Ma's life as a postgraduate student at Kolkata in the early 50's
Was interesting getting a face of the postgraduate hostel on Harrison Road that my mother stayed in during her studying of the M.A. in Philosophy at the University of Calcutta.
There was no electricity in the building. No fans at night. And she was from Shillong which was cool even in the summer. Even today one sometimes needs a cardigan in May. But my mother was a great one for acceptance and tolerance. She still continues to have it. She had a femur bone transplant in 2014, after a great fall and she was 80, then. Not a word of complaint. She had a gall bladder operation in 2015. That too, she bore quietly. Really, quite extraordinary.
I mean she is aggressive. With me. Minding me even in the minutest of ways that I have truly found suffocating. Which has led to vast distances between us. However, it is also true that throughout her life she has displayed remarkable powers of acceptance of pain (physical and mental), and the ability to endure it. I have some of that. This ability helped me get through the years 1982-1994. I always felt ('sometimes' felt, because i was not really contextualizing my situation) that I was my mother's daughter, especially in this regard.
So, she stayed awake in that heat. In the heat of Kolkata in May. Girl from the hills. No complains. Yesterday, I asked her about this. She said, not only did the heat keep her alive, but also the sound of the trams that plied Harrison Road. They plied till 12 midnight, each day.
And then after the noise of the trams died down, the street dwellers right below her window, would start chatting. About their daily woes. Some beggars. Some people who were too poor to rent a place to stay in the city. So they stayed on the pavements.
What a life!!
Was interesting getting a face of the postgraduate hostel on Harrison Road that my mother stayed in during her studying of the M.A. in Philosophy at the University of Calcutta.
There was no electricity in the building. No fans at night. And she was from Shillong which was cool even in the summer. Even today one sometimes needs a cardigan in May. But my mother was a great one for acceptance and tolerance. She still continues to have it. She had a femur bone transplant in 2014, after a great fall and she was 80, then. Not a word of complaint. She had a gall bladder operation in 2015. That too, she bore quietly. Really, quite extraordinary.
I mean she is aggressive. With me. Minding me even in the minutest of ways that I have truly found suffocating. Which has led to vast distances between us. However, it is also true that throughout her life she has displayed remarkable powers of acceptance of pain (physical and mental), and the ability to endure it. I have some of that. This ability helped me get through the years 1982-1994. I always felt ('sometimes' felt, because i was not really contextualizing my situation) that I was my mother's daughter, especially in this regard.
So, she stayed awake in that heat. In the heat of Kolkata in May. Girl from the hills. No complains. Yesterday, I asked her about this. She said, not only did the heat keep her alive, but also the sound of the trams that plied Harrison Road. They plied till 12 midnight, each day.
And then after the noise of the trams died down, the street dwellers right below her window, would start chatting. About their daily woes. Some beggars. Some people who were too poor to rent a place to stay in the city. So they stayed on the pavements.
What a life!!
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