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To my 26 daughters
Reema Anand
 I didn’t give you birth my girls ,
albeit you were borne out of a massacre, a distortion of history,
when humanity went insane and Indians lost their humanitarianism —
The November 1984 Riots !!!
The enormity of ‘84 was lost on me till fate brought me to you in
December 2005, to your settlement in Tilak Vihar. It was for my book
that I had come, how selfish of me ! I intended to use you like
hundreds other had done before me.
Day after day, the dictaphone didn’t stop, the spools kept whirring
gently and sitting on a broken chair, I kept listening and
absorbing, probing and questioning. And then everything stopped, my
interviews had come to an end. But I couldn’t move !
Puppy, who had lost her father first, lost her mother subsequently,
needed love and financial support ! Mataji despite having lost a
lot, had lot of love to give. She was too old to put up stalls and
sell the masalas and had a diabetic son. She needed help! Harjinder
whined a lot, she wanted employment for her son!
I kept away for a week, thinking the effects would be washed off!
They didn’t ! I went back and called for girls of ‘84 background who
desired to work. Soon the compound was swarming with them. I picked
up 26 of them and they became my daughters !
I knew you and I came from different worlds, so you didn’t trust me
! We could not even connect mentally ! Belonging to the same
religion, yet you disliked the word Sikhism, which had deprived you
of your parents, brothers and a normal childhood ! The only way I
could reach to you was through your souls, which were hurt, bruised
and badly scarred.
Then started the mothering!
It took lot of physical force to hug you, for there was resistance
in the body language. You had to be cajoled and sometimes scolded to
do the daily “path” from Granth Sahib, but you learnt. You learnt
slowly but you learnt! Much of my time would be spent trying to
convince people and institutions as to the cause underlying purchase
of masalas! The destination was very far off but your smiles were
the milestones.
The day I heard you singing and expounding Chaupai Sahib, my joy
knew no limits. That day I was convinced that we were walking
together on the right path! But we had to walk a long way. You knew
absolutely no work culture, and I was determined that you learn
about surviving with dignity. Slowly, steadily pushing you all,
offering prizes as motivation to my growing girls, working with
self-respect was instilled in you. What could a mother ask for more?
Your language disturbed me and I would feign disappointment and
recede into myself. You would respond by holding ears and saying
sorry. The abuses gradually disappeared. Despite heat, rain and
uncomfortable surroundings, there was laughter in the centre.
Learning and disciplining went side by side. On your reaching late,
I would impose a fine and you would sulk. I would explain then
loving and disciplining were two different things. You would accept,
muttering all the time under your breath.
Your hugs became freer, and I started kissing you on the cheeks. You
were shy and would say “bus didi bus”, but I insisted, for I
realised that physical expression of love was important. Although
with the hugs and kisses came lot of lice in my hair, but they could
be treated.
I didn’t realise that becoming a mother and then a nani of 26 grown
up daughters could give me so much love and happiness.
Today I am a proud mother, for my girls have learnt to stand on
their own feet and they understand what working for self-respect is!
They are wary of their exploiters and have created censors, so I
don’t need to protect them! They know I am there when they need me
for their emotional, medical, marital problems or for their kids’
educational needs!
But I miss you my dear daughters, for through you I realised the
purpose of my life!!!
20 June, 2007
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