People

Bebe-Sitting My Mother …
And a Seven-Point Plan For Ageing Gracefully
- Postcards From The Road

DYA SINGH

I am spending two weeks looking after my aged Bebe ji (mother) while my two brothers, S. Gurmukh Singh of UK and former town councillor and engineer S. Baldev Singh Dhaliwal are involved in a family wedding in the US.

Bebe ji is 100 years old, give or take a couple or three. (The subcontinent then did not have birth registrations.)

Precious days.

Our middle brother Baldev Singh and Bhabi ji (his wife) have looked after her for the last ten years, ensuring that all her needs are met. Older brother Bai Gurmukh Singh takes turns in coming to Adelaide, Australia, to give relief to Baldev so that he and Bhabi ji can have a break. It is now my turn, albeit for about two and a half weeks in between gigs.

Baldev does it full time as part of his love and devotion. I am merely doing a 'locum' and it has turned out to be a profound spiritual experience.

This lovely lady, our dear mother, with all her strengths, is now in the twilight of her life. There are lessons for me to learn as I, like all of us, approach that inevitable Last Stop of our lives.

Still fiercely independent, she bathes herself and also insists in washing her own clothes by hand. No machines for her. She allows her food and drink to be given to her. Sadly, like in a great many households, the noohaan (daughters-in-law) are never ever good enough! And every introduction of an old age aid is accepted only grudgingly - the walking stick, the walking frame, hearing aid, indoor exercise machine, etc.

I am the youngest, so I do get away with a few things. I am in my brother's house, so she wants to ensure that the house is clean and the kitchen is spic and span. 'Tera bai ki kahu, ke chhotay nay ghar di dekh bhaal naheen keeti!' (What will your older brother say - that the youngest did not keep the house clean!)

Vacuuming must be done and the washing, especially of towels, etc. I have started hiding the dirty laundry! The kitchen must be spic and span with all utensils put away.

Our dear mother was responsible for getting us 'out' of India - to the former Malaya. So that we could have a future. There was no future in the 'pind' (village). She is certain that older brother Bai ji Gurmukh would probably have  killed or got killed before he was 20 … because of his temper. 'Tere peo de pind roj khoon honday sun. Tere bai ne jaan khoon karna si jaan marna si, jaan daku ban jana si. Eh Dhaliwal bahut burreu hun!' (Your father's village had daily killings. Your older brother would either have killed a few or be killed, or become a bandit! These 'Dhaliwals' are bad!)

She remembers nights with my two brothers as kids, huddled under her wings in a corner of the house with a Sri-Sahib (full-size kirpan) on her lap and a smaller kirpan by her side, as 'daakus' (bandits) galloped this way and that outside, pursued by the police. (I thought that only happened in Hindi and Punjabi movies!)

'Tera peo taan baahar kirtan karan chalea janda si. Main tere bharaavan nu saambh di si.' (Your father used to be out doing kirtan somewhere. I had to fend for your brothers.)

There was the ever present danger on their lives because my father was also the Lambardar (village headman) and the position those days was hereditary! Hence, a potential target.

This is the gist of the stories that I am hearing from her - all very absorbing, with the inevitable twist at the end - 'Zindagi jehrrhi dekheni si dekh laeyi, hun tan jaan di teari hai. Zamana badal gaya.' (Whatever life brought my way, I coped with it. Now it is time to move on.) She was referring to the dangers they and Bapu ji (father) had faced, and then the long journey by train, ship and trucks, to their destination, Raub in old Malaya where I was born.

It is just the two of us in this beautiful hilltop abode of Baldev‘s, on two acres, with plenty of Australian bushland around with the occasional kangaroo and koalas, galas, cockatoos, parakeets, wild ducks and cheeky crows. In the distance one can see the South Australian coastline with the coastal resorts which light up at night. The air is clean and crisp (it’s winter here down under).

