Spice of life: Coping with challenges, change as life moves on

Through frugal habits, they survived on one salary and supported the family with the other, at peace with life, content with fulfilling their duties. No bitterness, only a tender wee bit of nostalgia

While teaching The Refugees by KA Abbas to undergraduate students, the similarity with my parents struck an emotional chord. How as toddlers they traversed the arduous terrain. The physical journey from Gujranwala and Multan, respectively, has left an indelible imprint. The wounds of loss have not healed till date for many who suffered the catastrophe. A ubiquitous query still pops up at all Punjabi get-togethers, “Picho kithe de ho (Where are you originally from)?”

Adversity teaches prudence. Since my parents started with nothing, they are abstemious and not spendthrifts. They raised us sisters well, academically equipped and financially self-reliant. (Getty Images)

Many a hardship they bore stoically. They left behind fertile farms, affluent homes and slogged untiringly on barren land relocated in an alien region. Notwithstanding the meagre financial resources, they clung to the fragile string of education. By sheer dint of labour, they earned degrees and secured enviable government positions. That was just a beginning; they simultaneously carried their academic pursuits as well as supported their siblings. Through frugal habits, they survived on one salary and supported the family with the other, at peace with life, content with fulfilling their duties. No bitterness, only a tender wee bit of nostalgia.

Yet another major turbulence they weathered post matrimony in Ambala was the Indo-Pak war. Many a times, they share their anecdotes of blackouts, sirens, air raids and seeking refuge in bunkers. Life moved on amid shelling. St Paul’s Church, a mute testimony, is a must-visit and my children call it the bomb church. The empty shells polished into vases are relics of the era that adorn the mantelpiece even today.

Our Jammu sojourn coincided with the peak-militancy saga of the northern region. We would rush to our roof to see the army flag march as curfew would be imposed. Bustling markets hitherto were deserted and not a soul ventured out. I vividly remember the time spent playing indoor games, sharing our depleting resources with neighbours and partaking of sparse meals. Whenever a relaxation was announced, everyone would rush to grab groceries and vegetables. Life limped on.

Adversity teaches prudence. Since my parents started with nothing, they are abstemious and not spendthrifts. They raised us sisters well, academically equipped and financially self-reliant. The working middle-class has this uncanny inherent trait, as soon as they receive the salary, they disperse it – house help, groceries, milkman, fees, pocket money, investment and savings. As a diligent pair of squirrels, they put aside for the rainy day. Like many of their generation, they subscribe to the belief of ready cash in hand and demonetisation shook them from their complacency. Another life lesson to be learnt was digitalisation. Overcoming initial hiccups, they manoeuvred into the e-era. Slowly but surely, they picked up the nuances of social media, video-calling, Paytm et al.

The pandemic inscribed its presence in the annals of life. They accepted the challenge of surviving within the confines of home, first ones to opt for vaccination and e-marketing, they picked up the threads of life in the post-pandemic era. Well, things are falling in tandem. Dear Life, what is the next lesson?

kalrasuruchi@yahoo.com

The writer is associate professor, Hindu Girls College, Jagadhri