Boromamima

Boromamima

It took me a year, to gather myself and write about a very dear friend - my Boromamima (my aunt, maternal uncle’s wife). How over the years affection metamorphosed into a blooming friendship and her sudden demise left a deep crevasse that I can never overcome. Phone calls stretched from minutes to hours and encompassed all sorts of topics under the sun. A retd IAS officer, her humble demeanour made her loved by many. For the past two decades, I have been crisscrossing the country and she paid me a visit where ever I went. I would rattle out about various stuff on phone, she exactly knew where to advise, at which point to intervene, and exactly when to give a patient hearing. When chips were down I would cling onto her, she was my buttress against despair, my anchor.

Never forgot to wish on birthdays , anniversaries, or during important events. Both my mama and maamima would courier new dresses before the commencement of Durga Puja. And after my mother’s death, it was a ritual for her. My maamima would fret more over the size and mama over colour, especially buying clothing for my teenage daughter. I had to talk to the floor manager of Pantaloons over phone to assuage their worries. She was always amused by the antics and quirky ideas of my son. If I ever happen to get busy and not call her for a while, an anxious message would pop up, “kiire shob thik ache toh re?” (Is everything fine?)

Then there would be this predictable question around September, for which I would forever wait - “Ebar Durga Pujoye ashbi?” (Will you come during this Durga Puja?).

For the past few years, she became my pillar as I was hers. Maamima was always candid yet balanced with her suggestions and perspective. She came as part of our family in 1985 and grew more treasured as years went by. It was her first death anniversary yesterday, coinciding with the auspicious Mahalaya Tithi. As the festive mood and celebration fill up the air, for me, it’s one less reason to come to my very own city of joy. I lost a very dear friend. A year gone by, and I realized I needed her more than she did.