Remembering Mallapapa on his 20th death anniversary
My happiest childhood memories are those from the summers spend in my native hometown, Mangalore. It was a time to escape and run carefree. From boring classes in school, exams and noisy Mumbai.
It would all begin a month before the final exams. As soon as the dates were announced, Mom would pester Papa to book the bus tickets to Mangalore. The excitement would build up and increase, as the day would get closer.
The last exam day would be a frantic scene at home. Mom packing, cooking and pressurizing me to study. After a half-hearted attempt to study and give the exam it was vacation time! Two and a half months of fun and pampering at my grandparents home. Amma and Mallapapa’s home.
We would wake up at 5.00am, have a shower and groggily eat bread and butter at 6.00am. Our bus would usually leave at 8.00am from the Sion depot. I enjoyed sitting with Papa as he would tell me stories about the imaginary forests, teach me how to count the remaining kilometers, and share some other made-up stories that I completely believed then.
As the bus would stop at Udupi for breakfast, we used to get super excited and mom’s smile would get bigger by the kilometer once the bus was back en route. Finally we’d reach the last stop. Bejai. The most wonderful place in the world.
Ramchandra uncle used to be waiting for us at the depot to take us home in his rickshaw. His warm smile would melt away our tiredness and gear us up for the wonderful days ahead.
Akki and I would huddle up waiting for the rickshaw to take a left turn towards Pais Gardens. The tiny lane towards my Mallapapa's house. He would stand at the door with his cream mundu and silk kurta smiling and welcoming us. Every year, he would be there. Same spot. Same smile. How much of love was stored in that heart.
The home welcomed us with the smell of fresh idlis steaming away. As Amma would hear us, she'd come running out of the kitchen wiping her wet hands on her saree pallu and hug us all. She was the most amazing grandma. Pamper us to no end. I remember Amma as being super busy 24/7. No complains, No expectations. She only knew how to love and how to feed an army of people. Relatives and friends would come and go and she made sure she fed them. The only time she got for her self was after bath while getting ready to the daily puje. After neatly combing her hair into a bun, and some talcum powder on her face, Amma would put her bottu. My favorite bit of this morning ritual. Creating a base of Ponds cream to make the kumkum stay, she would carefully make a rounded bottu. No sticker bindis for Amma. She loved doing that. And I loved observing her do that. ‘Daada toopooni?’ was her standard question to the inquisitive me and smile.
One of my favorite memories with Mallapapa was the ‘our time’ we had. I would sit by him or on his belly, as he would sleep and tell him stories. I’d tell him stories starting with ‘Oonji Krishna eethe… Oonji Shiva eethe….. ’ We would hear mom, dad, uncles and aunties standing outside and sniggering away. At this, Mallapapa would get angry and shoo them off. He didn’t ever discourage me from making up my own stories. He let my childlike imagination go all the way. And when my never ending story would.. well….never end, he would say, ‘Amma jepoda yaan? Yelle kelsa oondu.’
We used to go with him in Ramachandra uncle’s rickshaw to his Carstreet tailoring shop where he would work tirelessly everyday. It was amazing to see how many people greeted him with love and respect there. I felt proud to have a famous grandpa whilst hogging on chakkulis he would buy for us on the way.
That was just a jist of a lovely summer vacation...Ammas amazing food, rickshaw rides with Ramchandra uncle, watering the huge garden with Divya aunty, sannas at Babuliaunty's house, relishing Moondappas that mallapapa would get by the dozen, watching Sundariakka wash clothes and swinging on the jackfruit tree.
Memories so special that I yearn to be in that happy place again. I still feel their presence in my life. A constant hand over my head. Feel blessed to have had grandparents like them.
I miss them both so much.
They wanted us girls to study hard and stand tall on our own feet. Amma and Mallapapa always said that when we touched their feet. Study hard. Work hard. Become independent. For me, they were a true example of ‘Simple Living, High Thinking.’
It would all begin a month before the final exams. As soon as the dates were announced, Mom would pester Papa to book the bus tickets to Mangalore. The excitement would build up and increase, as the day would get closer.
The last exam day would be a frantic scene at home. Mom packing, cooking and pressurizing me to study. After a half-hearted attempt to study and give the exam it was vacation time! Two and a half months of fun and pampering at my grandparents home. Amma and Mallapapa’s home.
