Remembering my father- Sardar Harnam Singh Serna

My father-April 2018

My father Sardar Harnam Singh Serna left us on 14th of July 2018. It had been raining heavily almost all of the previous day, Friday, the 13th  of July and with a distinct sense of foreboding, I just didn't want to go back home- all I wanted to do was stay at the hospital where he had been admitted for the last 4 days. As it happened that night passed and we came back, driving  through pouring rain to meet him on the 14th morning and were with him as he left this world at about 1030 am.  

At  my father's Antim Ardas held on the 18th of July, in my Shraddhanjali to Pop, as we called my father, I was able to put together some top of mind thoughts which I'm sharing in this piece. 

'It was almost exactly 9 months ago that many of you joined us at this venue, Gurudwara Shri Vasant Vihar, to honour the memory of our late mother Sardarni Satinder Kaur Serna but in this very fact lies the irony as well as its beauty. You see, its really hard for anyone who knew both my parents, to separate one from the other-the old saying, “two peas in a pod” is probably the most apt one here.

Pop as we always called him, lost his zest for life after Mummy passed and as many people told me thereafter, he was never really the same.

 My father Sardar Harnam Singh Serna was born into a wealthy business  family in Rawalpindi, now in Pakistan. His father Sardar Balwant Singh was a devout Radhaswami and his mother Sardarni Mainawati was a gentle and loving homemaker who passed away shortly after the birth of my younger Bhuaji, Devinder Luthra. Despite growing up in a loving family where every wish and desire was fulfilled, my father grew up as a highly disciplined boy.Punctual to a fault, highly disciplined, deeply religious, usually top of his class, his zest for outdoor activities was no less evident and he grew up to be the proverbial all rounder.

Sadly, all that was to change during the Partition in Aug 1947 when as a young teenager, he had to flee his home and the only way of life and living that he had known till then. Pop often talked of Kushwant Singh’s famous book Train To Pakistan, which closely mirrored his own life story .Moving from one refugee camp to another, his family (in which his mother’s sister ‘Masiji’) played a key role,  finally reached Bhogal in Delhi where they set up a small home. Some time later, they moved to Jangpura, which became ‘home’  in a very real sense for a few years. Winning scholarships came easily to him and he completed his matriculation, finished school and joined Delhi College (now called Zakir Hussain College)  where he topped his BA Class. Soon after completing his MA in English Literature he was invited to teach at the very same college, and then later moved to Khalsa College. An interesting insight of that era and one that he always spoke of with a twinkle in his eye was the red coloured bike that he bought at this time- one which became a source of immense pride and joy for him.

Lasting friendships and strong bonds were forged by him during this time and there are many interesting stories that his friends have shared viz.Mr Amarjeet Singh as well as Mr Krishan Mohan, followed by Mr SR Wadhwa who worked with him closely in the Income Tax Office in Meerut.

Pop joined the Indian Revenue Service  opting for the Income Tax in 1957 and life took a different direction. From teaching young men and women in the University he moved into another zone and during his training at the Income Tax College in Nagpur, many more lifelong friendships and associations were formed. Meeting and marrying our mother Sardarni Satinder Kaur  in 1959 was one of the defining moments of his life.

My parents, soon after their marriage

Born with a golden spoon in her mouth, Mummy, fondly called Biba, was the eldest child of Sodhi Mahinder Singh and  Mrs Rajinder Kaur. From landed gentry, based in Ferozepur, Punjab, and direct descendants of Guru Gobind Singh Ji from my grandfather's side, they were an extremely progressive couple who firmly believed that education was the best gift they could give their children. Accordingly, my mother was sent to Tara Hall in Shimla while her brothers went to other reputed schools in India.

Mummy and Pop-14th July 2016 

Married for 58 years, till my mother’s passing, their relationship was unique- love, admiration, friendship and over and above all this, a huge amount of respect for each other  was what made this relationship so special. We saw it in all their intearctions and I’m confident, all of you saw it too.

Following are some personal insights about Pop via extracts from an article I had written on Father’s Day three years back.

‘Memories’

Waking up in agony and crying with an acute stomach pain at night. I must have been about 7 years old and we lived in Calcutta at the time.

Pop  came rushing in from his bedroom and asked me what the problem was. All I could manage to say  was, " My stomach is paining Pop. Very badly."