But she yearns for her village, especially our house in Ludhiana with all its smells, bad roads, stifling crowds, smog, choking smoke and cramp conditions, where all friends and village folk used to visit when they came to town. Paradise is where the heart is - even if not a beautiful location!

Observing my Bebe ji over the last ten years, Baldev has penned the following thoughts which I found in the form of notes lying around in the house. Some with a bit of exasperation, I think! They’re worth noting ...

ACTION PLAN FOR AGEING

1   Accept inevitability of oncoming old age gracefully and ungrudgingly!

2   Expect growing physical and mental limitations with age. Expect them in good time, but not before time!

3   Accept help graciously and with appreciation, not grudgingly.

4   Be humble and thankful for Waheguru's bounties, in all sincerity and from the heart.

5   Appreciate what you have when you have it. Do not regret what you did not have, or when you lose it.

6   Learn to let go in good time as something that was not yours anyway, before you are driven to do so.

7   Think and plan ahead, if you can.

There is a reason why we look after our old folks and not send them to old age homes. One, of course, is that it is our dharam (duty). But I think more important than that is for our own lessons of old age. When they move on, we are going to step up to the plate.

Bebe ji gets up at about 6 am. She expects half a cup of light 'cha', unsugared, and occasionally with a slice of adrak (fresh ginger). Then about a half hour later, she shuffles up to her seat and the morning Nitnem comes on. (Yes, she listens to our rendition).

A hot cup of fresh 'cha', slightly stronger, with a slice of fruit bread and her tablets - four of them. Then Raagi Surjan Singh's classic Asa di Vaar. (I asked her why she did not listen to our rendition. "Teri do ghanteyaan di atay main tere chhainay-shanaknay naheen sun-nay! Main sirf saaf paatth sun-nae!"(Yours is two hours long and I do not like the noise-makers you use! I want simple singing!)

I dare not ask her why she likes our Nitnem which is mostly sung to a western beat and very rhythmic!)

Then she takes a break before listening to paatth of Sukhmani with a bowl of oats with another cup of hot cha. Then normally about four rounds around the house with her walking stick. She comes back with a list of things she wants me to move or do around the house!

She then retires to her room till lunch. Which is light - one roti or two slices of multigrain bread with some light daal and a little salad. She chats with me for about an hour and then goes for her afternoon nap. Another cup of 'cha' at 5 pm. A bowl of soup at 6 pm. and again a light dinner at about 8 am.

Her memory is quite amazing but she likes to take on the problems of near and dear ones. She mulls over them and wishes she could do something about them even after repeated reminders that their problems are no more hers. But I guess that is the lot of a woman who has seen hard times and does not wish them upon anyone.

She has difficulty in understanding couples splitting for frivolous reasons and children living in two homes. And she dislikes the modern fashion sense, loss of modesty and decaying moral values.

But when she switches to the grand Maharajah Ranjit Singh's rule or the glory of the Guru Sahibs, her eyes light up and she tells the saakhis with relish but always unfortunately with a sad note.

'Hun saaday aaguaan nu kee ho gayaa. Baadal vargay te saaday jathedar be-imaan bun gaye. Kaljug de jaal vich phas gaye. Be-imaan, thug, jhootth, bikay hoe. Ehna nu Rab nay maaf naheen karna!' (What has happened to our leaders today? Those like the Badals (current rulers of Punjab) have sold us out and the jathedars are corrupt. They have succumbed to the Dark Age. They will not be forgiven by God!)

At times she surprises with her knowledge of gurbani and her renditions of shabads and intepretations.

My Bebe ji is the true image of the Sikh women of old. The Mata Bhaag Kaurs, the Mata Gujris, the Mata Sahib Kaurs of yore. Immersed in gurbani, yet fully active - the true Sant-Sipahis as our Gurus advocated. A shining example for future generations - if future generations will ever understand.

Oops! The Asa di Vaar is over, I better start preparing her brunch. She wants an omelette with a buttered slice of bread and a fresh cup of tea today ... and get ready to put on the Sukhmani Sahib!



September 9, 2015
 

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