Lakshmi (Resident of MG Home for the Aged)

It is close to dusk on a Saturday evening. The ladies of the Mahatma Gandhi Home for the Aged are seated around the two television sets, one upstairs and the other downstairs, eagerly awaiting the weekly special of the full feature Tamil movie. “Saturday evenings are much awaited,” says Royal. In his mid-forties, Royal looks youthful – lightly built, and with an expressive and mobile face that breaks easily into a disarming smile. To these elderly ladies, he is their beloved ‘foster’ son.

Today I am there to meet and hear the story of one of its residents, Lakshmi, who lived and worked in the Auroville area. Her life story, like that of many others at the Home, is one played with by the capriciousness of fate. A life that began well but gradually bad luck descends and leads it to rock bottom and then, by Grace, the inevitable ascent to a life of dignity and joy under the shelter of the Gandhi Home for the Elderly.

Lakshmi has been expecting my arrival; she jumps down exuberantly from the high sofa and grabs my hand, shaking it vigorously in greeting. The three of us move up to the terrace where we can talk quietly.

“I am very happy here – I have been here for the last 5 years, and I have no lack of anything,” says Lakshmi, dressed warmly for the Pondicherry winter, a sweater over her sari and blouse, and a woolen cap covering her ears. “Royal is my son. There is no hunger here; he provides us with enough food, and enough tea and for me, enough betel leaves and nuts to chew…! He is like a goatherd who brings in fresh tender greens for the goat that is me!

“I was born near Ulundurpettai in the village of Kalarukuppam; it was the day Gandhi was killed – that will tell you how old I am [66 years]. I was married off to a carpenter in Thoothukudi. He found work in Auroville under a maestri doing construction. So my husband, I, and our 1-year old son came to live in Kuilaypalayam. It was a good life. I also found work in the factory that made paper for wrapping soaps. For 16 years I worked there until the place was closed down by Mr. Ojha [the Auroville administrator, eds.]. But soon a technical unit dealing with fabric and tailoring was opened in the same building by a Hindi man. I worked 6 years at this place intil I injured my knee there and could not work anymore. By this time my husband had died. I now found some garden work at a few homes in Auroville where I would cut grass.

My son was a stone sculptor. He was working for a foreigner from Italy in Thandrakuppan, near Mudaliarchavadi. That man bought some land and registered it under my son’s name, and they were living there while I continued in Kuilaypalayam.

My son fell in love and married a girl from Thandrakuppam. Their first was a boy who died, and then a second boy was born. He was well and good at studies. Then fate intervened. My son found out that his wife was unfaithful so he left her and married for the second time, a girl from Edayanachavady. They had a daughter and a son.

But my son’s work with stone carving involved a lot of dust and stone powder. It affected his health badly and he had to be admitted to the hospital to be operated. He died during the operation.

I moved into my son’s home in Edayanachavady to help my daughter-in-law and my grandchildren. Her mother was also living there. Once when my grand-daughter gave me some coffee to drink, this lady told the child, “Why do you offer her coffee? Just lay her down and pour coffee in her mouth.” It was an insult, and I kept quiet. However my grand-daughter got very upset and spoke angrily to this lady. I chided my grand-daughter for being rude to an elderly person. For 2-3 days I stayed on in that house but I was mentally very disturbed. I finally decided to end my life.

I walked to the sea and try walking into the water to die, but some force – it felt like my son was putting his arms around me and pulling me back – kept preventing me. I kept trying again and again to enter the sea from several spots, but every time I was rescued. After five attempts I gave up. I walked to the nearby Periya Amman Koil [Big Goddess temple], climbed up her steps, sat down and had a big cup of tea. Then I bought a lot of betel leaves and nuts and chewed paan to my heart’s content. That was that.

Then I thought of this son, Royal; I had worked for his father Albert at the Auroville Health Centre and I knew he was running a home for old people. I decided that I would go to him and see – if he asked me to stay, I would stay, or else I would go to my birth village.

He told me I could stay, so this is now my son and this is now my home.”