The 'Mausi' for Our Children

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Some people retire from our lives with a remarkable smear. They themselves can’t even judge the degree of influence they had actually left behind them. And we just remember them as the sweet memory of yesteryears.

One such person was the ‘mausi’. She was appointed by us few years ago by my mother to take care of the two terribly naughty children of my brother. My sister-in-law was left with no energy at the end of the day after thriving the long day with her kids and so hiring a babysitter seemed to be the best option.

She was a short, fair lady always in the traditional attire, hired with quite a handsome salary by my mother. Her smiling face conceived a friendly nature, only inviting the thoughts inside our mind of being thrown out mischievously, by our two little monsters soon. This had been the same story being repeated with all the maids before her.

But she was different. Her charming nature could allure the minds of the little ones in a very deceptive manner that they would run after her all the time when not in school. Deceptive because we had never witnessed such degree of affection from our children for any of her predecessors. They would call her ‘mausi’, the mother’s aunt. Surprisingly, she was popularly known as ‘mausi’ and we all called it as her ‘daak’ name instead of Jashoda.

When the children were at school, she would take care of the house. And she, too considered us as the family. While coming to her daily work, she would bring all sorts of vegetables, herbs, sometimes small fishes for lunch. She would find unique flowers on the way to our home and so would pluck the baby plants to be sown in our garden. Slowly she became the heart of our family. All would wait for her arrival in the morning for the chores to be taken care of. She would treat herself as the head of the working junta- domestic help, of our family and instruct them to perform their allotted duties diligently. We would live carefree after delivering our responsibilities on her.

The afternoons would be a busy schedule for her, as the children after returning from school would spend the remaining day with her until she would go back home. The goodbyes were dramatized every day, ‘bye mausi... bye mausi... come back tomorrow.’ And she would keep on replying back to the as many good byes being sent to her. The typical Bollywood scenario religiously redone every day.

Her love for the children and our family was so clearly evident that it still has an impact on our minds. Later, her substitutes could never convince our minds in such a way to reap the seeds of trust. There were many but she was the one full of life, love and care. And we still treasure the gone days and our dearest ‘mausi’.

 

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