TRIBUTE TO MRS. MASTER (MUMMY)
Dedicated to Gaurang and Haren, her two sons and her daughter-in-law, Gita
I had planned to write this tribute on the 100th anniversary of Mrs. Master’s birth (always Mummy to me) but was told by her two sons I was two years too late. Nevertheless, better late than never.
I met Mummy for the first time in 1974 when she visited with your father and my parents when we lived in Woodside, a small two bedroom apartment. Both, Haren and I gave up our bedrooms for our parents while we slept on the floor in the living room. That’s the closest Haren and I came to sharing the same bed. Both sets of parents got along wildly, impossible not to, given Mummy’s exuberance. Our fathers got along well too as they were both in St Xavier’s college at the same time with lots to reminisce about.
We taught them how to use the subway on their own allowing a measure of freedom which would otherwise be impossible. I remember Mummy and Papa coming home late one evening panting. “What happened?” I enquired. Apparently they got off on the Northern Boulevard stop instead of Queens Boulevard. Not recognizing the place Mummy asked a passerby for directions. She kept on asking for directions to Queens Belvedere. Having never heard of Queens Belvedere, the stranger shook his head apologetically. Then suddenly it struck him. “Oh! You mean Queens Boulevard.” “Yes, “ replied Mummy, “Boulevard, Belvedere, same thing.” Receiving directions they made it back home thoroughly exhausted. I sat them down and offered them some Remy Martin (Ronnie Martin to Mummy). A hot cup of tea was preferred. I swear to you ever since, I cannot help but affectionately referring to Queens Blvd as Belvedere and Remy Martin as Ronnie Martin, such was the power of her personality. By the way when I did visit her in Walkeshwar, she never failed to bring out the Bottle of Ronnie Martin to entertain me. She well knew it was preferred to tea.
She was extremely fond of Leonie and me, and that affection was reciprocated. We never failed to visit her every time we visited India. I remember on our first visit there was never enough she could do, including coming down to the bus stop to send us off. I swear when the BEST bus arrived she actually jumped in the middle of the road to make sure the bus stopped. Next she entered the bus and firmly instructed the driver where to drop us off.
Mummy was extremely generous and socially conscious. She had figuratively adopted two young girls from Gujarat. They were brought to her home in Walkeshwar to take care of the family’s needs. Sound like a maid’s work? No! In exchange for their help in the home they got an education in school, something, well nigh impossible, given the family they came from. I believe one of them got married. The other one, Raksha, stayed with Mummy until she passed away. I know very few people who would do this. My mother was one of them.
Mummy loved her daughter-in-law Gita and unabashedly stated that Gita deserved a gold medal for being able to live with her son, Haren. Here is a story that explains why.
Haren came home one evening after work and starts complaining to Gita about one thing after another. Mummy tells Haren: “ Gita has been working all day taking special care of your father and mother. Sit down, have a cup of tea and relax.” As Haren leaves to change his clothes, she tells Gita to make him a hot cup of tea which she does. Haren returns but his criticisms do not end. Gita then tells Mummy that Haren was having a difficult time at work with his new job, so a little understanding is called for.
Yes, Gita does deserve that Gold medal for her love and understanding of his situation. She reminded Mummy that she had lived with her son for more than twenty years and was more than aware of his other wonderful qualities which we all are very much aware of. Who among us doesn’t have a bad day and takes it out on the ones we love.
Here is another memory of Mummy when they stayed with my parents in a two room apartment in Woodside. Mummy must have been in an affectionate mood when planting a gentle kiss on Papa’s cheek. He was startled by it and said in Gujarati (I surmised) “What was that for?” It is simply not in our culture to show emotion, especially romantic ones, in public. That episode reminded me of a wonderful exchange between Tevye and Golde in “Fiddler on the Roof.” It is named; “Do you love me.”It is set to music which I cannot replicate. Here is an edited version. The entire clip is included at the end of this tribute with the roles reversed.
Tevye to Golde: “Do you love me?” No response from Golde.
Tevye again: “Do you love me?” No response again
After several pleas of do you love me, Tevye in exasperation pleads
“Golde, for the last time I am asking you, do you love me?”
Golde. finally relents: “For twenty five years I have made your bed, washed your clothes, cooked your food, milked your cows, cared for your children. If that is not love, what is”
On hearing Golde say that, Tevye is ecstatic: “THEN YOU DO LOVE ME” and the scene ends with Tevye planting a kiss on Golde’s cheek à la Mummy and Papa.
On the matter of a public showing love and affection, I am proud (embarassed?) to state that Leonie and I broke every rule in the book over expressing our romantic sentiments. On this point I remember Jane Austen writing in Pride and Prejudice: “Nothing is more tiresome than watching young lovers making love to each other in public.” Many years later, I must admit that I agree with Miss Austen.
The last time I visited Mummy was on my own as Leonie was in the US. A banquet was prepared as usual. I remember Papa was not there as he passed away earlier. I commented on a beautiful brass ceiling lamp in her living room. “Take it” she said, insisting that I do. I was embarrassed and said that Haren or Gaurang may like it. That did not faze Mummy. I was like her third child. She asked Raksha to bring a ladder and had it removed. I brought it to my home and, ever since, it hangs today as a shining memory of the light she brought into my life and so many others.
She truly was a great lady.
Will always remember her with deep love and affection
Mark