A Role Model, just too many

When Blogadda in association with Gillette asked me about my role model, I went searching for answers and apparently still searching for one.

Who is my role model? The one who gave me birth or the one who fought for my right to be in the world? Or is the one who gave me a new lease of life when a fatal accident told me- You are dead. Or the one who helped me combat Ostracism without mentioning it or the one who ostracized me?

Well all of them. Including the ones who do not even know my name and still inspire me in many ways. I have hundreds of role models and I find one every day. You must be wondering how? Wel,l I strongly believe that none of us is perfect but the realization of our imperfection and our continuous effort to fix it up. Embracing our challenges and limitations and yet emerging as winners using what does not still stop us, is indeed role-modelling to me.

Still, few people inspired me long enough, in perpetuity, to add a lot of strength to my otherwise fumbled life, stumbled life. One of them was- Chand Mama, my maternal uncle.

Chand Mama, yes that is what I used to call him. In our folk tales, often children referred to the moon as "Chanda mama" but in my life, I referred to my mama as "Chand mama". I do not know how this name emerged in my life and stayed there. But it stayed there forever even when I turned 30 years old.

I was barely 1 and a half years old when my mother had to leave me at my maternal grandparent's house. She was pregnant with my younger brother and was bound to leave me in the custody of my grandparents for my upkeep and well-being. Strange isn't it? It was dark, dark night without electricity when she left me and it was bright, sun dawn when I met my mama, who just returned back from his work trip the same morning.

Family legend is - that when my uncle saw me playing near the water tap on the porch, he inquired about me and knowing about me, he moved forward, took me into his lap and declared to the world- that from today onwards she is my daughter and he is my double mom- "ma-ma".. a duty that he always played, even when my mom was around.

You must be thinking that it is indeed a tale of love and support, but what is so much about the "role model" of it in this? Well during my growing years, my Chand mama was my friend, philosopher, and guide. He went through a painful divorce but never let the heat of it come on me. His behaviour towards me was always nurturing, owning and cordial. He taught me many things among which some were-

1) The importance of following my dreams

2) The art of love, unconditional love with one and all

3) Treating everyone equally and being empathetic towards the less fortunate ones.

4) He helped me recuperate when I met with my accident. He would encourage me to do things that I wish to do and have an aptitude to do rather than falling prey to pressure and what society will say.

5) Tenacity of results

6) Valuing everything in life alike. Like pain, like happiness.

7) The art of understanding things and still notbecominge judgmental
8) Enjoying good humour andlookingk beyond what is obvious

And much more. Thinking about him still brings tears itomy eyes. He told me one important lesson I can go out and spread my wings and attempt my flights. However, there will always be a nest, a tree in his form right out there who will not stop me but motivate, inspire and always be available even when the world has left me. Such assurance told me that I am someone who can do something and need not fear failure.

I lost Mama to mortality a couple of years back. When I lost my leg, an artificial foot supported me. However I do wonder, what will support me, my inquisitiveness, that little child in me and my endless pursuit since I have lost him. 

Life Sciences with Mama- A new Approach to life
Mama taught me the power of positive confrontation and sacrificing our own lives to bring cheer to others. He never used a "carrot or stick" approach on me but he used "a tree and nest" approach.

He also taught me the relationship between thunder and sea and why should I not be afraid of letting my "boat in the river" but be more careful while "sailing" it. He would often say-

Girte hai ghud-sawar hi, maidan e jung mein

woh khaak gire jo apne ghootno ke bal chala karte hai?

[the one who rides with winds is bound to fall on the battlefield. What is the fall of a man who walks on their knees].

Mama rest in my prayers. I could not meet him before his death and somehow could not make it to his last rituals. However, I strongly felt his presence the whole time till a couple of months. His spirit silently whispered in my ears and said- "Cry as much as you want to. But be true to your life as true you are to your grief. Ensure that once you stop crying, you will wipe the tears, wash your face, stand back on your feet and start walking again on the path of your life". 

Chand Mama, you were one of my first role models and you continue to be. You are alive in my heart, dreams and all those endless songs that we sang during playing endless, never tiring Antakshris, while on the station or during the journey. Love you!

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I am writing about #MyRoleModel as a part of the activity by Gillette India in association with BlogAdda.com.
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This is a true narrative, written straight from my heart. I was not keen on writing this as part of a contest but when the talks of role models poured in, I could not contain myself or stop thinking about him.