As it happened that day, our car was at the garage for some major repair and we had no means of transport. It must have been 2 am but my father didn't hesitate. He just picked me up and ran. 

Ran in the middle of the night for almost 1 km, till he reached the home of our family doctor, Dr. Mrs. Pai. Ringing the bell with quiet determination, yet ensuring that I was doing OK, my dad became a real hero in my eyes that day.

What followed was not quite as exciting. As it turned out, I had a case of severe indigestion 
( not appendicitis as my parents had thought initially) and after a dose of medication and a quiet lie in, Dr Pai drove us back home.

It was about 6 am by then after which my dad proceeded with his normal day's routine- got ready for the office,and worked a whole busy day while I rested at home waiting for him to return.

A bond was forged that day and one that continued for life. 

Of course Pop  did all the normal things that dads do for their children.He held my hand as I learnt to walk. He picked me up when I was low. He cared for me when I was sick. He gave me a warm and loving hug whenever I needed it. 

Over and above, he also did some interesting things such as accompany me for my night shift at the General Overseas Service  (GOS) at All India Radio, New Delhi where he would sit in the newsroom watching, listening to and making interesting conversation with all the famous newsreaders of the time-Lotika Ratnam, Vijay Daniels and so many more.

With my father-Dec 2016

Incidentally, I must point out here that my father was the only parent ever permitted to enter the "secure zone" of All India Radio . The reason- he didn't want to deprive me of a wonderful opportunity to experience the life of an English Announcer. Yet he wanted to ensure that I was safe and that all was well.

Makes me wonder how many other dads would have done this for their daughter?

I could go on and on- my dad told me and my brother interesting stories inculcated a love for the fine things in life- coffee, chocolates, eating out and enjoying being 'foodies' wherever we traveled and so much more.

Many years later, in Sep 2013, and then again in November of that same year, my mother had to undergo a major surgery. We were based in Muscat, Oman at the time and while we were fully abreast with all that was happening on a daily basis, we had planned to come to Delhi closer to the surgery. Goes without saying, my dad had to bear the brunt of the pre op tests, finalising the admission procedures, along with everything else.

Finally all that was done, the date for the first surgery was set in September and we reached well in time for the operation. My husband Avi and I spent time with Pop during the procedure and realised that he was in acute mental stress. Giving him a tight hug, both of us told him that all would be well, it was a mere matter of time.

We saw his eyes well up with tears and while he quickly brushed them away, he hugged us back and said, "I really couldn't have done this without  you,  my bacchas."

An unimaginably poignant  moment and I don't mind admitting that a few tears escaped my eyes too. Here was this strong man, my dad telling us that he couldn't have done it without us.

Pop with my husband Avi-2016

With my parents and daughter- March 2016

Some extracts from 'Tell me a story' that I wrote for my column My Take in the Muscat Daily.

Ever since people began to communicate with each other, "Tell me a story" has been requested by both children as well as adults.  There is something  fascinating about sitting around and listening to words which come out of someone else’s mouth and trying to put picture associations to those same words.

My brother Navtej with Mummy

As children, almost every night for many, many years, whenever we could manage, my brother Navtej
and myself would wait for him to tell us one of his enthralling tales. I don't know how he did it, but all his stories, whether based on real life incidents or a creation of his imagination, were very exciting, taking us into a whole new world,where we could actually almost see and experience all that he used to talk about. Which is exactly where I started from, that great pleasure that a child gets when ‘visualising’ what is being told. It is also a matter of great credit to the storyteller for being able to generate such a response in a young and impressionable mind and this is something for which I’m able to give credit to my father only in retrospect.

Particularly memorable were his stories about Air Marshal Arjun Singh and some of his daredevil missions in the skies.Then there were the stories which taught us all about our history, culture, tradition, valour along with great things that people had done and achieved in this world. These were the stories about people like Guru Gobind Singh, Shivaji Maratha, Rani Laxmibai and Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose and Helen Keller.

Then of course, there were the funny stories, which consisted of make believe characters and an extended storyline where the four of us as a family would get involved in their lives and adventures. The real beauty of these tales were that these were a never ending saga and could go on and on endlessly, taking right up from where it had been left off the last time around as there was no defined beginning or an end to these.

Keeping both of us enthralled for hours and hours on end, then after one got over, repeatedly begging him, "Pop, one more, just one more"

And  he would always, always, always oblige.

Time passed and I became a mother.

