Homecoming

The air-conditioned interiors of the airport were repose against the harsh summer winds of the outside. The passengers of all classes were trying to mimic the supposed decency and elegancy of regular travellers. Air-traffic has increased in the recent years with emergence of the tech savvy neo-middle class. Braving the choking rush at the security check, Sanjay finally managed to get through the frisking process. He was an integral part of the aforementioned group but given to his solo presence at the airport, he could be safely omitted from the uncivilized mob of line-breakers.

As he awaited the arrival of his flight, Sanjay recalled his first visit to an airport. The one hour

long journey from home to airport, father’s intellectual demonstration in the viewer’s gallery as a flight landed on the runway, his quick shrieks of excitement as the flight neared their view point, all those innocent emotions came back reeling to his mind. He was about ten years old then and it took a lot of assurances and promises from mother to divert him away from the demand to board the giant. Sanjay smiled unconscious of his surroundings as he remembered the way he was dragged out of the airport by his embarrassed father who resolved to never take him on an outing again.

The next time however when he could finally book a ticket to fly on-board was after fifteen years since the incident. He was assigned an on-site project by the company that he was working for and he had to take an international flight to a foreign land. The entire process of availing passport and visa was shadowed by a series of prayers and pilgrimages by mother. He still remembers the sacred thread tied to his hand to scare away any evil forces that tried to attack him as he crossed the sea. On his return he was supposed to take a holy bath in a sacred temple shrine to wash away the sin of crossing the sea. The memories came in a reel and vied with each other to bring a smile on his face. He couldn’t help himself from smiling at the ignorance of the customs that his mother so earnestly followed. The thought of mother brought him back to his journey on hand.

By then the announcer had already announced the arrival of his flight and he made way towards the checking counter to avoid the rushing first-timer crowd. The first time he boarded a flight, his entire kith and kin had accompanied him to see him off. He remembered the shrill cry given by his friend on hearing the announcement. The way he was hurried to the checking point has been a recurring memory in the airport, every single time he boarded a flight there-after. As he comfortably seated himself for the hour long journey, he once again started digging through the carelessly heaped load of memories to recall the last time he saw his mother. It must be not more than five years since he left for the national capital. He vaguely remembered to have visited her a year and half before the transfer, which gives an approximate estimate of six and half years since he last saw her. To be exact, his son Roshan was two years old at that time and going by Roshan’s age which is around eight years by then, his calculation once again seemed to land at the same figure.

Six and half years and what would be his mother’s reaction on seeing him? When he was little, he used to cry for her if she didn’t show up at the door by the time he reached home from school. As he grew older, he stopped looking for her though as time passed by it was she who started awaiting his arrival. Mother was a great cook and as he moved out of the city for graduation, if he ever remembered missing anything from home then it was nothing but mother’s art at culinary. On his every visit to home, he would pack a decent amount of pickles and curry-powders to compensate the hostel-food. Mother’s pickles were a craze at hostel mess too. He had to hide few contents for himself in order to sustain the long stay at the residential.

The thought of mother’s dishes brought a sensuous tickle on his throat. He wished the journey to end soon so that he could once again have a sumptuous meal to his heart’s content. He visualised mother sitting in front of the television set may be a little stooped by now with whitened hair as seen in the daily-serials that she so dearly follows. He blushed at the thought of the surprise that he had planned for her. He could almost feel the tears flowing down her cheeks on seeing him. Since father’s demise, mother was living all alone. Her sentimental bonding with the house rejected his offer to take her with him. As years passed, the frequency of his visits dwindled with time and after Roshan was born, he couldn’t manage to finalise a visit home till date.

Sanjay was staring out of the cab window as he allowed the thoughts to continue reeling in his mind without disturbing his physical movements. The arrival at the airport, boarding a cab and the journey towards home all happened as if in a trance. By the time the cab stopped in front of his home, he was in no state to believe the fact that he was actually back at home. Adjusting his sling bag across his shoulder, he creaked open the old gate that carried him across the street sewer in his childhood. There was a sense of nostalgia all around him.

As he entered the house, he was taken aback to see a huge number of people sitting in the living room. None of them seemed to look familiar. A youngster approached him and asked him if he needed any help. Trying to fight back the welling up emotions, he asked in a soft tone, “Is this the house of Mr. Bhushan?” 

“Sorry Sir. You seemed to be at the wrong address”, the young man replied. 

Sanjay’s first instinct was to walk out of the place to run away from the house as far away as possible. But as an after-thought he asked in a much doubtful tone, “Ms. Sushila? She used to live here few years ago”.

