It is now six months since she left us after a 13
year battle with illness — a woman who influenced
thousands and yet, was a private person; a person who
changed the lives of many children and the poor but
shied away from recognition and applause. She would be
embarrassed by my public tribute, but I overcame the
fear of her rebuke as I thought of writing these lines,
so that others could also learn to appreciate their own
mothers.
She taught me that society was bigger than self, and
arrogance and pride went before a fall; that material
wealth was fleeting, and contentment lay in sharing.
Even though she was a private person she gave up her
privacy, and our home became a shelter for those in need
of protection and care. Everyone was welcome regardless
of their status in life and was treated with dignity and
equality shattering the deep divisions of language,
ethnicity, caste, creed and class.
Many ‘unwanted’ babies and abused women travelled
through our home, sometimes staying for weeks and at
other times, a few years. One such baby became her
precious daughter and our beloved sister. Each story was
terrifying and unique often involving the abuse of women
by men. She sheltered these women throwing caution to
the winds, risking the reputation of husband and sons.
She taught us that ‘right’ work was more important than
‘good’ work, and had to be undertaken whatever the cost.
The poor and the weak were at the heart of her
mission in life. It was not just compassion that drove
her to provide a meal for 1500 children each day, but an
inward belief that the poor had a right to demand from
others who had plenty. She strove to educate those who
could not afford it — always attempting to move every
family one step higher, while driving home the point
that education does not create moral beings, but that a
transformation of heart was the beginning of an ethical
life.
As her mission grew, it had to be institutionalised
to cater to many. But she never lost sight of the
individual’s need — for food, medicine, shelter,
education, protection or to escape from a destructive
habit — even if it was outside the defined institutional
programme. She strove to demolish the separation between
public life and private living by embedding her mission
into her lifestyle.
The lot of the marginalised, the weak and the poor
stirred her soul making her a natural ally of the
underdog. She was constantly looking for ways to defend
and fight their cause.
One evening at dinner, we were introduced to a lady
who had been released from prison for a couple of days
into my mother’s care. In a well publicised case, the
lady was convicted of murder despite pleading her
innocence. My mother reading the newspaper account
appealed on her behalf, visited her in prison, and gave
her hope until she assumed a new identity and settled
into family life upon being released from a life
sentence.
Though she was born to the majority race, she had a
deep sensitivity to the injustices and aspirations of
the minorities. She believed in the lines of our
national anthem which says "Eke mawakage daru
kalebawina" (we are but the children of one mother)
and dreamed of a united country where all lived with
dignity and were equal before the law. Her death has
cast on us an even heavier responsibility to work
towards this goal in spite of the many detractors.
She was mentally alert to the last and spent her
fading years in talking, advising, counselling, writing
and working on email and computer, never giving up on
life. There are many memories that I recall amongst
which are the late night discussions in which she
advised and sometimes argued her case, always advising
her sons to treat their spouses with equality, love and
dignity.
She sometimes had a word of counsel about the
grandchildren or would often directly speak to them
herself, with remarkable relevance and respect. She gave
us all the gift of being open, communicating from the
heart and instilling in us that people were always more
important than things.
Life is uncertain, death is sure. She always lived in
the context of eternity and death held no terror for
her. She had experienced forgiveness and therefore, was
a forgiving person. I share in her belief that we do not
earn our eternal reward, but life, and eternal life is a
gift given by God to be celebrated throughout. Death is
only a temporary parting. Ammi, I will meet you
soon.
Eran