How I found my mother

I thought of ten different ways to narrate this aspect of my life. There is no other way to write this.

The story of how I found my mother…

Scene 1: The grand entry

I have heard this story from my grandmother a lot of times. She was headed to the temple on a sultry Friday when the postman arrived at her doorstep with a telegram.

“Congratulations”, he said…”Lakshmi has been born” (translated from  Tamil)

My grandmother was ecstatic since I was a girl child after a generation. So she went to the temple and got a puja done.

 

Scene 2: Pictures are proof

I have seen so many baby pictures of myself and I looked pretty happy in all of them.

With very little memory of how my childhood really was, I rely on the happiness I see in the eyes of the bonny baby in the pictures.

 

Scene 3: Chaos begins

The next memory I have is of living in a joint family with 2 women and lots of men. Amongst my dad and his brothers and his cousins, I remember being the focus of attention.

And then all that I remember is a power struggle – a game of control.

In that house, my grandmother had the last word. Either by force of the word or by emotional blackmail, she would have her way. I remember her leaving the house so many times and the fear and tension that settled in the house. My father or my uncle would go after her, find her, pacify her and bring her back home.

I remember my parents and me moving out of the house to a one room kitchen house in Dombivali, which would flood up during the monsoon. Although my dad now says that it was for a month. In my memory, it lasted for years. Memory is funny that way. My aunt tells me that my grandmother asked us to leave due to some misunderstanding. But I guess it was okay for me since I had my parents with me.

What I didn’t know was, I would be the peacemaker, a solution to fix that misunderstanding. An unsaid pact was made between my grandmother and my dad that every weekend I would be sent to their house. Every holiday, every weekend, every summer vacation, my grandfather would come to pick me up as soon as school ended and drop me home the evening before my school reopened.

My grandmother still prides upon the fact that I grew up with her and not my mother.

My routine, eating habits and quantities and my life was in control of my grandmother now. I tried to rebel, sneak out but the fear of my grandmother getting upset would overpower any desire of freedom or individuality.

30 years later, I still feel nervous about upsetting her.

 

Scene 4: Satiating men

The emotional chaos, confusion and lack of belonging  intensified when my being was used by several men, over years, to satiate their sexual desires. I needed nurturance, security, my mother’s comforting touch. I wasn’t going to get any of that till my grandmother was around.

 

Scene 5: Where’s my mother?

Meanwhile, my mom spiraled into depression. I remember her going to work, getting exhausted with all the travelling and sleeping for long hours. I guess I also followed that like a dutiful daughter. The perfect solution to all my problems – sleep it off…

I tried to find a mother figure in my aunts. I would ignore my mother and spend loads and loads of time with them, seeking love and nurturance. But although they were nice, it was very clear that they weren’t interested in becoming my mother. They had children of their own to focus on.

 

Scene 6: Don’t be like her

This power drama taught the rest of my aunts not to leave their children, anywhere near my grandmother. Of course, they also gossiped a great deal about how careless and docile my mother was. They tried very hard that their children don’t grow up to be like me – lost and detached…

 

Scene 7: Respite?

 When I grew up into secondary school and my education took precedence, the visits reduced. The control remained. My parents continued to go to work, do their best to be “providing” parents. But I didn’t need things. I needed love. I needed hope. I needed to hear that I will be okay.

So as far as I was concerned, I didn’t have a family.

My search for a happy family continued. I would wander after school to my friends’ houses. Sometimes, even into strangers’ houses trying to find my family, my mother who would take care of me. No one would know where I am – my parents would go through great trouble to find out where I was. And when they would find me, I would be so angry that I had to go back home.

I was punishing them.

Scene 8: Loneliness

Years passed. The bed-wetting stopped. Menstruation started. Abuse stopped. Self –loathing started.

The in-built talent that I harnessed was to pretend to be okay. I laughed, joked, was friendly with the entire world but my parents.

They had failed me – miserably.

I had failed too – I was unlovable – not worth anything  - not worth living. 

 

Scene 9: Compensation

I sunk deeper and deeper into my own misery – angry with myself. Pretending to be okay with the world but waiting for the volcano to erupt.

I sought answers, justice and hoped for some love from somewhere.

I continued to spend hours and days with my “friends and their families”, embedding myself into their lives to help them in some way so that I get a family in return for my help.

I started gathering knowledge to know myself, others, life, God and most of all, justice.

 

Scene 10: Therapy

 My teacher and also my therapist brought in the ray of hope into my life.   

I took me 2 years to trust her to let her help me. She was the only person who waited…patiently…

Finally, I mattered to someone, although my logical mind knew that I am only a client for her. I wanted to believe that I mattered.

 

Scene 11: Breakdown

I hit rock bottom, several times in the next few years.

Failed, abusive and emotionally unavailable relationships made sure that I stayed in those rock bottoms.

My ex asked me a life-changing question, “Why do you get so involved with other people’s families?” 

My exes taught me a lot of life lessons.

 

Scene 12: Tolerance

I learnt to live with myself more easily, effortlessly – not accepting that I am okay but accepting that I am not.

I still yearned for a stable family. I was still angry with mine.

I expected them to get it, to understand, to comfort me.

This time, I immersed myself in work. Working late nights, over weekends, I managed to stay afloat.

 

Scene 13: I quit

After years of slogging at work and my ex-boyfriend asking me “to get a life” I finally quit my job.

I had to get a life – my life back.

I decided a road trip with my mom to our native place. My father and grandmother were already there.

I was terrified. My fear shot through the roof since I would always rely on myself for support. I still didn’t trust my mom to take care of me.

But Life had different plans!

I got stuck in so many situations and froze. My mom comforted me, calmed me down, brought in clarity.

Just what I had craved for so many years…The wall collapsed and I became her little girl again…

At 38, I finally found my mother!