The lady who lived

Harry potter-the boy who lived, made news for quite a long time. Here is a story about the lady who lived- real and hitherto untold. The story is old, very old- It is so old that no one knows the exact year of its beginning. It starts somewhere in mid 1950s.

A little girl, 16 years old, lived in a small village in Maharashtra. Her name was Hira. She was fair, beautiful but really short- 4 feet 9 inches tall. She had failed 4^th class and had never travelled beyond her village. She was soon married off to a handsome, young boy named Nana.

At this point, I should tell you a little about Nana. Nana grew up in a small village close to Hira’s. After his father’s death, his uncles took away all the farms. That is how Nana happened to go to Mumbai. He worked somewhere in Mumbai. I don’t know what exactly did he do for a living then. He stayed in a chawl-one room was all that he had to himself. He had a younger sister.  His sister and mother stayed back in village. He was 21 when he got married.

So when Hira got married to Nana, she had to go to Mumbai. The little girl, who had never travelled beyond her village, was brave and adventurous. She was not petrified of the city. She was happy to stay in that one room house and eagerly learnt about the city life. When Nana came back from work in the evening, he would teach her English Alphabets by writing on the walls of the room. That was Hira’s only education of English language.

Nana was enterprising; he shifted to Ahmedabad in Gujarat.  When he went to Ahmedabad, he had no money to go back to Mumbai. He stayed there and worked there. There, too, Hira and Nana had a small room as their adobe. One year later, Hira gave birth to a daughter. She was beautiful, she had green little eyes and she made the young couple very happy. At this time in his life, Nana started a factory of his own- he produced plastic bags. His wealth grew and he bought a house. He came to be known as Nana’saheb’. When he bought the house, he already had two children- a daughter and a son.

The young couple, unafraid and audacious, lived in a strange city and supported each other. Both of them learnt Gujarati. Hira was a street-smart woman and when she spoke to the vegetable hawker in Gujarati, no one could tell that she came from a small village in Maharashtra. Hira and Nana taught their kids both, Marathi and Gujarati. The kids would speak with Hira in Marathi and with Nana in Gujarati.

Hira was a strong woman. While Nana toiled in his factory, she, alone, handled the household affairs. She did not have a mother or mother-in-law to teach her. But she learnt on her own. Hira did all that she could to take care of her family. She learnt to drive a car. She was very short; so she had to put a pillow or two on the car seat to drive the car. Everyday, she would take Nana’s or saheb’s (as she fondly called him) lunch to his factory. She would also take her kids to the club to teach them swimming. Nana did not know for a very long time that Hira, too, had learnt to swim with kids! Hira loved to cook. She learnt cooking Gujarati food and could make mouth-watering Gujarati pickles. When Hira’s daughter grew up and got married, her son-in-law would eat pickles made only by Hira. He always loved the food cooked by Hira more than the food cooked by his wife!

Once a year, Hira, Nana and their kids would all visit Nana’s village in Maharashtra. They both really loved their families. Nana would regularly send them money. They both not only took care of Nana’s mother and sister but also took care of Hira’s younger sisters (Hira was the eldest). Nana would tell Hira’s younger sisters- “I am your father and Hiri (as Nana would call her) is your mother.”

Hira gave birth to two more sons. Her last child delivery was quite heroic though. Due to a relative’s death, Nana had to go back to his village when Hira was pregnant. She only had a nurse with her. Nonetheless, Hira, bravely, looked after the household. She delivered the child while Nana was away.

Hira’s daughter must have been 16 when the tragedy struck. There was an income tax raid at Nana’s house and office. (Those days the taxes were as high as 70% and everyone would try to evade taxes.) They took away most of Nana’s possessions. But it was only because of Hira’s quick thinking that some wealth was saved. She went to the bedroom and pretended to wear clothes. So the income tax officers did not enter that room.  This gave her 5 minutes to hide the gold.

With all his life’s labour taken away by the government of India, Nana was all heartbroken. Hira, still, continued to support him. She took care of everything. Her love was the only thing that helped Nana during the ruthless times. Nana, still, continued fighting in the court. Till date, the case results are pending.

Hira was never a burden or a liability for anyone! Later in her life, when her body refused to support her, she had three heart attacks and underwent a major heart surgery! And yet, she would take care of herself and her husband. She would even iron Nana’s handkerchieves and make tea for both of them every morning. (The other clothes were, of course, ironed by laundrywala. And her daughter-in-law cooked food. But she never gave up making tea for herself and Nana.)

Their kids grew up and got married one by one. Their eldest granddaughter began to call Hira “ahmeda-mummy” (Mother from Ahmedabad). So the girl from small village had gone from being Hira to Hiri and now, ahmeda-mummy; from an adventurous girl to a woman of character.

Hira passed away a few months back. Her relatives from far off places came to pay her their last respect. Nana was devastated but is gradually learning to live with her memories.

Hira continues to live though- through her granddaughters who aspire to be like her.

She will always be my role model, my grandmother, Ahmeda-mummy!