Of a very bright child with an equally hungry mind.

One who demanded “Tell me a story” whenever she wanted to hear one. So that I learnt to delve into the inner recesses of my mind and pull out some of those I remembered my father telling me and when I ran out of those I learnt to improvise, just as I remembered him doing. Creating some characters with whom the family travelled together, went on adventurous trips with and did a whole lot of fun stuff. One of the characters who became an all time favourite with my daughter Neha was a little monkey who I called ‘Pikoo’ and one who went wherever my mind decided to take him. Alternately, wherever my daughter wanted him to go and so began the next generation saga along with a new series of never ending tales.

Today, as I'm reminded of those days, I'd like to take this opportunity to say “Thank You Pop, for that's where I really learnt my love of storytelling and now that of writing stories. I loved your stories then and love them even more now.”

At Mashobra- April 2018

Finally, I want to share some of the best times of our lives with Pop. As recently as April 2018, my husband Avi and myself  prevailed upon and succeeded in taking Pop to spend some time with us at our home in Mashobra. That fortnight will forever serve as the best memory  as we walked, talked, went out on day trips, met up with friends, sat and enjoyed a drink on most evenings, watched movies  and then  talked some more. He shared so many thoughts, experiences and stories from his life and all we could do was marvel and thank God that he was peaceful and relaxed.

Pop -Mashobra,April 2018 

I close with a beautiful line by Melody Beattie, one which is extremely apt for my father.

“Live from your heart, and share from your heart. And your story will touch and heal people’s souls.”

-

Remembering Mummy on Mothers Day

"A mother is she who can take the place of all others but whose place no one else can take." 
( Cardinal Meymillod)

For those of you who have been following my blog, you know that I lost my beautiful mother Satinder on 17th October 2017 and life has never been the same since.

Every day, I realise, more and more, how much she shaped so many different aspects of my life and along with that so many, many others, including my father and brother's.

Just 21 years older to me, my mother was a pillar of strength for all of us at different stages of our life. Most importantly, her strength  and fortitude in dealing with her own ailments, particularly through 2017, will serve to remind us forever that true courage has many forms, but for for us, it was in the form of Mummy.

Mummy saying a prayer of gratitude before her meal

I received this beautiful piece  from my brother Navtej yesterday it touched a deep chord in me. 

It was Mummy's birthday yesterday and  Mothers day tomorrow and I'm convinced, its a must share.

For those lucky to still be blessed with your Mom, this is a great reminder.

For those of us who aren't, this is even more beautiful. For those who are moms, you'll love this.

"The young Mother set her foot on the path of life. "Is this the long way?" she asked. 

And the Guide said:  "Yes, and the way is hard. And you will be old before you reach the end of it

But the end will be better than the beginning."

 The young Mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. 

So she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed them in the clear streams; and the sun shone on them, and the young Mother remarked,

"Nothing will ever be lovelier than this." 

Then the night came, and the storm, and the path was dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle, and the children said, 

"Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and nothing can harm us."

And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary. 

But at all times she said to the children,
" A little patience and we are there."

So the children climbed, and when they reached the top they said,

"Mother, we would not have made it without you." 

And the Mother, when she lay down at night looked up at the stars and said,"This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned fortitude in the face of hardness. 

Yesterday I gave them courage. Today, I've given them strength." 

And the next day came strange clouds, which darkened the earth, clouds of war and hate and evil, and the children groped and stumbled, and the mother said: "Look up. Lift your eyes to the light."

And the children looked and saw above the clouds an everlasting glory, and it guided them beyond the darkness.

And that night the Mother said,

"This is the best day of all, for I have shown my children God."

And the days went on, and the weeks and the months and the years, and the mother grew old and she was little and bent. 

But her children were tall and strong, and walked with courage. And when the way was rough, they lifted her, for she was as light as a feather; and at last they came to a hill, and beyond they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide. 

And Mother said,"I have reached the end of my journey.

And now I know the end is better than the beginning, for my children can walk alone, and their children after them."

 And the children said, 

"You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates." 

And they stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates closed after her.  And they said: 

"We cannot see her but she is with us still.

A Mother like ours is more than a memory.  She is a living presence "

Your Mother is always with you. 

She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street; she's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks; she's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well. 

Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she's crystallised in every teardrop.

She's the place you came from, your first home; and she's the map you follow with every step you take. 