“Sorry sir, you don’t seem to understand. This house belongs to Amma, the founder of Amma Society. If you want to meet her you can go to the office in M G Road”, the youngster seemed to be in a hurry. There were lots of people waiting for his audience. They had some forms in their hands and most of them seemed to be in distress. Sanjay walked out of the house and looked around helplessly. It was just six and half years since he visited his mother. How could this Amma Society spring out of nowhere in his own property? Where has mother gone? He had been talking to her over phone once in a while. He vaguely remembers mother trying to tell him something in the beginning but he rarely had time for her chatter. Off late she also confined her discussion to mere exchange of pleasantaries. He decided to meet the so called Amma to get an answer for his springing questions about his mother and his house. He took an auto-rickshaw to reach his destination. What followed next froze him to stone.

The Society was no larger than a group of thatched huts. There was a painted archway proudly announcing the name of the Society. The auto-driver showed him to the entrance and left the spot without asking for payment. “Money has no role to play in Mother’s shadow”, he said gesturing towards the arch. Sanjay was taken aback at this strange behaviour of the auto-driver. As he moved in, he encountered people of all classes immersed in one sort of work or another. None of them seemed to be idle.

As he walked further in, he was beckoned by a sweating youngster to help him with the load in his hands. A surprised Sanjay hesitantly extended a helping hand. As they sped with the load to the backyard, Sanjay mustered some courage to ask the young man what the Society was all about. The young man seemed to be shocked at the question. However, he regained his pose soon and asked Sanjay if he was new to the city. Sanjay nodded in affirmation though in reality he had spent his entire childhood and teenage in the embrace of the city.

The young man told him all about the characteristics and functions of the society. The society was all about giving and taking out of free will. It was a platform that brings together patients and doctors, students and teachers, employees and employers, the beggars and the donors. In short Amma Society was all about donating one’s skills for the well-being of the people in need. As reflected by the auto-driver’s words, money had no role to play under the Mother’s roof.

Sanjay began to admire the so called Amma behind all this activity. He felt his feet trembling as he approached her office. “She must be a woman of exemplary features and personality”, he thought within himself as he made way into the small yet well ventilated room. He explored along the puny frame seated on the cushion at the centre of the room with scores of youngsters forming a circle around her. He strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of her face and finally when he could succeed, he knew that was the biggest blow his heart was ever going to face in his lifetime.  “Amma”, he wanted to cry but his voice didn’t seem to give in.

The young man, who told him all about the Society, then started narrating the story of Amma. “Amma was a great cook and a noble soul. When a couple of college students approached her one day requesting her to allow them as paying guests in her house, she offered them to stay with her as long as they want. She herself has a son who lives in a metropolitan. He rarely comes home and thus Amma had all the time in the world to take care of her guests. Her hospitality was so welcoming that soon students started making way to her humble house.  Amma never rejected anyone and thus Amma’s house became a hangout spot for the college students. It was during such period that Amma continuously discoursed about serving others without any selfish gains. The students who insisted on paying back for her services were directed to do so by serving someone in need. That was the foundation stone for Amma Society. Soon, the ideology spread in the college campus and Amma became the centre of all selfless services going on in the city. The Society was built by the college students and since its inception five years ago Amma Society managed to mould the city into a model city”.

The youngster kept chattering about the history of the Society and Amma’s humble being but all that held Sanjay intact was his desire to cross her vision at least once. He stood perplexed, rooted to the spot. After what seemed to be a lifetime mother shifted her gaze towards his direction. The look stoned him further. He didn’t know how to react. Mother however was so happy on seeing him that her eyes couldn’t withhold the overflowing tears. She rushed to him and caressed him to make sure that she was not dreaming. She started questioning him about his journey and his family but words couldn’t find a way through his lips. She asked him if he was hungry and urged him to follow her home to grab a quick meal. Words however didn’t find him deserving enough to cross his lips. Mother smiled at his teary eyes and brushed though his unkempt hair. As she gently caressed his cheeks, he let go off the overflowing stream of tears down his cheeks. As she embraced him, amidst bursts of sorrow, he managed to complain, “I was at home and you weren’t there at the doorway. I was left all alone at the gate”. Mother laughed at his grumble and gently gave him a pat on the shoulder which for once relaxed his racing heart and put his nervous being at rest.

Unconditional love and selfless service are the guiding principles behind motherhood. If one tends to give wings to these principles, then there shall be no boundaries to the spread of selfless love in the world.