school. The curious child could not see things on the way through the cover and she did not like it. On way back home one day she asked the rickshaw-puller to take cloth wrap up. Nani saw this and admonished her. She always complied thereafter.
She was married to my father, then a Dhaka University student studying Economics. My father bought her a harmonium soon after the wedding in 1930. My Nani passed away leaving my mother's youngest brother in her custody. My father often had to be away on official tour but my mother steered the family of eight brothers and sisters smoothly with her innate confidence, discipline and wisdom. With my father's government office salary at our disposal, our parents set the priorities at the very outset; food first, education second and clothes third. As far as we could understand as children, there was hardly anything wanting even within those limited means. Our parents sent us to watch movies like Tarzan to Sunday Morning Show cinemas which we very much enjoyed. The brothers divided into two two-member teams would play football in the foreground of our house "Prasanna Kuthir" in Bagicha Gaon in Comilla. There were musical and drama evenings often at the stair landing in which we all participated. Our eldest brother used to be the anchor for these shows. Our parents and our neighbours were the invited audience. My mother always had the magic of coming out with extra food instantly when we asked for more of a delicious dish or when a visitor would drop in during meal time. May be the magic is clear to me now. She would always anticipate and keep enough in reserve or she would give up her share. Now it is also clear to me why she always ate last after everyone finished. She managed without fuss or rancor. We were blessed with a lifetime of almost ideal parenting.
My mother was devastated when my father passed away in June 1962 in Pabna. My eldest brother, an erstwhile CSP was then SDO, Jhenidah. One of my elder sisters was then also married by then and lived in what is now Pakistan. Rest of the family with my mother fell back to Faridpur where my father earlier bought a house. Other brothers and sisters were in schools and colleges. Together with my eldest brother my mother held the rein of the family. For us, the younger ones, it seemed business as usual.
As the youngest child I was very attached to her. In 1966 I left home and entered into Class 7 in Momenshahi Cadet College. It was quite unbearable for her to send her youngest son away. She would often stop in the middle of the day or wake up in the middle of the night anguished as my elder sister later told me. My sister, then visiting my mother, at one point even suggested I be brought back from Cadet College. My mother, however, simply suffered and endured.
She showered on us love and care unconditionally and lived the life she wanted us to live. Waking early in the morning for Fazr prayer, reading Wadifa and Quran everyday was a lifetime routine. She had a variety of active interests and she lived life to its full. She taught us and our neighbour's children how to recite Holy Quran. That brought me accolades in school and colleges. From delicious cooking to intricate stitching to art work using wood shavings or husks of grain to story telling she was an innovator and adept at most things. Our neighbours used to seek her advice and judgment. She also taught my sisters songs. Her and my father's love for music permeated through all of us in some good measure.
When my mother visited us in Great Britain during 1978, I sort of discovered her anew. I would appreciate and be amazed at her natural conversational skills. In any of the social get-togethers she was at great ease and engaged young and old into interesting conversations. She was also the greatest optimist and taught us fortitude and patience against all odds. She never flinched for a moment in the face of crisis or unpleasant situations. Her inner strength was sublime.
During the mid sixties when we were living in Faridpur soon after my father expired I used to sleep beside my mother. I would wake up sometime and feel her breath to make sure that she was alive. As a child I sometimes prayed to God saying, "Please take me but don't take my mother away". When I bent down to feel her breath on 11 Nov 2007, it was not there. God took HIS gift back.
We eased her into her grave beside the graves of my eldest brother and my eldest sister in Savar. My father's grave is in Pabna where he passed away. We are a family in transition.
K. Atique -e- Rabbani, B Tech (Hons), UK, is FCA