Dear Aai,
It’s three years today since you left this world. Life has changed in this time in more ways than I can describe; and I have changed too. That I miss you in every walk of life is a euphemism of giant proportions. I feel the impact of your absence everywhere, in everything. Having gone through the loss of one parent, I thought I knew what to expect. How wrong I was. I had no idea what one small difference in the two situations could mean – that when we lost Baba, we had you!
You were gone in a moment – no intimation, no warning, no good-bye; you just left, never to return! It took me a while even to grapple at the meaning of what had happened. It felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs! I gasped and I choked, I faded and I floundered, trying to make meaning of it all, but wasn’t able to; and when I regained my senses, I realised that the world outside was just as it was, but my world had changed inexorably, in ways I could not even begin to fathom, let alone express. It was tough, Aai, very tough! And the usual ear I would have turned to to empty my heart, the embrace that I needed to insulate me from the pain, the pat that could reassure me that all would be well, was nowhere around to soothe me this time! The shock wave that was set off by your departure sent my entire inner world into a spin with such force that everything – thoughts, emotions, intuition, memories, dreams – everything went into a tizzy, into a churn.
When something churns, things that are settled deep at the bottom rush up to the surface – my internal turmoil led to something similar. I always knew what you meant to me, your influence on me, your impact on me. This consciousness was at a deep, sub-conscious level; from there, the upturn of my heart brought it to the conscious surface, making it more real and visual than ever. Images began to crystallise at the conscious level of my thoughts, where I could now see you in the full, expansive stature that you held in my life –
You were my strength, my support, that I always knew was mine to lean on.
You were my inspiration, my verve, the spring of energy that revived me when I was tired and beaten.
You were the well of wisdom I drank from, sometimes grudgingly, to see light.
The anticipation of pride on your face was my motivation to do well.
Your pat on my back was the fuel of confidence I needed.
You were my guardrails that I knew would keep me on my path.
You were the lap of comfort that I knew I could curl up in, when I needed the warmth.
You were always by my side, in my happiest hour and in my darkest depths, rooting for me, working to ensure I was up and running, cheering me on.
You were my barometer into myself, that instantly detected a disturbance even before I could, by just hearing the tone of my “Hello” on the phone.
You were the unconditional love that enveloped and accepted me as a whole person, with my strengths and my faults!
You were my rock, my pillar, my heart, my cushion, my conscience, my mirror.
I can go on and on…
I had no idea how many times I thought about you in a day, until after you went away, I started catching myself in the midst of a thought like “I must tell this to Aai”, or “Let me ask Aai about…” or “Aai told me this, I should have listened to her…”. Obviously, you were in my thoughts and feelings all this while, but at such an unconscious level that I had no idea about it. Just like I am not aware I am breathing, I just breathe; similarly, I wasn’t aware that I was thinking of you, I just did! As I now became painfully aware of it, it felt like that giant space you held in my life had been left empty for me to deal with. It hurt, it really did.
Well, the good and bad thing about life and time is that they go on, and they pull one to move along with them. I had to move on with my life too, even while I was trying to deal with the lack of your heretofore pervasive presence. I kept remembering you, thinking of you, reminding myself of things you would advise, trying to vicariously savour the taste of my favourite dishes that only you could make so well. The visual of a vacant space often flashed in my mind at such times, making me feel miserable, pricking my heart and sending a pang of pain that set my inner world into a twirl again. I disliked that visual and felt there was something wrong with it, but the pain and the spin inside obliterated all else.
One day, as I was conversing with myself on a long walk, that visual flashed at me again; I braced myself for the by-now-familiar pain to follow. This time around however, it didn’t. Instead, a thought struck me like a flash of lightning – in that light, I could clearly see what was wrong with that visual, which had bothered me so long. That visual assumed that you occupied physical space in my mind and my life, which was now empty. Nothing could be farther from the truth – in the illumination of that insight, I perceived precisely how you were occupying my mind – you weren’t occupying “space”, no… yet you were there, just THERE; without occupying space, without being visible, you were just THERE; seamlessly woven into my consciousness, you were THERE. No, you were not an entity that had vacated a spot, you were the perfume which was so permeated in that space, that it was just there, you could never vacate my mindspace, even if you wanted to! It was a whiff of that perfume that brought your thoughts and memories with it from time to time. I stopped in my tracks as this realisation swept over me, making me feel your presence inside me and my heart. You were here right now with me!
