The Angel!

Few days ago my cousin pushpa told me that Maluamma is seriously ill. Maluamma didn't want to go to hospital, and nobody was interested as well. I was furious hearing this, I was literally barking over the phone. Anyway, they took her to hospital. At least they can help her to die peacefully without pain. I was thinking about her, and I will share my thoughts with you.This is maluamma's story, obviously my side of the story, my point of view…


Maluamma is our distant relative. Older than my mother, we all were born in front of her. For some reason she remained unmarried, and ended up living with her brother, in their maternal family home. For them she was like a servant who doesn't need to be paid. She did all the household chores, and looked after all the children. Being the family home, all the relatives and us children used to go there for holidays and special occasions. Maluamma was very simple, but had elegant looks, with long thick hair. We all were jealous of her hair. Like many women of her generation, she only wore traditional whites. everyday evening, she went to the temple nearby to our house. When she walked down the steps of the temple, the red horizon in the background, she looked like the goddess herself !!! I think, in her young age, she must have been prettier than any of us in the new generation.

Maluamma could read and write, and showed interest to know what is happening in the outside world. I am saying this because she listened to the radio and TV, read news papers whenever she got them in her hand. She read original first editions of marthandavarma , and indulekha. Her nephews and nieces including me got her books from the local library. Maluamma even read our school text books!!! Whenever we are home, I went with her to the temple, and talked to her all the way through. In fact it was a monologue, since only thing maluamma did was listen all, and smile in amusement. She never joked about anything, but she did enjoy humour. She never complained about anything, never demanded anything. In fact, she had a name which many of us didn't know. After asking her many many times about her history, she said her name was 'karthyayani', she was so shy. I was forcing her to tell me about her, mainly to know why she didn't get married. Since her being so good looking, I had a strong doubt that she was a victim of a love failure. I wondered whether she ever had any dreams like any human being would ever have had…I refused to accept her silence and refused to believe that she had no desires...I encouraged her to talk, but all she gave me was a smile, I often got angry and walked away. It looked like she enjoyed my fights with her. Still a mystery, she left her mind for us to read, left all for our imagination. She used to pray for hours, I wonder what was she asking for !! She talked very very less, and cried watching movies and soaps on TV.


For me maluamma was somebody who always showed a lot of love and care towards us children. It could have been sympathy too. In different ways our situations were more or less the same. Loosing parents early in life was a big blow to us, and more than that, living under somebody’s kindness was torturous. Even though she never said it, I was special for her. When she looked at me , I could see a small drop of tear in her eyes all the time. I could sense it and I sort of 'liked it'. There was a time in our life when any sort of support was welcomed, and how much ever we get, wasn't enough. I was in a sort of atmosphere where everybody tried to control us, put ideas in to our head. There was no room for independent thinking, till l decided to take things in my hand, and politely refused to take advices. Maluamma watched everything silently, I could see the pain and frustration of helplessness in her eyes.I used to call her malootty, darling, sweetheart, Cinderella, madhubala, etc etc… she used to smile shyly in response.

Every time when I went home for holidays, she loved to do my hair, she made the paste with herbs and leaves and washed my hair with it. It was a replacement of shampoo they used in the village. She always looked for something to do to help me. When maluamma was free in the afternoons, I used to sleep on her lap, she massaged my head, and she did it with a lot of passion, probably the best thing she ever liked to do. I felt that she worked harder in the kitchen to do more delicious food for us when we were home. Maluamma never came to the dining room, but I knew that she is watching me from there. I made good effort to eat all the food she gave me and praised her culinary skills , and I knew that she is overjoyed with my comments. Appreciation was something nobody thought necessary for maluamma. I tried to advice my cousins to behave well with her, which always ended up as me fighting with them. To give her some fresh air outside the kitchen, I used to call her to help me with small jobs, but later on I realised that this act of mine is making her stretch more to complete her work. Many times, I consciously tried to joke and make her laugh. I think she knew that and co - operated very well. It took so little to make her happy. When I was abroad, I wrote her 2-3 letters, sent her money. she never replied, but I am sure she must have read them many times. In fact, Maluamma also consciously tried to fill the gap our mother left in our lives and always tried to do everything our mother could have done for us.


