Amma
Living away from my city of birth - Delhi for almost a decade now, I often have flashes from the days spent in my family home located in a western suburb, about 15kms from the center. Childhood memories flood my mind and life here in London - a melange constituting of old friends, school, neighborhood, family, summer holidays, festivals, and extreme heat & cold. However, the one memory that really stands out is that of my Grandmother and Grandfather - Amma and Babaji as I used to call them. There is so much to remember them by, their presence in my formative years a strong pillar of my existence today. And their simple way of life, the most striking and powerful memory that I have of them and indeed that of my childhood.
Amma was a devout and staunch woman, never afraid to loudly voice her strong opinions on everything from politics, religion, food to cricket! At 4feet 6inches, her short stature was never a hindrance in making her beliefs heard and presence felt. Primary school educated, I think most of her beliefs and indeed daily rituals were shaped by her faith and devotion to Jainism (an ancient religion founded on the principle of non-violence). Aside from spending a good few hours of the day in prayers, she had incorporated various nuances and rituals in her daily life in alignment with the teachings of Jainism. These included but were not limited to dieting, bathing, sleeping and even talking! She followed a strict Jain vegetarian diet, folded away cotton mattresses with only a 'takhat' (traditional wooden bed) to sit on during day-time, and even kept a daily 'maun vrat' (time attributed to silence) for an hour in the evenings.
At around 6am, the house would reverberate with the sound of her clapping loudly, she believed that clapping for several minutes in the morning could give her body the big energy boost to start the day by making blood flow faster through the veins. This was also the only form of physical exercise she was able to do as she suffered from poorly legs and a hip fracture that went bad and confined her to using a supporting apparatus (commonly referred to as a walker) in the last 15 years of her life. This was followed by a daily bath using a steel bucket, lota (round pot made of polished brass) and sandalwood soap. The Mysore sandalwood soap bar was one of the few luxuries she allowed herself, for good reason of course, as it left her smelling fresh and looking vibrant even in her late 80s. I should mention that no one - not even she - knew her exact age or date of birth, it was all guesswork - based on references to anecdotes and seasons as per the Hindu calendar.
Post her unhurried bathing routine, she would spend up to two hours in morning prayers - reading ancient Jain scriptures and reciting the much revered 'Namokar mantra' using rudraksha beads (seeds used for prayers by Hindus). She found peace in her quiet prayers at home without the grand puja ceremonies or tiring rituals held by others at temples. She would then break her fast of up to 14 hours (from sunset to late morning of the following day) with a glass of milk, some nuts, and an occasional banana.
This modest breakfast would take her up to lunch which usually comprised of lentils, vegetables, roti (Indian puffed-up bread), and rice, staple lunch served in most homes across North India. She independently cooked lunch till quite late in her old age - responsible for feeding Babaji and two hungry kids (me and my brother of course!). The food that she prepared was special without being complicated! Cooked with passion and belief in age-old practices with utmost care on hygiene and discretion, lunch-time kitchen was a fortress which we could trespass only with her explicit permission. Touching anything was a misdemeanor and entering with our shoes unthinkable. I used to be so fascinated (still am) with her use of 'palla' (loose end of saree) to strain hot steamy rice or to hold a hot roti while applying ghee (clarified butter). And those fluffy rotis - round, light and puffed up like hot air balloons, sheer bliss! The only way lunch would be served was hot and fresh which meant that Babaji and us kids had to eat first. Once satiated upon seeing us well-fed, she would sit on a rickety old wooden stool by the hob and eat with her fingers.
Post-lunch it would be time for a quick nap, followed by tea and Parle-G (our 'go to' biscuits) at about 4.30pm. Babaji would go-off to the park with his post-retirement buddy Mr. Gujral (or Gujral 'saab' as he was commonly known) and Amma would chit-chat with us and anyone else who cared to listen. After then she would have a modest meal comprising of homemade flatbreads and spicy yogurt or some such quick fix before sunset and settle for evening prayers.
