My Aama (mother) was one of the 12 children born from my grandmother. Three of the 12 couldn’t survive even for a year. Nine (3 daughters and 6 sons) of them are living and enjoying together. My grandmother was 9 years old when she was married to a 35-years-old man, my grandfather.
The story of my aama’s birth starts from my grandmother who was pregnant at the age of 15 years. She was pregnant with my “aama” inside her and was finally ready to give birth. After hours of labour pain, my grandmother laid unconscious on the floor. My grandmother’s mom heard about this who was miles far away. She then rushed to her daughter’s home to see her daughter. It took her one whole day walking up-hills and downhills to reach the village. Not only the village, but the whole district had no access to any vehicle and not even any roads for vehicles. The journey to reach to her sick little daughter might have been longest and the farthest of all than ever. All that she carried was a hope to see her daughter alive. Her son (my grandmother’s own brother) who had come along with her to see her sister exclaimed with pain as he saw her lying unconsciously on the floor for 3 days, “Mom, my sister’s going to die and I can’t see her dying”.
Grandmother’s 35-years-old man, my grandfather, was a very caring husband. He himself was a traditional healer having great knowledge of Ayurveda and medicinal herbs but had called traditional birth attendants as soon as he could so that he could see her wife, again. Those traditional birth attendants were the only health workers available and were reached only by few families in the village who care their girls and women. But, in case of my grandmother, the attendants tried hard to draw her consciousness back but there was very less hope. Grandfather also gathered all the medicinal herbs to his utmost knowledge and tried to heal her.
My grandmother, recalls, “your aama was born on the 4th day of my labour pain but I didn’t know how it happened. This is what I heard from the birth attendants later after I regained my consciousness only on the 6th day since my pain started. All that I can remember is, I had a too bad stomach ache. I don’t remember thereafter.” While sharing this, she startled with her teary eyes and smiled trying to hide her lost tooth. She thinks whatever happened during that time was a miracle and that she and her first baby (my mother) survived miraculously.
She then recalled what happened after she gained her consciousness, “I suddenly heard someone calling me, sister-sister-sister. She was my cousin rubbing my body. I also saw my mother sitting beside me. Two birth attendants were rubbing my body and my baby was lying just beside me”, said my grandmother. And there she was, my “aama” who was born from a 15 years old mother who had undergone so much of pain. For 4-5 days, someone else breastfed the newborn baby and her mother cared the baby until the baby was of 11 days. Surprisingly, just after that, grandmother started working in fields, the regular trends in village at that time.
My aama who is now in her early 70’s is very lucky to still have her 86-years old mother being together in their old ages. They live in nearby houses. My super aama visits my aama often, almost once in every 2-3 days and so does my “aama” to her. People call them sisters looking at their face and their dressing pattern. Both of them sometimes recall such life stories, laugh and cry together remembering the moments. My “aama” was the first daughter born from her teenage mother. She is the eldest of two little sisters and six little brothers born thereafter. For any familial occasion, only a gathering of these sisters and brothers along with their families makes a big jumbo get-together for us.