Our home in Malabar was an old traditional Hindu family home, where the women were not given many rights. The decisions in the house were taken by the men and all the others silently followed it. Maluamma was scared to sit even in front of her nephews. She never came in front of the guests. When they partitioned the property, maluamma got a useless piece of land, which as a reversal of fortune, became an expensive plot, with new diversion of national highway on one side. Maluamma’s brother was a businessman, and one day he came to Maluamma and asked her to sell that property, so that he can invest it in his business. His argument was that it is being wasted, what is she going to do with it... she doesn’t need any money, doesn’t have any family.. etc. But to everybody’s surprise, maluamma totally refused to sell that land. She courageously stood up and clearly told her brother that till I die, nobody is touching it. Now when I am thinking about it, I feel that maluamma must have kept that as a security, she understood that that piece of land is the reason why her selfish brother is allowing her to stay in that house.


Whenever I am home, before I wake up in the morning, maluamma brought me cup of tea to my bedroom. I liked it, but didn’t like the fact that maluamma is walking up and down with teacups for everyone like a hotel waitress. I tried to make her understand, that she is not a servant. She does not have to do that. I told her that if anybody wants anything, they can go and get it from the kitchen themselves. Maluamma silently stood and listened to everything I said and then she asked me to drink the tea and give her the cup... I used to get frustrated by her attitude. In the end, I decided to give up on this, thinking that this is her fate. But when I look back now, I understand that she wanted all of us to feel royal , to enjoy maximum comfort when we are home. In her own way, she tried to make our time in the house the most enjoyable one. May be she wanted us always come back home whenever we had holidays........


When we all are on holidays at home, we used to have big serious games of carom board. Maluamma watched us playing and never participated. But once I forced maluamma to play with us. She refused at first, then she agreed and sat opposite to me. I started explaining her about the game. I thought that maluamma doesn’t know the game, and I was just involving her to make her feel accepted. As far as the game is concerned, I was thinking that I won’t need anybody’s help because I believed myself as great player. The game started and maluamma almost emptied the board in less than three minutes in one go !! we all ”champion players” were in shock !

Once, all the family went for a tour to ootty, the hill station in southern India. We hired a bus, packed loads of food, well planned to have a lot of fun. We took maluamma too with us. Usually she used to stay back looking after the house, cows, chickens etc. I was happy that she will get a break from her usual run. But during the trip, instead of enjoying , she again got busy with helping others and looking after children, packing , unpacking, cleaning, clearing etc..etc... because of that, I got angry and upset with her that day, and I didn’t eat my food, ignored her till we got back. Even though I didn’t talk to her, I secretly observed her facial expression to see whether she is upset because I threw my food away. But to my disappointment, her expression and mood never changed. I still like to believe that she felt some amount of pain because I was starving. That day I also understood that she is intelligent as well, because she showed me that by starving, I can’t win. I think if she had fallen for my starving idea, I would have repeated it many times. Because it didn’t work, I never repeated it again. Even though she was an uneducated village woman, she was clever enough to know that these kind of behaviour should not be encouraged. In a way, she played mind games with me and the world all the time.

Few times I tried to help in the kitchen, but Maluamma did not encourage it, I have this mischievous thought in my mind that my presence made her nervous!! Our cousins used to tease us saying "malu and molu".The only apparent evidence I had, for argument sake that she had a soft corner towards me, is that in her small room near the kitchen, she had my picture with my family pasted on the wall near her bed.Years later, when we took my child home, she won’t keep the child down, carried her all the time, and people said "vasu on maluamma's head, vasu's child on maluamma's lap…"


Whenever we leave after our holidays, she wouldn’t come to say bye to me , she acted busy and more vigorously indulged herself in washing and cleaning , refusing an eye contact with me. I didn’t ask her to say bye to me, I thought silently leaving will be the kind act towards her, rather than forcing her to show her emotions in public, which she never liked to do. I always had this longing for her ‘ special ‘affection. so Inside my mind , secretly I wished if she had cried because I am leaving...when we left India for good, I asked her to bless the child, she finally cried with her mouth covered with the tip of her sari.

Whenever anybody from the family was ill or in the hospital for any reason, maluamma was the one who took care of them. Regardless of anything, she showed commitment and dedication and a lot of sympathy towards them. Whenever a new child is born, maluamma was the one to do everything for it. It was like the people there thought that she is supposed to do it. It always annoyed me that nobody considered it as a favour or help. I am much more annoyed and upset now because maluamma is ill and nobody is even bothered...Now she is dying, and I feel guilty, thinking that I should have done something more for her. My husband is saying "U worry unnecessarily for everything, hope u have not passed this nature on to your daughter". Maluamma certainly deserved more. Like all, I was selfish too. I also conveniently avoided her and got busy with my own life. My heart is bleeding thinking that she may have expected some more kindness from me.... Now sitting here, the only thing I can do is to pray for her. I have asked pushpa to tell her that I am thinking about her. May be, she must have been believing it so; all these years…..