"Have you taken your water bottle, handkerchief, keys?"
"Yes. Bye, bye!"
"Accha, bye! Go safely and return safely."
That was always the way we parted with my mother-in-law. She cared so much about each of her children that she remembered all the minor details of our needs.
It is now more than one year since she left for heavenly abode. The only thing that I have in this apartment to remind us of her is a sturdy copper water pot that once belonged to her.
Every time I scrub it, I tenderly run my fingers against her name that is engraved on it along with the date. It says - Teresa Lemos 12-04-1994.
A few weeks ago, the fresh water supply to the building was suddenly cut. There was some urgent electrical maintenance work in progress and the overhead water tank had run dry.
Usually, I stock bottled water for such emergencies. But with the supplies coming in erratically due to the pandemic, this time I had just one bottle left.
Oh well, we were in a real fix.
Around noontime, when pangs of hunger started stirring, I went into the kitchen hopelessly wondering how to cook without any water. I stuck my head into the freezer and found some sambar. Now that was a saving grace.
But how to cook rice to go along with it?
It was then that the burnished copper pot of freshwater beckoned. It was full to the brim! Usually I fill it up around noontime but by some divine intervention, this time I had filled it up the night before.
With a huge sigh of relief, I quickly rinsed the rice and set it to boil.
Our Mummy had come to the rescue. Like always, she had looked into the finer details of our living and provided the necessary.
A mother's love continues to live on, doesn't it?
