Annapurna house
I remember my mother speaking of Annapurna house. Her ancestral home in Kumbakonam, Tamil Nadu. I remember her eyes would light up as she described how big the house was, and the long corridor that led to the land behind that also belonged to her family. She would talk about the river Kaveri that flowed near by. A home of abundance by the river.
She also spoke about the generosity of her father who would welcome strangers with an open door. Anyone and everyone who was passing the village could take refuge there and would be welcomed with food anytime of the day and night. He would wake up my grandmother from sleep to cook for the strangers who knocked at their door. That is how the house got the nick name of Annapurna House. Annapurna- the goddess of food and nourishment. In her hand she holds a pot of rice that never get empty. Abundance is what I could feel when my mother talked about her home.
She spoke of the big cars he bought to celebrate her brothers . My grandfather bought an impala I remember my uncle also speaking of it.
We visited this house once. I remember my mothers sadness as we stepped in and requested the people living there if she could show her children this house.
A home she lost when she was 14. My grandfather lost all his wealth, land and home. He was betrayed and cheated by people he trusted. Who gained his trust and made him sign documents which he did not read. This loss came as a big shock to the family. They had to move to a tiny hut. My grandfather, grandmother , mother and here 4 siblings.
My grandmother died in this hut giving birth to her 6th child. On her death bed she called my mom and asked her to promise to be a mother to her siblings. my grandfather could not bare this loss and his children had to be sent to foster homes, families and orphanage.
My mother moved to Mumbai with a hope to find work and gather her siblings again.
Which she did. This is the story of Annapurna House. A story of loss and resilience. Of abundance and nourishment. Of Gried and healing
