Mrs.Bina Devi Bhattacharyya: Forgiveness Personified.

At this very moment I wish I was Gorki and with some deft touches could portray my mother, Late Bina Devi Bhattacharyya for what she really was. Even if I were, I doubt it if I could ever do justice to her character adequately.
She was the best mother in the world for me. I trust my Ma enough to believe what she told my grandfather, Haridas Siddhantabagish had remarked about her : “ Ekta bhadraloker meyeke bari niye esechi”(I have brought a gentleman’s daughter to my house) and all her life, my Ma tried to lead her life by this remark. When grandpa finally bought the ancestral home at Deblane, my Ma offered all her wedding jewellery to him for the purpose. Though Dadu (grandfather) paid her back everything once he fell into good times, he never forgot this act of selflessness of my Ma.
Ma was the eldest daughter of a very learned man, Mr.Akshay Kr.Bhattacharjee. Though just like my paternal grandfather, he was also a Sanskrit scholar, that was all they had in common! A Professor of Sreerampore College, West Bengal, he was a very amicable, humble man, a gentleman to the core, who believed in keeping a low profile. At the collage, Mr Kerry, who was the Principal at that time, much taken with my maternal grandpa’s scholarly excellence, pursuits and simplicity, had asked him to translate The Gita, the most treasured book of the Hindus, into Bengali from the original Sanskrit. The manuscript can still be found in the library of the college even today.
But more than her father, her mother had a greater influence on her. My grandmother, Mrs. Sarala Bala Devi(I am ashamed to say that I am not even sure of the first name of my maternal grandma), was an enigma. Dressed in white, as she had lost her husband by the time I can remember her, she reminded me of Atri Muni’s wife as depicted in a poem of the class-x textbook, entitled Sree Ramer Atri Munir Ashram Gaman. She was a great lady with a scholarly bent of mind, far too advanced for her age, in the words of my eldest brother, Dr.Debesh Bhattacharya, who is a much-travelled man and has seen quite a lot of the world.
Though Ma could not study further than standard-VI (She got married by the time she was only 13!), she was extremely talented. She was a topper all through and had a tremendous memory. Even in the last years of her life, she could recite the poems she had learned during her school days like the one that goes:
Little drops of water,/ Little grains of sand. Make the mighty ocean/ And the pleasant land ……. without any problem whatsoever.
A loving daughter and sister, she tried to treat all her siblings fair and square. They were also quite fond of her and used to visit us often. She was also fiercely protective and proud of her children till the last. It was always difficult to tell, who, among her 12 children, was the most favourite. The large number of children might have been a matter of shame for many, but looking at it in retrospect now, when many of her offspring are gone, it does not seem a criminal offence anymore!
Naturally, such a large family without enough financial means and support, as my father was the sole bread-earner then and a hapless victim of fate by the time he was only 48 , demanded lots of sacrifices from Ma on a regular basis. She always accepted the hazards of life uncomplainingly. Once, when she was about to sit down for her lunch and she was always the last one to do so, a relative turned up, famished. Ma did not hesitate to offer him her share, without letting him know for a minute that the food he was devouring was, in fact, her share!
As her sons and daughters started growing up, she must have hoped for better days, that all her abysmal days of pain and hardship would soon be gone. She was yet to learn about the ways of the World. As her sons started growing up, they had to go to different places for survival and sustenance. Some of my brothers had also got married by then and things were not what my Ma thought they would be. Despite what the pundits might say, I think, distance and time always make people grow less fond of the near and dear ones. Her uniqueness of character never let her be the domineering type and towards the end of her life, lots of differences cropped up in the family. One scene that hurts me most is Ma sitting on the couch in the baitakkhana ( the conference room),with two of her granddaughters on either side, helplessly weeping her heart out; when outside in the courtyard, we, her dream and pride, were busy shouting at one another settling scores. Even then Ma was fortunate in having the love and respect of almost all her children till her last breath.
In an age, when criticizing the in-laws was not the accepted norm of the day, when the Mothers-in-law literally reigned supreme and their dominance over their daughters-in-law was at its height, Ma was unlike the quintessential daughter-in-law of today and carried out her daughterly duties to the best she was capable of. Her jovial narration of how grandma rebuked her once for overcooking the rice: “Pindi debe chhelera, bauer hate pindi nebo keno?” (My sons will give me the rice offerings after my death, why should I take it from my daughter-in-law when I am still alive?) had more to do with the feel of days gone by, than a genuine grievance against her mother-in-law. She might not have been the epitome of all thing glamorous, but people of 41 Deblane continue to think highly of her.
I learned all the Best Lessons of Life from my late mother and I intend to write about them separately somewhere, some other time. But it goes without saying that she was an extra-ordinary human being, especially for someone who got married so early in life. She was my father’s number Uno fan and simply her0-sorshipped him. She tried to indulge all his moods and whims alike,almost ritualistically, with excessive love and loyalty. Towards the end of his life, my baba would often say that if there is a life after death, he would love to have my mother as his wife again.
Life would have been quite fair to her if only we, her children, had bothered to give her company in the last few years of her life, when she desperately needed us the most, instead of leaving it to the daily-paid nurses working in shifts. But we all, I reckon, had our own worlds to take care of, while she was slowly withering away. She was a selfless woman and never really cared for her own interests. She could have had pots of money, had she really wanted, but the graceful manner in which Ma refused any offer of financial support from most of her sons and daughters was a lesson in itself.
If there is any one quality that stands out and sets her a few rungs above the rest, it was her forgiving nature. The seeds of disintegration of the family started with Baba’s palpable deviance from filial duty, loyalty and loss of authority subsequently. I dread thinking what might have happened to Lt.Joghesh Bhattacharyya’s family, if ma had not kept her cool and acted in a manner befitting her characteristic poise and grace.
Everyone thinks the world of his/her mother. I only wish and pray that this wonderful world of ours, is full of women like my late Ma. The world would be much more trouble, tremor, tension-free then and full of Love, Compassion, Sacrifice and Forgiveness.
May The Almighty bless her soul wherever she happens to be. Proud of you, Ma, and love you always.

To be continued …..