When I was younger, I thought the idea of glorifying mothers as supermoms or tyagmurtis was silly. But over the years I have realised that we take for granted everything mothers do for their children. It is time we gave mothers more credit.
During my school days I was an introvert. I did not have too many friends, participate in outdoor activities or even attend my friends’ birthdays — not because of my sexuality, which I was not sure of then, but because of a health problem that kept me indoors mostly.
So I spent a lot of time at home, mostly in the kitchen. My Amma (mother) was always busy catering to a large joint family, and the innumerable guests and visitors who always streamed in and out.
Since I was always around her, Amma would ask me to help her with this or that — cutting vegetables, stirring the sambar or bringing curry leaves from the garden. Without realising it, I learnt cooking just by observing her. That has always stayed with me.
Another quality that I imbibed from her is her patience. She goes about her million jobs patiently. She doesn’t have too many expectations, and she does everything with all the love and humility within her. Her acceptance of karma (fate and destiny) ensures that she doesn’t even think she is doing a great deal. If breakfast is over, she prepares fresh batter and makes dosas for the maidservants; she always gives some food and clothes to the old vegetable vendor who comes every Wednesday.
These are small acts that are routine for Amma, but they mean a lot to those on the receiving end.
In the same way, she perhaps doesn’t give herself much credit for the largeness of her heart in accepting me and my public role as an outspoken activist for LGBT rights. She may not approve of my sexual orientation, but her love for me as her ‘son’ hasn’t changed an iota.
Of course, she wishes that I would marry, have children and build a family, but that has not come in her way of accepting me and my partner. In fact, she bonds well with my partner whenever she comes to Mumbai for her annual stay with us. She never forgets to enquire about him during every phone call. For her, he too is family.
My next film, Evening Shadows is about the relationship between a mother and her gay son and one of its underlying themes is that when we come out of the closet, we push our mothers into the closet because they are unable to confide the secret in anyone. It is not easy, because there are relatives, neighbours and even the old vegetable vendor who keeps asking questions about her son, many even in a jeering and insulting way. My Amma has handled all that with fortitude and a smile.
Where does she get this strength from? Is it from her strong belief in karma or her intrinsic love for me? Or is it because she really is a supermom and a tyagmurti as mothers are said to be? Actually, it doesn’t matter. All reasons, logic and arguments melt away when she speaks to me, smiles at me with the most warm human smile ever, and of course makes her tasty chaklis and kodbales specially for me.
A big salute to Amma on Mothers’ Day. I certainly think every day is Amma Day!
Sridhar Rangayan is a filmmaker who has made films with special focus on LGBT issues. His films, The Pink Mirror and Yours Emotionally, have been considered groundbreaking because of their realistic and sympathetic portrayal of the Indian gay community. He is also the Founder Member and Trustee of The Humsafar Trust, the first gay NGO in India. In 2006, he was awarded the South Asian Achievers Award for his contribution to global mainstream media by Triangle Media Group (TMG), UK.