People

Back to My Roots

AAROHI P. SINGH

I am the product of a mixed marriage. My father is a Maharashtrian and my mother, a Sikh. So I have two halves of me, that are always warring with each other to come out.

When I am in Pune or Indore, you won’t mistake me for anything but a Marathi mulgi (girl). Yes, even though I don’t speak Marathi. Psst! I do understand it though.

But in Punjab, I am truly home.

I have spent most of my formative years in my naanka's -- my maternal grandparents’ place in Chandigarh, with frequent trips to Patiala. And I do speak some Punjabi, and can understand it quite well.

His post is only about my mum’s side of the family.

I came home to Chandigarh for my grandparents barsi (ceremony to mark the first death anniversary). Yes, I lost both my naana (maternal grandfather) and naani (maternal grandmother) in this last year.

I am who I am, in very large part, due to them. I spent two years with them, from about age 8 to 10, while my parents were abroad. After the impact they had on me, it only seemed fair to take this time to relearn my roots, to trace my family, as it lies scattered across time and distance.

On 22 May, 2012, I set course for Patiala from Chandigarh after breakfast, armed with some water, snacks and really good company. We traversed the lanes and by-lanes of Patiala’s Adalat Bazaar in search of bargains, colour and form that would inspire me in my journey of creativity. I saw again the simple craftsmanship that creates the many shades of Phulkari, handwoven and embroidered to perfection. I drooled over, and bought juttis in multiple colours and finishes.

I couldn’t resist jewellery that was made in brass or copper but finished in gold. It looked beautiful and very traditional. It brought my Punjabi kurri (girl)side to the fore. All of this was experience, that I know will at some point, find itself reflected in my collections. And all of the above was hand made.

Priceless, were the many relatives I met from my grandparents side. Yes, I traced my family tree. My maternal grandmother was the eldest of seven siblings, and my grandfather, the older of two brothers. Now, add the children of the said siblings, and their children to the mix, and we are talking a really complicated tree.

I have aunts who are closer in age to me, give or take a year or so. That it just seems easier to refer to them as my cousins. Their kids now, are treated as cousins to me. In the same way, some of my ‘aunts/maasi’s are actually my cousin grandmums! Like my grandmother’s youngest sister, is actually younger then my mother! 

Yes, I know it’s complicated.

Suffice it to say, I met them all. At least the ones that live in Patiala. I found old pictures of my grandparents and their extended families. I learned that my maternal great-grandfather was a Second Lieutenant in the British Army in the First World War. 

And his main gripe was that he never got to see the war and fight. Although he travelled the world, each time they landed at a place, a cease-fire would be declared. So they would re-embark onto their ship and move on :-) I think he was one lucky guy - for everyone‘s sake!

By the way, did I mention I come from a family of service personal? My naana (grand dad) was, first, in the British Army and then in the Indian army. He retired as a Brigadier. Naana ji changed the course of many lives by helping people cross the border to safety during the Partition of Punjab in 1947. And all this while leaving his own wife and his one year old daughter (my mum) hidden under the station master’s desk at the Amritsar railway station.

My dad retired a few years ago as an Air Cmde.(RV Phadke), and was a fighter pilot in the Indian Air Force (IAF). My mother (Dr. Pushapjeet Kaur), was a a doctor in the IAF and my brother, still serves as a IAF fighter pilot. 

My cousin sister, Flt. Lt. Harita Kaur, was the first woman pilot to fly solo in the IAF. And my many aunts and cousins are married into the service. Same goes for the male counterparts in my family. Those from my mother’s side that are not in the armed forces, are farmers.

So ‘Son-‘, or in this case, ‘Daughter-of-the-soil’ certainly holds true value for me :-)

I found that in this family, although we don’t speak the same language and we don’t live in the same place or even style, the one thing that binds us all together, is as strong today as it was over a decade ago when I last met them. Love.


[Courtesy: Art by Aarohi. Edited for sikhchic.com]
August 8, 2013
 

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