Just like the rising sun spreads its golden yellow glow over the world as it emerges into the sky, so did this newly-dawned realisation bathe me in a warm glow of joy and love, with the awareness that you are and will always be with me, inside my heart. Your unconditional love, your caring nature, your generosity, your kindness, your attention to detail, your commitment, your courage, your fearlessness, your determination, your sensitive perception, your vast intellect, your prowess over languages, your energy, your enthusiasm, your vivaciousness, your beauty, your immaculate appearance, …. are all patterns intricately woven into the fabric of my heart like the delicate threadwork on traditional silk weaves you so dearly loved – they cannot be “unwoven” from the fabric, they cannot be taken out of me – they are my treasure for a lifetime that will always be with me to feel and experience, even though you are no longer around. You will thus live on in my heart, still playing the role you played all my life, now from within me. I will still feel your love, hear a warning when I am too close to my guardrails, feel your pride at my success, sense your hand on my head with its purest blessings; all I need to do is to look within.
Ever since that day and that realisation, my relationship with my loss has changed. Of course I still miss you, and I always will, but now I know where and how to access you, talk to you, feel your presence in the waft of the perfume you have left in my air. No one is immortal, but one can live longer than one’s mortal existence if one can become the scent that permeates minds and hearts. That perfume which is pervasive without being visible or invasive will be smelt and felt long after one’s years, because it does not need a human form to exist. That person will live on in the whiff of that perfume they leave behind, the whiff of immortality! You, your life and the way you lived have always been my inspiration, and here again, in this reflection, you inspire me as a role model to emulate.
To you Aai, to your memory, to everything you mean to me, to the whiff of pervasive, immortal perfume that you are in my life, a long inhale, a warm hug and a humble bow! नमो नम: |
Lovingly you and yours.
Waah Vaishali. A simple and pure ode for an equally simple and pure relation.
That ‘whiff’ will never go away as long as we live. Neither will the blessings. They stay with us and guide us to accept mortality and yet understand the immortal within. I am happy you could process this all, will not be easy but nothing in life is.
P.S. You need to write regularly, now.
Thanks so much, Charu. I love your phrase “accept mortality yet understand the immortal within”. Yes, that’s the only way, however hard.
Dear Vaishali , you have perfectly emoted every girl’s sentiment after she has lost her Mother. Your words brought me solace, for i too feel my Aai’s presence around me, within me, in the depths of my heart and she always answers , even today!
Yes, you’re right, I represent almost every girl’s sentiment towards her mother. I hadn’t realised it when I wrote.
How we take our parents’ presence in our lives for granted…only to get a rude jolt when they are snatched away… And to deal with loss takes a very long time, and the route is tortuous…from denial to disbelief to grief to final acceptance. You have brought out that journey beautifully Vaishali…superb write-up!
You’re so right. We take them for granted. Now that we see it, it’s easier to accept our kids taking us for granted 🙂
So well captured Vaishali! I could relate to every single word as been through that myself , almost around the same time since April 2024 when we lost our mom.
Our parents presence , guidance will be there throughout with us and as you mentioned we need to be the same role model for our next generation kids
Keep writing and sharing with us, it truly motivates us!
Thanks. I’m glad it touched a chord with you. Yes, they will always be with us.
This is very very touching Vaishali…I can only imagine the bond you must have shared with your mother 🤍
Acceptance is so difficult to attain…am glad you have reached that level.
And equating a presence to a perfume is such a beautiful thought!
Thanks, Shilpa!
I had tears in my eyes Vaishali…I feel the ache for my father every single day and then some days I am at peace with the same realization that you have so beautifully expressed.
Glad it touched you and reminded you of your father. So sorry for your loss. I can only say – I understand!
I had tears in my eyes Vaishali…I feel the ache for my father every single day and then some days I am at peace with the same realization that you have so beautifully expressed. Hugs to you and all in this group who have experienced the loss of their parent.
Thanks so much, Vinti, for your heartfelt comment.
Dear Vaishali after reading i felt like may be I too wanted to say all this felt similar emotion which were unexpressed for 20 years now after my aai left I am at loss of words to tell so touching ur each word is
What can I say? So glad it touched such an emotional chord!
This feels like you are describing each one of our pain, who has lost their mom. The unconditional love that our moms gave us and how they stood by us in everything, good and bad. We were their pride always and how protective they were of us.
