Today, as I remember my mother on her birthday, I am compelled to share this story. A story of my ancestry; a story about women who stand up for other women; a story about pure grit; a story of my existence; and a story that explains where my mother got her drive, her relentless and persistent nature and her never-say-die attitude.
I had heard my mother speak in jest about her father, my maternal grandfather (my naana-ji), who’d always mention to my grandmother (my naani), “If you had not given me a son as my first born, I would have left you just like your father left your mother. I am a Rajput, and it is my right to leave my wife if she didn’t give me a son as a first-born.”
I knew my great grandmother (we would call her pad-naani) and have very fond memories of her. She was a lean, tall and strong boned woman with high cheek bones, a gorgeously brown complexion and deep, pressing eyes. She lived alone, fiercely independent, in a little village till the day she died in 1981. I was 6 years old when she died but I distinctly remember her and her nice little shop that she ran from the window of her home in the village. She’d sell knick-knacks to all the little children in the village; most of whom never paid for what they “bought”.
As a child, I didn’t pay much attention to my grandfather’s statement, and years became decades till quite suddenly my mother passed away in June of 2020. As I went through the process of grieving, even before I could come to terms with this vacuum left behind by her absence, within 10 months, my father passed away from a brain stroke that he suffered from, on mummy’s birthday last year in 2021.
My desire to connect with who my parents were and where they came from increased insatiably. This led me to a long conversation one day with my mother’s younger sister, my aunt. My grandfather’s sentence from eons ago popped up in my head and I questioned her about it. What I found out was a gem, a true jewel in my ancestry.
My maternal grandmother, Krishna Bai, was the first born, and obviously being a girl, her father (my great grandfather) rightfully as a “Rajput” left his wife (my great grandmother, Dharma Bai) the very day my grandmother was born. The year was 1931. 3 days after childbirth, Dharma Bai passed away. My grandmother was left alone in the world, in a society that didn’t much care for girl children.
That is when a great miracle of a lady, Dharma Bai’s sister, took it upon herself to become a single mother, in 1931! Her name was Heera Bai, the only woman I knew as my great grandmother. She went against the entire family and the society, and even left her husband who didn’t support her on this. Heera Bai, true to her name (which means diamond) dedicates her life to bringing up this 3-day old little girl. She went on to nurture and nourish all my 4 aunts when, ironically, she noticed that my grandmother didn’t want to take care of any of her daughters. My mother resisted going to live with Heera Bai because she was very fond of her dad, my grandfather.
Heera Bai’s action to stand up and protect a woman gave rise to 3 generations in our family and countless positive impacts on society!
This is change;This is who I am;This defines me;This explains to meWho my mother was.Heera Bai is the reasonMy grandmother survived;The reason my mother came into existence;The reason, today I exist.
No one in our family remembers the name of the great man who left his wife and then never came back for his little girl when his wife died 3 days later. But today, by sharing this I am hoping to immortalize the name of this jewel in my family, Heera Bai.
This has helped me understand a lot of things. Here are 3:
- The best version of yourself is in you, you just have to dig a little deeper.
- Your actions have an impact far beyond you.
- Your legacy begins when your story ends.