She's your first love and your first heartbreak, and nothing on earth can separate you'll. Not time, not space.. 

Not even death."

With my mother Satinder and my grandmother Rajinder Kaur

And so, I will strive to go through 2018 with my mother as my guiding star and my angel who watches above us from somewhere up above.

And if I fail, I will try, then try again and finally, try some more.

For that is exactly what Mummy would have wanted me to.

2018 and a new phase of my life - After Mummy

I look at my life as distinctly having two parts.

'With' Mummy and 'After' Mummy.

My mother, Satinder Serna 

I know it may be hard for some people to understand the logic behind these words but it really is so very simple.

I was a different person when my mother was alive and I feel like a completely different person after she has left us.

There is a hole in my heart which hasn't been filled two and a half months later. On the first day of 2018, today, while I've been involved in a wide range of other things, all I could do was think about how it would have been if I could see, touch and hear my lovely mother Satinder.

There are two parallel streams of thought running through my head at all times of the day- one, the real world where I have to participate in day to day activities and in many cases, initiate them.

The other, thoughts of my mother and everything she meant to me. 

In a word, 'indescribable'. 

Every day, I realise, more and more, how much she shaped so many different aspects of my life and along with that so many, many others, including my father and brother's.

So while my pain may take forever to go away, I'm going to try my best to turn it into my biggest strength.

I am now going to live my life more and more the way that my mother would have wanted me to. On a day to day basis, as well as on a longer term too.

I am going to be thankful for the fact that she was a part of my life till October 2017 and encouraged and enthused  me to become the person that I am today.

Just 21 years older to me, my mother, Satinder, was a pillar of strength for all of us at different stages of our life. Most importantly, her strength  and fortitude in dealing with her own ailments, particularly through 2017, will serve to remind us forever that true courage has many forms, but for for us, it was in the form of Mummy.

And so, I will strive to go through 2018 with my mother as my guiding star and my angel who watches above us from somewhere up above.

And if I fail, I will try, then try again and finally, try some more.

For that is exactly what Mummy would have wanted me to.

Mummy -Our very own Guardian Angel

Mummy and me- March 2015

Mummy left us two weeks ago and with that life changed forever.

Grief lies coiled like a snake at the pit of my stomach and rears its head at any point of the day or night.

I try to control it momentarily, and succeed at times. But mostly fail as it works it's way up into my head and then spills out of my eyes.

I cry until it has passed, then steel myself.

Until it begins again, then I allow myself the luxury of the hot tears 

as Mummy would have wanted me to.

My grandmother, Mataji, Mrs Rajinder Kaur Sodhi,   passed away in 1991 and  Mummy who had a very special bond with her had to deal with the same loss and battle the same grief that we are grappling with right now. And in her own inimitable way, she handled it as magnificently as she handled so many other issues in her life, most of them being health related.

Mataji, Mummy and me

Born with a golden spoon in her mouth, Mummy, fondly called Biba, was the eldest child of Sodhi Mahinder Singh and  Mrs Rajinder Kaur. Landed gentry, based in Ferozepur, Punjab, and direct descendants of Guru Gobind Singh Ji from my grandfather's side, they were an extremely progressive couple who firmly believed that education was the best gift they could give their children. Accordingly, my mother was sent to Tara Hall, 

( Loreto) Shimla, while her two brothers, Manjit and Baljit went to Col Brown’s and Doon School in Dehradoon.

Excelling in academics as well as games, my mother enjoyed the unique distinction of being appointed Head Girl as well  as Sports Captain of the school in her final year. Many years later, my brother Navtej and myself were thrilled to see her name on the Honour Roll of the school and had the opportunity to meet and interact with a couple of Irish nuns who had taught Mummy and regaled us with some delightful snippets about her school days.

With a deeply religious bent of mind, Mummy believed strongly in all religions but her personal favourites were Christianity  as well as Sikhism, the religion that she was born into.Queen Elizabeth and Elizabeth Taylor were as much her favourite celebrities as were Suraiya and Maharani Gayatri Devi of Jaipur. As for the actors, Dharmendra won hands down followed closely by Dev Anand. 

With a delightfully husky voice, Mummy learnt the basics of Shastriya Sangeet and some Kathak as well. Years later and much to our amazement, remnants of her Kathak training remained well instilled, she could still lift her eyebrows one by one and and enjoyed sharing little snippets of her life with all of us.

