We visited my aunt – my mother's older sister, in Dehradun. I was probably six, my sister, K, next to me was four, and our baby sister, KK, was about two. My aunt had three sons, two older cousins than me, and one about KK's age. My childhood memory of Dehradun is still so vivid -- a small town nestled in the rolling valley, surrounded by high Himalayan Mountains and lush greenery. At night, we could see the glittering lights of Mussoorie up in the mountains. Just outside my aunt's house was a little playground with swing sets. It was so much fun playing with my cousins. I also remember going to a Montessori school there for a few hours, and my aunt would pack snacks of biscuits and petite sandwiches in a lunch box. To this date, I am nostalgic and crave my aunt's home-baked biscuits when I pass through a bakery.
Life was just rolling on beautifully until one night – the whole family was sitting around the dining table on the outside covered patio except for one person, my sister, K.
K was an explorer, always busy doing something, sometimes even what she was not supposed to do. My mother got worried about not finding her at the dinner table. Finally, she entered the patio cum dining area, limping and crying in her mud-soiled clothes. My mother picked her up in her lap. She was burning hot with a very high fever. The rest of our visit to my aunt's place went into different doctors' visits. Sometimes, her fever would run so high that she would go unconscious, mumbling unfathomable words. My father, who was not with us on this trip due to his job, immediately came to see us despite his eye surgery. I remember he had a bandage on his one eye. No doctors or hospitals in this small town could diagnose the real issue with my sister.
We decided to return to Calcutta so that she could get proper treatment. My parents rented an apartment in Calcutta. My paternal grandmother came to stay with us. There was a doctor who came to see my sister regularly. The fever had gone down, but she was frail and couldn't walk. A therapist used to come to give her physical therapy. They diagnosed her with polio. Her whole right side was affected.
My father had to return to work in a small town twenty miles away from Calcutta. I remember he used to come to see us on weekends. Looking back, I imagine how tough those days would have been for my young parents with three small children. My mother and grandmother kept the family running smoothly, so we, the children, never felt neglected. My grandmother was a great storyteller who cracked jokes and made us laugh. At night, when my mother would put me to bed, she sat down next to me, and with her soft hands on my forehead, she would recite Hanuman Chalisa while I drowsed off to sleep. She often told me the stories of Mahabharat, Ramayan, and the Vedas.
My love of Indian mythology developed during my childhood. When Papa would come on weekends, he would tell me the stories of Greek and Roman mythology and read the stories of great classics from children's picture books.
My mother was a spiritual person. I saw her worshipping in our little prayer room every day. One day, a vendor sold gods and goddesses' sculptures made of sugar. They looked just like what my mother had in her prayer room. My grandmother bought a few for me. I was so happy. I used them in making my little prayer area behind a desk where I would disappear every day and pray like my mother. I prayed to all the gods and goddesses to make my sister better. One day, my grandmother noticed a trail of ants going underneath the desk, and she wanted to find out why there were so many ants. Then, she discovered my secret temple with sugared gods and goddesses. She called my mother, and they cleaned the whole area and got rid of ants and my deities. I was heartbroken, but they were touched when they heard my story. I got new deities made from clay and a nice corner in the apartment where I had my little worshipping area.
Notes: I have used initials for my sister’s names
Hanuman Chalisa – a devotional hymn in praise of Lord Hanuman. Lord Hanuman is
known for his knowledge, strength, humbleness, loyalty, and selflessness
Bio:
Dr. Meenakshi Mohan is an internationally published writer, a scholar, art critic, children’s writer, painter, and poet. She has been listed twice in the Who is Who Among American Teachers. She is on the editorial Committee for Inquiry in Education, a peer-reviewed journal published by National Louis University, Chicago, Illinois. She is nominated for January 2021 as an Artist of the Month by DCSAACI (DC South Asian Arts Council, Inc.) She has been featured several times in the local journals in the Maryland area. She is a recipient of The Panorama International Literature Festival Award 2022 for her writing.