Last year I was in Mumbai on her funeral. I was surprise to find a lot of people gathered to attend the funeral. It is rightly said, "A character of a man can be judged by the crowd on his funeral." She was an ordinary lady in her seventies, not a celebrity, then what was so stunning about her?

She was the woman who believed in happiness of others. Whoever visited her house never left without a glass of water. She never discriminated against anyone. 
Raised in a conservative family in a small village of Rajasthan, she got married to a doctor and settled in Mumbai. She soon had two children. She learnt all the nuances of city life and learn whatever she could. Soon she gave birth to another two children. Little knowledge they had that of destiny would soon deal a terrible blow to them. The couple’s eldest son, just 13 years old, came to know that he had only one kidney and that too had failed. He would have to go through weekly dialysis.  Soon he had to be frequently hospitalized. During hospitalization his water and food consumption had to be limited to a bare minimum. It was in 1971. Doctors suggested a kidney transplant. It was the first transplant happening in India under the visiting team of American doctors at Vellore. She courageously got ready to donate her kidney, ready to risk her life. She knew there was very little chance of the operation going successful. On the third day after the operation, she lost her son.

Well, her misfortune had not ended there. After the failed operation, and running short of finances, she however regained and collected broken threads of her life only to find another blow of tragedy striking her family. Her son-in-law was diagnosed with cancer. Her three grandchildren were going to be fatherless and her daughter widow just after the birth of her grandson. No sooner her grandson was born, her daughter lost her husband.

She moved on with life till she had a stroke and was paralysed from her right side. She lost her voice and became bedridden. She was imprisoned in her own body, a slave of destiny for 12 long years. Silently sitting, smiling as though obliging the world. Days passed, her condition deteriorated. Even in those days, whoever came to meet her would always be welcomed with a smile in her eyes. Many times her eyes filled with tears, pleading us to give her death as she couldn't speak. She just had one source of emoting – her tears.

I stayed far away from her and she would be extremely happy whenever I visited her. In those visits, we held and squeezed each other's hands tightly to feel the emotions running within us strongly. Strength of mother and daughter. Yeah, she was my mom, in my eyes an incredible woman.