Unleash Your Inner Maama

Growing up in South India, we were taught to call every adult male – Maama, out of respect. The various Maamas were distinguished by their first name – Guru Maama, Dave Maama. Modern versions evolved – Ramki Uncle and female forms – Shantha Maami and Vandu Aunty and Hema Maama – Hema Maami’s husband.

Two Maamas in my life had life-changing and lasting impacts – a vivacious, persuasive thinker whose presence spanned 37 years and a tranquil architect who played a cameo role. 

ANNU MAAMA

He was our Pied Piper. With large eyes, a spring in his step, hands waving, music to jazz it up and a voice that could take you through all his emotions, Annu Maama (AM), my mother’s brother gave life to his characters from mythology, Alice in Wonderland and Enid Blyton.

We were soon old enough for real workplace, travel and people stories from AM’s life. In the mix were anecdotes of his fascinating interactions with the famed classical musicians of the time (a fan, organizer, compere and great orator). There was the story of when he formed a human chain across the Marine Drive in Bombay to stop traffic and find rides for train passengers that were stranded due to a strike. The temple where he refused to partake in a meal that was meant for the privileged class. We mustered a lot of courage and secret pride, when we were witness to his public outrage at societal inequities and systemic inefficiencies. 

“War does not determine who is right – only who is left,” I can hear AM say if he read today’s newspaper, adding “Bertrand Russell.” And then lead us into a discussion of the world news. We debated elections – Indian, British, American, or Russian, with Chanakya Neeti on the side. Nothing was off limits. We got loud, we took sides, we debated, and often left not too convinced who ‘won’. But what we got was many points of view and food for thought.

With Annu Maama, the Cricket World Cup 1983 was as exhilarating as the tennis Australian Open. We rejoiced in the spectacular extravaganza of Bollywood’s ‘Hum Apke Hain Kaun’, felt deeply pained by ‘Schindler’s List’, and doubly charged after ‘Phaniamma’, a movie that tackled the cruel side of widowhood. And then returned to the at-home reruns through post movie critiques. 

Poof, our genie called for a music session, a book reading, or a veda discussion at home. AM was connoisseur of the art of spontaneity. He indulged in a food making spectacle at these sessions, with his elves in tow. Around him, you either already had his intensity and zest for life or you were destined to soak it up in time.

“Real kindness seeks no return: Thirukkural”, quoting pensively from a Tamil sacred book, he would embark on a blanket distribution trip to an orphanage or a book donation at a school. Start small rather than dream big, he said, and let the impact compound.

A maverick with books, Annu Maama never succumbed to a genre, an author, a language, a geography or a school of thought. Russel, Solzhenitsyn, Buck, Tolstoy, R.L. Stevenson, O.Henry, Rand easily shuffled with Premchand, Thiruvalluvar and the Kamba Ramayanam. He sought translated works or audio tapes for languages he didn’t read – Akkamahadevi Vachanas, and D.V. Gundappa’s works. Poetry found a special place in his heart – reading, reciting, and writing. With his photographic memory, once read, the books were restless in search of the next reader. 

Talk-show host style he often put us center stage. “Koosu,” AM would say lovingly for child, “I am fascinated with the pace of internet technology. Tell me about your work.” It was the early nineties. “The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it’s yours,” he often quoted Ayn Rand as he urged us women to lead the way to progress.

KANNA MAAMA

I was raised at a time and culture that groomed women for a suitable groom. The cultural pressures of not finding a worthy man if I became an engineer were stinging, and the education was financially out of reach. The first was easier for my parents to embrace, but the second was a stretch. A chance meeting with Kanna Maama was the clincher. He made a pledge – all books and equipment required for the duration of the course will be provided at no cost. The only expectation – everything be returned in reusable condition. Sometimes I got his old T-square, geometry box and books. Often, I reveled in the crispness of latest new books or a mini drafter. The five years went by fully equipped, in mind, body and spirit.

Kanna Maama, an occasional visitor (relative) to our neighbor’s, an electrical engineer by profession, an unruffled soul with a very large heart, wrote one of the important chapters in my life.

Between the vivacious and the calm, I was empowered to hold my own as a woman.

Tap into your inner Maama. You can make a world of difference.