College was at Lady Irwin, New Delhi where she studied Home Science with a precision that only she was capable of. However, a meeting with my father, Harnam Singh Serna, a handsome and dashing Probationary Officer in the Income Tax was to have far reaching consequences and having got married in Feb 1959, resulted in a magnificent partnership of 58 years. In fact, my mother's fervent desire particularly in her last year was to die a 'Suhagan' ( still married) and as  it happened, that was exactly God's plan too.   

My parents- July 2016

Mummy- Early 2013, shortly before her surgery

I couldn't  help but marvel at her positive outlook and zest for life. Despite the fact that she had severe arthritis, spondylitis and numerous other health related concerns for the last many years, she was always smiling, positive and interested in what other people were involved with - their dreams, their aspirations and forever ready to share her immense knowledge if the other person was positively inclined.

Another very significant aspect of my mother's life was her extremely well developed intuitive abilities as well as her remarkable sixth sense. While there are many amazing stories of her insights into things that were about to ( and eventually did happen) her relationship with her mother, Mataji, (particularly after her passing) remained as strong as ever. Over the years, Mummy told us about  are numerous instances when Mataji came to her and helped her and in this piece I am sharing an article I wrote in Nov 2013.

"Mummy came back home yesterday after a 15 day stay at Medanta the Medicity, in Gurgaon.

It was a moment to cherish forever and as the ambulance brought her back home, she smiled, looked up at her home, said 'Satnam Shri Waheguru" and then just as she came in, "Home is where the heart is." We couldn't agree more!

Thankfully, the surgery went off well but it was the post op complications that kept her in the hospital a week longer than all of us had planned.But that extra week is what has taught all of us the power of patience and belief in what a combination of a good hospital, good after care, a great team of doctors and nursing staff and so much more. It has also taught us that there is a certain pace to everything and that try and wish as we might, people will heal only at the pace that they can.

It has  also convinced me more than ever before that our guardian angels are always there for us and they are also the ones that keep our mind, body and spirits strong as well give us hope for the future. And this little story will tell you exactly what I mean.

As Mummy tells me, after the five and a half hour surgery, she was moved from the OT to the Post Op room till she regained consciousness. (It is only after this that the patient is moved to the ICU)

It was then that she had this sleeping- waking dream which was  so real that she actually felt warm, safe and comfortable. It was a crowded place with many people milling around. Mummy says it was as though she was looking down at the scene and felt as if she was searching for something, or was it someone?

Some time later, she saw exactly who it was. Mataji, her mum, was sitting in the middle of the crowd and dealing firmly with hordes of people who seemed to be running towards  the opposite direction. In fact, a few of them even told her to leave that place as soon as possible for there was something not quite right there. It was then that Mummy saw Mataji stand up and deal with that situation as firmly as she dealt with many  things in her life. Telling all of them to carry on in the direction that they were heading towards and firmly standing her ground against a few who seemed as if they would sweep her off with them, she said in a loud voice.

"Cant you see, there's no way that I can leave this spot? My daughter is lying ill in bed there and I will wait until she has recovered."

At that, the crowd moved on and she sat alone, waiting.

And some time later, Mummy recovered full consciousness, knowing that her guardian angel had been there for her.

Yet again.... 

It all felt so real.'" she said and I believed her.

Implicitly."

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My parents with my husband Avi and daughter Neha

Mummy with my brother Navtej- Nov 2015

Cut to a few days back- the 20th of Sep to be precise- Mummy was in a hospital room at Fortis Escorts and having been in and out of ICU's four times already this year, was hoping to be discharged in the next couple of days. She had been very quiet for a while so I decided to start  a conversation.

"We haven't talked about Mataji for a while, Mummy. Do you still see her now and then?"

Her response- "She's with me all the time. In fact, right now, she's sleeping next to me." Then patting the left side of her bed, she smiled gently.

I sat there silent, wondering what that meant.

Three weeks later, I knew- Mataji had been with her daughter through her last weeks and had then taken her back to be with her forever and ever.

I'm equally certain that just like her own mother, Mummy is now our guardian angel. Last evening something that we had all been dealing with for over a year finally came to a close. Even though Mummy isn't physically there with us to share it, she is smiling down at all of us from up above and with that thought, I know that we will be able to deal with the aching void that she has left behind.

Then I realise that she is now a part of every breath I take and of every thought I think.