Kakakka

“Perhaps it is our imperfections that make us so perfect for one another!” ― Douglas McGrath

Kakakka has been my father in law’s adored sister and is a few years older than him. Being close born siblings, their bonding knew no bounds. My father in law wanted approval from his sister for every minute occurrence that was significant in his family. My first encounter with Kakakka was soon after I met my husband. She was an element of suspense and envy for me as my husband had the ability to drag her name in every conversation of ours with great reverence that made me wonder about her immense strength of multi-tasking. My admiration for her multiplied with the growing years.  She was a known personality in my father’s family too. Her maiden name Kalavathi changed to Mrs Kalavathi N Pai after her marriage, but for her nephews and nieces, she was Akka specifically Kakakka.

My aunts and other relatives waited eagerly to see her a day before my engagement. She was accompanied by my husband and his cousin sister. Indeed, she caught everyone’s curiosity with her infectious smile, an upright confident posture and a well-maintained figure. She spoke Malayam, Konkani and English with ease. She then turned out to be a part of our life as we lived in Mumbai just as she did.

Over the years I saw her grow closer as a friend as we expanded into a family. She travelled the long distance in Mumbai to see me when I was unwell to bounce me back to health. She is lovingly called Akka by our children too as they find her youthful in her thoughts. She has always been keen to help people. Her home has been an abode for a large number of relatives. She neither complained about the guests they had nor the work she had to do. The food cooked by her was the best and one never found fault with it as every minute detail was looked into well. She belonged to Alleppey where my father’s huge family had settled According to my father, we as Konkanis were the natives of Goa and Kashmir. When the Portuguese invaded Goa our great grandparents moved to Karwar, Mangalore and Kerala. In Kerala, we find a few Konkani communities. A Konkani from Kerala normally wishes to be married off into a family in Kerala. Since there are a few families the whereabouts of everyone is known to the other.

We visited Kakakka in Matunga almost every week in the initial years of our marriage. The travel on the local train sapped my energy, but she would cook the best food to make us feel better. We used to meet her husband,  Mr Namdev Pai whom we used to call Bhavaji. He was suffering and had been operated for rectal cancer. He was meticulous and followed a timely routine. She would hustle and bustle but her eyes were forever fixed on the clock. He had his lunch at 1.15 pm so her target would be to keep the food ready a minute ahead and serve him exactly at 1.15pm. His tea time, dinner time and every other schedule were fixed, but she had a constant smile. He would not be happy if there was a delay in his schedule, but she tried to keep up the time every day to please him. One of the days he fell very ill, this time his recovery was slow and then we found him constantly lying in the bed.  He was ill for many weeks, yet she maintained the happy chatter. She told us that he was sinking as a matter of fact. I looked at her face, she had taken it as a turn in life just as others. She never had the time to fall ill, she kept herself active. She had been a teacher in a local school named S.I.E.S school near Matunga in Mumbai. Her students loved her and thronged around her to share their life with her. I have seen them appreciate her classes in a get together shared as a video on YouTube.

A few weeks later Bhavaji died peacefully. Akka unstated his absence but felt that he had suffered sufficiently. She tried to pacify people who had come to calm and console her. On the twelfth day, she was up in a bid to help the ceremony go on well. She was dressed in silk and adorned a straight long bindi instead of her usual large red one. Life went on, Akka was back to her usual self. She would at times say that she missed her large red bindi. She has been a constant support to all of us. She was the first to calm down my husband when he came to know about his father's terminal illness. My father in law kept in touch as long as he lived since she was his sister who had a world of understanding.  The secret of her liveliness helped her connect with the old, the young and adults owing to her wonderful communication. She has words of strength and focuses for our children and a few worldly words for all of us to benefit.

Akka’s marriage was a period of long bonding as she had been married off at the vulnerable age of eighteen. She had left the bounteous nature in Kerala to join her husband in the concrete jungles of Mumbai. Her journey began at a tender age when she pursued her studies with the job as a teacher. She learnt Marathi, polished her Konkani to match the greater population of Konkanis who spoke Mangalorean Konkani. She completed a teacher training course and kept working on her English. She gained the knowledge of Marathi and learned to adapt to the hardships of living in a city like Mumbai. Her growing years marked the maturity with which she handled life. She has sons and grandchildren, to whom she has been more than a friend in understanding them at their level. These days she finds it difficult to match her health to the changing weather yet we look at her as an epitome of strength like the Mount Everest and have high esteem for her innate capabilities and conviction to match the contemporary world.

“It is not the strongest or the most intelligent who will survive but those who can best manage change.” ― Leon C. Megginson

Dedicated to Mrs Kalavathi N Pai