We would wake up at 5.00am, have a shower and groggily eat bread and butter at 6.00am. Our bus would usually leave at 8.00am from the Sion depot. I enjoyed sitting with Papa as he would tell me stories about the imaginary forests, teach me how to count the remaining kilometers, and share some other made-up stories that I completely believed then.
As the bus would stop at Udupi for breakfast, we used to get super excited and mom’s smile would get bigger by the kilometer once the bus was back en route. Finally we’d reach the last stop. Bejai. The most wonderful place in the world.
Ramchandra uncle used to be waiting for us at the depot to take us home in his rickshaw. His warm smile would melt away our tiredness and gear us up for the wonderful days ahead.
Akki and I would huddle up waiting for the rickshaw to take a left turn towards Pais Gardens. The tiny lane towards my Mallapapa's house. He would stand at the door with his cream mundu and silk kurta smiling and welcoming us. Every year, he would be there. Same spot. Same smile. How much of love was stored in that heart.
The home welcomed us with the smell of fresh idlis steaming away. As Amma would hear us, she'd come running out of the kitchen wiping her wet hands on her saree pallu and hug us all. She was the most amazing grandma. Pamper us to no end. I remember Amma as being super busy 24/7. No complains, No expectations. She only knew how to love and how to feed an army of people. Relatives and friends would come and go and she made sure she fed them. The only time she got for her self was after bath while getting ready to the daily puje. After neatly combing her hair into a bun, and some talcum powder on her face, Amma would put her bottu. My favorite bit of this morning ritual. Creating a base of Ponds cream to make the kumkum stay, she would carefully make a rounded bottu. No sticker bindis for Amma. She loved doing that. And I loved observing her do that. ‘Daada toopooni?’ was her standard question to the inquisitive me and smile.
One of my favorite memories with Mallapapa was the ‘our time’ we had. I would sit by him or on his belly, as he would sleep and tell him stories. I’d tell him stories starting with ‘Oonji Krishna eethe… Oonji Shiva eethe….. ’ We would hear mom, dad, uncles and aunties standing outside and sniggering away. At this, Mallapapa would get angry and shoo them off. He didn’t ever discourage me from making up my own stories. He let my childlike imagination go all the way. And when my never ending story would.. well….never end, he would say, ‘Amma jepoda yaan? Yelle kelsa oondu.’
We used to go with him in Ramachandra uncle’s rickshaw to his Carstreet tailoring shop where he would work tirelessly everyday. It was amazing to see how many people greeted him with love and respect there. I felt proud to have a famous grandpa whilst hogging on chakkulis he would buy for us on the way.
That was just a jist of a lovely summer vacation...Ammas amazing food, rickshaw rides with Ramchandra uncle, watering the huge garden with Divya aunty, sannas at Babuliaunty's house, relishing Moondappas that mallapapa would get by the dozen, watching Sundariakka wash clothes and swinging on the jackfruit tree.
Memories so special that I yearn to be in that happy place again. I still feel their presence in my life. A constant hand over my head. Feel blessed to have had grandparents like them.
I miss them both so much.
They wanted us girls to study hard and stand tall on our own feet. Amma and Mallapapa always said that when we touched their feet. Study hard. Work hard. Become independent. For me, they were a true example of ‘Simple Living, High Thinking.’
Very nicely written Pari. I felt as if I was in Mangalore witnessing you all enjoying your time with your grandparents. Time spent with grandparents is so precious and unforgettable. We all are very lucky to have experienced their unconditional and unquestioning love and affection. :)
ReplyDeleteLovely Pari,I miss my family now!
ReplyDeleteThis is awesome pari. I remember every bit. Malla Pappa used to be a great Cricket fan too. He never missed a single cricket match which Doordarshan used to telecast those days. I remember watching matches with him during late 80's in bijai house. The atmosphere used to turn too intense and electrifying. No unwanted comments are entertained. We used to think hundred times before we open our mouth. The most moemorable matches we watched was the Rothmans Cup which India won the trophy. The worst one was the India Pak match with Miandad's last ball sixer for Chetan Sharma. Chetan Sharma was lucky since Malla Pappa was not watching the match live. Great memories. Thanks Pari.
ReplyDelete