“Hello, Mom!”

Ruminations from my mother-daughter conversations during this pandemic

A regular routine for me during this pandemic is calling my mom in India every day, sometimes twice a day, and talking to her for over an hour.

These ruminations are from our countless conversations.

Sunita, my mother, for those that don’t know her, is a classic 84-year-old Indian lady. With her signature red dot on the forehead, red bangles, and a strong voice, she is a fountain of interesting news. Our conversations could last for hours were it not for my regimented, by-the-clock lifestyle in the U.S.

I call her every day not from obligation but because I’m acutely aware that one day, not too far in the future, my calls to say “Hello, Mom!” will be answered by deafening silence.

Can you hear me now?

Telecommunication technology is way ahead of the time I first came to the United States in the early 90s. Back then, international calls were pricey at INR 80 per minute, so a once-a-month call was all mom would make to find out if I’m Ok! Did I mention she is frugal? In those days air-mail letters and faxes were still in vogue and my mom used them fashionably.

Thankfully, in this WhatsApp age, mobile calls are FREE (mom loves that) and easy to make, only if the internet connection is good at both ends. Often, the first few call attempts are spent helping her adjust her cell phone volume or checking her Wi-Fi connection. For some older generation parents, like my mom, technology is not their best friend. She is convinced that Airtel and Vodafone (Telecommunication Providers in India) are conspiring to block her calls (yes, only her phone calls) and interrupt her WhatsApp connection. I’ve never won this argument with her.

Life Lessons and Memory Lane Strolls

No conversation with mom is ever dull. Her 8 decades of life experiences are sprinkled in every phone session. From her childhood in pre-partitioned Pakistan to her school and college days in Mumbai, India. She takes me on a memory-lane stroll, recalling her younger years. These are some of our best conversations. I truly cherish them.

Most of her stories are repeats but I enjoy them like reruns of a good movie. I’m a stranger to many of her life events as my younger years were spent away from her in a boarding school. These phone chats, in some ways, are a deep insight into the mother I have barely known.

Besides her life stories, our talks include detailed accounts of her daily routine, house-help issues, family events, and comprehensive analysis of any friend or family member that’s on her mind for that day.

At 84, I applaud her willpower to stay alone. It’s a circumstantial life choice but albeit a sad one for someone who has always been a Social Bee.

In her younger years, mom spent a lot of time meeting and helping far and in between family members and friends. She was always on the run, doing things, sorting out issues, matchmaking, giving financial advice to anyone that needed her help. To me, she was like an ‘Iron Lady’ that disliked sitting in one place and whiling away time. Now, as age mockingly confines her, I wonder where all those friends and family members are when she needs their company?

Old age is merciless and lonely, she laments. While her mind is still razor-sharp, her body has slowed down. For someone who sported a quick Gandhi-style march in her gait, it’s sad to see her barely walking now.

She wishes more people, and family could meet and spend time with her while she is still alive. She often quips, “This is the time I need and miss company. No point in coming later to put flowers over my photo or perform extensive religious ceremonies in the name of social traditions.”

Let that sink in….

My Forever Optimist

Mom’s a prophesier of sorts, an astrology and numerology student for over 40 years. She has read the palms of several of my friends and years later they still reminisce how accurate her predictions have been for their life.

Besides her passion for palmistry, she loves the ‘art-of-making-money’. She has this elder sister's attitude towards it, no matter the type or denomination. Money is a rainy-day asset, banks are for saving, not withdrawals, are a few of her favorite mantras. This attitude has been both a boon and a bane in her life.

They say circumstances reveal and transform a person. This applies to mom. At 16, while still in college, she took over the reins of her family business after my grandfather’s sudden passing from a stroke. She had several younger siblings and a bedridden mother at home. It was a rough start, but she managed her way through the adversities and came out mentally strong and financially independent for the rest of her life.

As the apple never falls far from the tree, I share her passion for business and she often advises me on my entrepreneurial journey. Every time I bemoan the challenges of the business world, she encourages me to hang in there, brighter days are around the corner. Her positive go-getter attitude has kept me going through some of the lowest patches in life.

She tells me, “Everyone falls and fails multiple times in life. The winners just know how to pick up and keep moving on.” Thanks, Mom!

Golden Sunset

As her life moves along its golden sunset phase, she openly shares her experiences and wisdom in a way that only a mother can.

She never feigns perfection and shares both her life’s failures and successes openly. Besides the gift of life, she has given me another invaluable treasure, by introducing me to my Nichiren Daishonin Buddhist practice. As if she instinctively knew that my life needed a pillar of faith to pull me through the dark times. As Buddhists we believe we share a deep karmic bond with our parents, it’s true.

My daily phone calls to mom are a way of sealing the parenting gaps I’ve had with her in my early years. Nature abhors a vacuum and even though the spaces were filled by doting Aunts and Mothers of my best friends, I have always yearned for the mother-daughter bonding.

Now that we live continents apart and I barely see her once in two years, I never take our calls for granted. Every day as she takes her time and slowly inches her way to answer my phone, I let out a sigh of relief and say, “Hello, Mom!”