‘Molu, teach me how to use this Whatsapp no?’ said Amma for the tenth time in the same phone call. It was 11 in the night for her, two hours beyond her bed time, but she was still awake waiting for my phone call. Ever since I moved to the US, this has been the practice. She wouldn’t listen when I told that she can call me when she wakes up in the morning. ‘Because you will be sleeping that time no, Molu?’ she’d say in her ever loving voice.
Finally, I managed to get Binny from the next house to teach Amma how to use Whatsapp. From that day on, religiously one message would make its way to my phone promptly every day. I could tell that it was 5:15 am in India when the message arrived. I could almost see Amma waking up, brushing her teeth, finishing her morning prayers and sending me these messages, sitting on her easy chair by the verandah.
It had been two years since my divorce. The whole episode hadn’t shaken her up, but had hardened my mother. She was as strong as a fortress on the outside, but on the inside, I knew she worried about Aarush and me. Like Amma said, “You can choose courage, or you can choose comfort, but you cannot choose both” and I chose courage in a world that offered comfort for a price; that of my dignity. Thanks to this lady sitting in a quaint neighbourhood in Cochin and her messages every morning, I lead a better life strengthened by love and resolve.
I am writing as a part of the Write Tribe Problogger’s challenge. #WriteBravely #WriteTribeChallenge