Sandhya Vasudev
As I remember, I was made to sit on the marriage saddle even as my friends had their noses buried deep in their academic books. Force majeure is one that none can avoid and I took my circumstances in my stride. The studious, reserved and socially shy person that I was, was metamorphosed into a woman and a mother in no time. I was blessed with two lovely children in quick succession. Tending to the domestic chores and the needs of the tiny angels became my world. Support came from my maternal home at the nearby town where one of my two tiny daughters would spend a few days in the loving care of an uncle, aunt, granny, cousins and faithful servants.
The loving father that he was, the husband could never get enough time with the toddlers as his work schedule stretched beyond normal as he was the manager of a busy branch of a bank. Mornings seemed long with an infant on hand, and the need for an alternative engagement arose. Unknown to me things were moving towards this end, and a family just arrived in the town. The husband informed me that his mother’s cousin had been transferred on work and that we should call on the family once.
With trepidation I accompanied the husband and his mother on the visit, as I had little to hope for in social comfort from such elderly persons. I was pleasantly surprised as the lady took to me instantly. Her warmth was infectious and I returned home with a pleasant feeling. Even after the mother-in-law’s departure the lady continued calling me, and invited me over during the mornings after the hubbies went to work. Hesitant at first, I started visiting her along with the infant. The prime advantage was that her house was at a stone’s throw away from mine. Her children would be in college then and we both would spend time watching the toddler play and I would learn something new from her in cooking or sewing or knitting, as she was an expert at all these skills.
The genial soul that she was, she latched her sari onto a hook in the ceiling and made a cradle for the infant, and she would rock the baby to sleep even as I tried my hand at her sewing machine. Our friendship was singular knowing no age barriers and I felt I could talk to her as I pleased, fearing no judgements. Maybe she felt the same about me and chose to talk openly about her personal issues without inhibitions. Isn’t this friendship all about? True to her name, “Kasturi” was incomparable in terms of her qualities of goodness. Her daughters too doted on my toddlers. Even after the inevitable separation we managed to keep in touch, as I would attend important family events and visit her when possible. She displayed her happiness on seeing me at joyful events, and felt touched to see my presence at her husband’s obsequies. Her home felt always like a home away from home. Being a septuagenarian these days does not seem to have affected her spirits, and it was with a smile that I learnt about her recent Dubai jaunt with a group of like-minded friends. May her tribe increase!
