When I was a toddler and teenager, I asked my mother tons of questions and unlimited suggestions to change and improve things according to my thinking. I don’t recall a single time when I was advised to keep quiet regardless of my silly questions or annoying suggestions. Funnily, I used to tell my mother that she should teach the world her ways to live a life of principles and virtues. In reply, she used to tell me to write about her. I asked her, should I start writing now? She emphasized that I can write about her but only when she’s not with me anymore. 

I never thought and would not ever be able to think about my life without my mother. It has been a long 21 years since my mother physically departed from us in 2001. I don’t think a single moment has passed without having her in my mind and heart after her physical departure from us. I can understand the real meaning of her spoken words a way better and much clearer now than before. I can understand the rationale behind why she said things in a particular way during those days. I can see the results of those decisions made by her. Her foresight and a deep understanding in her mind about these virtues that she decided to live upon no matter what is remarkable, amazing and very brave in my opinion. 

We all know that birth and death are the cycles of life. When you lose your parents, life never gets back to normal again ever. I wonder, did my mother know that I will write about her one day? I am certain she does. I still feel her virtual blessings around and near me whenever I need it, at least, I can share that. I have no caliber to even think about the journey forward just by myself. Some divine forces are helping me to clear the clouds and travel further up in the universe.

Today, I take that bid and wish to make that conversation a reality. I do apologies for not following that set of instructions until now. Furthermore, I obey the “order” now with a heartfelt acceptance of all unpayable debts of my life. I agree it’s late. I hope it’s not too late. This dormant spark has been fueled by a series of events in my life. I wish to share one of those events that have influenced me the most and more likely helped me to bloom my roses in the desert, I believe. 

When my father passed away in 2016, I received a forwarded email from my brother. It was written by Param Pujya Mota Faibaa and Param Pujya Mota Fuvaji (Uncle-In-Law and Aunty-In-Law). I wish to share it here, as it is with generous permission from Pujya Mota Faibaa and Pujya Mota Fuvaji. 

****************************************************************************************

From: “praful bakeri” 

Date: Feb 15, 2016 1:15 PM

Subject: Re:

To: money.multiply

February 15, 2016

Dear Snehalbhai and Amibahen,

In our eight decades, we have had many occasions to attend Besna occasions.  What impressed us most was the security, parking management, footwear management, very comfortable chairs – well-cushioned with suitable footrests, the nice well-versed team of artists, well-controlled hall temperature, etc. There was neither loud talking nor even murmurs.  Meals were also well planned with a minimum time lag in between.

As to the equation between Dad and Ami, we still wonder as to whom to envy more.  Come to think of it, Ami had never been a daughter-in-law. She has always been a daughter-in-love. Even during Besna, she had to use her full-size handkerchief like a pair of wipers at intermittent speed. Our impression has been further strengthened by what Manishabahen confided about Ami with tears in her eyes during the meal.  By the way, Aarohi (Taral’s daughter) at London also talks highly animatedly about Manishabahen and her family. The portrait/photograph of Dad seems to do full justice to his personality, with eyes full of soul.

British Philosopher, Bertrand Russel once observed:

Individual human existence is like a river – small at first, narrowly contained within its banks, and rushing passionately past boulders and over waterfalls.  Gradually, the river grows wider, the banks recede, the waters flow more quietly and in the end, without any visible break, they become merged in the sea, and painlessly lose their being.  The man who, in old age, can see life this way, will not suffer from the fear of death, since the things he cares for, will continue.

God’s blessings.

With Prayers and Jai Jindendra

Padma Foi and Prafull Fua

BAKERI GROUP 

****************************************************************************************

To my surprise, while reading this forwarded email, all the miseries and pain of losing my father and mother converted into the Saudade with a swift turn. I could not resist replying to Param Pujya Mota Fuvaji that day. I replied with the word “Gharcholu” added to the subject line. This is the first time I dare to splash even those misty, unspoken and unwritten springs of words in my lifetime. The yearnings have hinged around in the deep down corners of my stone frozen heart for years, I guess. 

I felt destiny has decided on the journey already that I am just about to embark on. The hearts need to be blended well together and about to take deep dives into the depth of the oceanic inklings. The flights are already in the sky across the glittering globe. The tornado of thoughts taking shapes from my fickle mind. The vision of the journey is still very hazy and obscure though absolute and subtle. There is a ray of hope during the dawn. The blink of a spark has enlightened the millions of stars in my virtual wonderland of happiness. I feel I have found the purpose of my life from now onward. 

Pujya Mota Fuvaji has recognized the virtues of my parents immensely well with his telescopic foresight. This one email has become the origin of “KUSUMANU: The Paragons of Virtues” in this digital era. I strongly believe that you need to live upon these virtues to recognize them well. “Talk the talk, walk the walk” is very easy to recite and extremely hard to follow and implement, I bet. It can cost you a fortune to believe in and live upon them well in your day to day life. In return, it can earn you and your future generations a fortune too. The success that you earn through this hardest, toughest, longest and the most honest way, lasts longer as well. Fruits of the mango tree take time to grow and reap. Right? 

I am still thinking about this email after many years. I am certain that nothing else will ever wake me up from my years of deep sleep like “Kumbhkaran”. I am still standing in the muddy water and have no way out. Or in other words, chilling out in the luxuries of the world that only two to three per cent of the world population can avail of. It is extremely normal to lose ourselves in the mayhem of everyday life. I have so many excuses for myself not to pursue this mission further. I feel fortunate for this wake-up call through the forwarded email and the virtues of those words that have stayed very close to my heart always. Regardless, I am on my mother’s order now and this will not change by any means till my last breath, I believe. I take the liberty to convert my helplessness into empowerment. 

I do accept and acknowledge the support and feedback from my families and friends. This has helped me immensely to strive for persistence with empathy in my writing. I sincerely hope that these treasures of memories will help and guide us to find a way forward to a better and brighter future. I hope this can help us to reflect on ourselves first and then guide others to make the world a better place to live in for all living beings.

Thank you again for your time reading my mother’s teaching with my learning through “KUSUMANU”. I sincerely appreciate your developmental feedback anytime so that I can improve. Please feel free to reach out at kusumanu65@gmail.com anytime at your convenience, please.

Before you read further, please be considerate that I am not a trained writer or author. I seek forgiveness from my readers if I have hurt you by my thoughts, words, deeds or actions knowingly or unknowingly.

Yours loving, 

Manisha Sanghavi 

12th February 2022 

London, United Kingdom