It’s a beautifully written piece, encompassing all your emotions Vaish.
I am happy that you finally could write all this and pour your heart out.
I struggle even today to see my mom’s picture. I get so uneasy just thinking that she will never come back.
We can never be prepared, whatever anyone may say.
Thank you for sharing your very very personal space with us. 🙏😊♥️
Thank you!
Ohh dear. The moment I started reading tears started rolling down. I could relate as I lost my grandmother who was more than a mom to me. Last days she could not listen but I use to talk to her on phone. After she was gone I would call my mom enquiring about her. It took me many months to come to the term that she is no more. The bond is so so eternal with the person we called Aai. I had my mother in law who also was more than a mom to me. Her demise also was very painful. Even now I feel their presence as if they are around me taking care of me. Thank you Vaishali for bringing all the fond memories flashing back.
Glad it connected with you. Thank you for connecting with my feelings!
Everyone has to go through this pain. Having lost my father last year, it was just as sudden. I was so engrossed in working with the hospital doctors to ensure he gets the best treatment, and that he returns home; And he just he left us. Such was his personality that he befriended anyone within minutes and got them laughing at his jokes and even at the hospital the staff/Doctors just loved him! I feel so sad when I look back and ask myself, should I have spent time talking to him when he was in the hospital… What was he feeling or going through, what must he have wanting to tell me, and I was not there! I keep saying… move on but it will take time I know … and that void is deep there inside.
Your note about your mum is endearing; and the bond you both had was heavenly. I am glad you took time to process it and now that you have come to terms, the essence of her pure love and her presence within you will make you peaceful.
Keep writing Vaishali! Loads of hugs and love!
Thank you for sharing about your father. That feeling of a void is so familiar; trust me, reframe it, and it will feel different.
When a child is born the umbilical cord is the physical connection severed.That doesn’t happen only once, a similar precious bond is lost when we lose our moms .Remember just as being born was not a loss, this one’s too. Your words depict every child’s emotions.All readers may not be able to pen so eloquently, but you have done it for all.
Lovely read.Also a jolt for someone like me to make the most of the lovely time I have with my mom.
Such a beautiful thought, Dipti – that if severing of the connection at birth is not a loss, why whould it be at death? Thanks for sharing it.
Very Aptly written….very touchy…..it reconnected me with my ordeal….the whole chain of events passed in front of me…thanks
Thank you! Glad it touched a cord with you.
Dear Vaishali,
As I was reading this heart pouring ode to your mom, it brought back so many memories of my interactions with Maushi.
The Mother – Daughter connection is a very special bond. You have penned that love, the loss, the poignant grief & the inner healing process so beautifully. I am proud of you, dear for sharing this with the rest of us.
May her love continue to guide you forever.
With peace & love,
Beautifully expressed Vaishali. So heartfelt and endearing. One realisation that came to me as I was reading it was that the cycle always turns. Just as our parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts and other significant figures leave us, it’s our turn to step up and be that guide, support to others that one day we’ll leave behind. Through your blog, you’ve done just that. Thank you 💖
Thanks, Sarang. Yes, you are so right. It’s now our turn to try and be the perfume for others.
Beautiful, moving tribute to Aunty!
Thanks so much, Anshu.
Very touching! She was very warm and kind! We continue to remember her fondly!
Thanks, Ritika. Yes, she lives on in memories.
Dear Vaishali, किती छान लिहिले आहेस. Very touching and so very true. Even after 20 years – losing my Aai in 2003 and Baba in 2011, the pain is raw. However, reading your experience about their very existence being interwoven with us, I hope I get the strength to start the healing process. Do keep writing ✍️
Take care, Pramod.
Thanks so much, Pramod. I am so glad it spoke to you.
Dearest Vaishu Mavshi…
You have given voice to many who share the same excruciating agony of first losing a parent and furthermore vehement ordeal to disentangle the complex intertwined thoughts and feelings which are full of sorrow, guilt, fear sometimes anger…
As I read along it seemed as if I was reading my own story of loss and slowly as I moved further in your story started discovering clues to fathom the maze of my own thoughts in my mind …
Thank you for sharing this revelation… ❤❤❤❤❤
Thanks so much, dear. If my writing helped you move even a millimetre in your healing journey, I consider myself blessed.