This was a typical day for Amma which remained unchanged over decades except for when it became a necessity to adapt due to extreme old age. Her stable presence and unwavering routine provided the foundations for my overall emotional well-being, so important for ones like me living away from their native lands.
Following this sneak peek and introduction to Amma, I will explore her way of life in more detail to discover ideas that could inspire me and others to build a more sustainable and satisfying lifestyle.
Amma was a devout and staunch woman, never afraid to loudly voice her strong opinions on everything from politics, religion, food to cricket! At 4feet 6inches, her short stature was never a hindrance in making her beliefs heard and presence felt. Primary school educated, I think most of her beliefs and indeed daily rituals were shaped by her faith and devotion to Jainism (an ancient religion founded on the principle of non-violence). Aside from spending a good few hours of the day in prayers, she had incorporated various nuances and rituals in her daily life in alignment with the teachings of Jainism. These included but were not limited to dieting, bathing, sleeping and even talking! She followed a strict Jain vegetarian diet, folded away cotton mattresses with only a 'takhat' (traditional wooden bed) to sit on during day-time, and even kept a daily 'maun vrat' (time attributed to silence) for an hour in the evenings.
At around 6am, the house would reverberate with the sound of her clapping loudly, she believed that clapping for several minutes in the morning could give her body the big energy boost to start the day by making blood flow faster through the veins. This was also the only form of physical exercise she was able to do as she suffered from poorly legs and a hip fracture that went bad and confined her to using a supporting apparatus (commonly referred to as a walker) in the last 15 years of her life. This was followed by a daily bath using a steel bucket, lota (round pot made of polished brass) and sandalwood soap. The Mysore sandalwood soap bar was one of the few luxuries she allowed herself, for good reason of course, as it left her smelling fresh and looking vibrant even in her late 80s. I should mention that no one - not even she - knew her exact age or date of birth, it was all guesswork - based on references to anecdotes and seasons as per the Hindu calendar.
Post her unhurried bathing routine, she would spend up to two hours in morning prayers - reading ancient Jain scriptures and reciting the much revered 'Namokar mantra' using rudraksha beads (seeds used for prayers by Hindus). She found peace in her quiet prayers at home without the grand puja ceremonies or tiring rituals held by others at temples. She would then break her fast of up to 14 hours (from sunset to late morning of the following day) with a glass of milk, some nuts, and an occasional banana.
This modest breakfast would take her up to lunch which usually comprised of lentils, vegetables, roti (Indian puffed-up bread), and rice, staple lunch served in most homes across North India. She independently cooked lunch till quite late in her old age - responsible for feeding Babaji and two hungry kids (me and my brother of course!). The food that she prepared was special without being complicated! Cooked with passion and belief in age-old practices with utmost care on hygiene and discretion, lunch-time kitchen was a fortress which we could trespass only with her explicit permission. Touching anything was a misdemeanor and entering with our shoes unthinkable. I used to be so fascinated (still am) with her use of 'palla' (loose end of saree) to strain hot steamy rice or to hold a hot roti while applying ghee (clarified butter). And those fluffy rotis - round, light and puffed up like hot air balloons, sheer bliss! The only way lunch would be served was hot and fresh which meant that Babaji and us kids had to eat first. Once satiated upon seeing us well-fed, she would sit on a rickety old wooden stool by the hob and eat with her fingers.
Post-lunch it would be time for a quick nap, followed by tea and Parle-G (our 'go to' biscuits) at about 4.30pm. Babaji would go-off to the park with his post-retirement buddy Mr. Gujral (or Gujral 'saab' as he was commonly known) and Amma would chit-chat with us and anyone else who cared to listen. After then she would have a modest meal comprising of homemade flatbreads and spicy yogurt or some such quick fix before sunset and settle for evening prayers.
This was a typical day for Amma which remained unchanged over decades except for when it became a necessity to adapt due to extreme old age. Her stable presence and unwavering routine provided the foundations for my overall emotional well-being, so important for ones like me living away from their native lands.
Following this sneak peek and introduction to Amma, I will explore her way of life in more detail to discover ideas that could inspire me and others to build a more sustainable and satisfying lifestyle.
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