“Mummy Ni Yadh Che?
This year marked the 23rd anniversary of the death of my first mom, Rita. While I didn’t get to connect with her distant family and friends in Mumbai, I did get to hear about how she lived. Whether voluntarily or prompted, my dad’s family shared many stories with me. They said that they can’t believe my dad got so lucky in marriage…twice. They told me how she preached independence to all of the younger women encouraging them to “travel and see the world”. They were in shock when my mom had no qualms in asking my dad to do household chores and baby tasks – it was the first time they saw a man changing diapers. They said her Mumbai-American Gujarati was apparently hilarious (I wonder what they think of mine…). I heard how when she saw my dad’s sister’s home she found it unacceptable and, together, they bought her a new house. And they told me about her beauty and grace, how Priti and I have her eyes, and how when Priti’s hair is curly, she looks just like her.
When I asked “mara pela mummy ne yadh che? (do you remember my first mom?)”, I always heard the same response:
“How could we ever forget her? No one could.”
finding rickshaw. 