February 6, 2013

Pramodini- The Giver of Love....

Everytime I make saru-alu-bhaja, I hope I can give it the magical taste that U gave it- each time- with your magical hands. But no- that does not happen. Ditto with kobi bhaja, dalma, pav bhaji, upma, machha jhola and innumerable other dishes- which become delicacies only with your magical touch.

In every Puja that comes along, I want to pray like U- selflessly, devotedly, purely- so the prayers can directly reach God. I want to blow the conch-shell like U every sandhya. I want to perform every procedure that U did, every pitha U made, every sloka U chanted, every bhajan U sung- alas I'm no match- not even in my dreams. Thanks to listening to your chants, I effortlessly know many mantras, that none in my generation has even heard...but that is still a drop in the ocean of mantras that U chanted devotedly, in feverish fervour.

Everytime I open your cupboard, the fresh fragrance of your washed and dried sarees fills my soul with purity and divinity. I feel your caress with my fingers touching all your well-kept things- Ur golden purse; Ur sunshine-disinfected sarees; Ur God photos; Ur sea of books (Odiya, English, Sanskrit, Hindi) and magazines; Ur diaries in which U've written some of the most soul-stirring Odiya poetry in the world, alongwith chants and lists of items for Puja and marriage; Ur prayer books; Ur glittering Puja Samagri.

Everytime I wash my hands with handwash, I want my hands to be as fragrant as yours. Everytime I clean the bathroom, I want it as sparkling clean as U kept it. Everytime I clean Papa's Safari-Collars before putting them inside the washing machine for a machine wash, I want them to be as spic-and-span as U kept them, day in and day out for decades, with just Ur bare hands and no washing machine, armed only with pure love and dedication.

Everytime I'm amazed even more thinking about how U've changed your saree from a gorgeous one to a cotton one after coming home from outside within 8 seconds. I've often thought U just do some magic like abracadabra, and lo and behold: Ur saree gets transformed! And then U prepare the best, tastiest, most nutritious, hot, fresh breakfast, lunch and dinner within 10 minutes flat many times, out of the deepest care that your children and their Papa would be hungry. Everytime I skip my milk nowadays, due to some or the other reason, I wish U would again keep hot Horlicks/Bournvita/Milk by the place I am studying or working. And when U would come to take the empty glass, I would hug U ever so tightly as if there was no tomorrow, like I always did.

Everytime I sit to solve a Psudoku, I feel Ur eagerness, Ur curiosity in solving it. The fact that U learnt it in the last year of Ur life, and solved it as religiously and happily as U wrote 'Jaya Shri Ram' in Ur ShriRam book and every day's expenses down to the last rupee in our home diary, is ethereal, remarkable, unimaginable. U forgot every slightest semblance of your illness when U sat for solving Psudoku- doctors and nurses were simply dumbstruck. U asked them about their families, and about how preparations for their sons' or daughters' marriage was going on- they were spellbound by your nobility, Ur love for all of humanity which U gave by relegating Ur tremendously painful and dreadful health condition to the background. This you have done all your life, with one and all- forgetting your own sorrows, you have made all their pain yours and made them fly like carefree birds. Blessed is each who has come in contact with you and felt your divine and infinite positive energy. 'Prema-dini'- Giver of Love. Aaee, Aja named U so aptly! U have lived upto it so completely that U have transcended it, and spread peals of Laughter and Love in Heaven too.

Everytime I play the Casio that I gifted U on Dussehra, I feel your fingers playing old Hindi and English tunes on it in the most swift, perfect and expert manner ever imaginable in the world. Ditto when I clean the Sitar and Taalmala. I'm just a key on the Casio- U are the entire music that plays and will ever be generated from every musical instrument in the world. 'Coz U r Goddess Saraswati Herself- milky white and infinitely beautiful- sitting on the gantha in the divine Sitar-holding position, Ur saree dazzling, Ur smile stunning, Ur hands moving in high yet graceful speed over the Sitar strings to produce the most soul-touching music ever. And how U enchant even the Heavens with Ur melodious voice. No wonder God was always your audience, and carried U delicately, tenderly, happily to His Abode so soon.

Heaven must be filled with Ur tinkling laughter, joy and limitless beauty, with U reigning there like a Queen. I love U Mom. I miss U so much. Keep blessing me from there. I will fulfill every wish of Urs...it's a promise.

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