Most of us don't count our blessings. Here is a woman who not only changed her life, but also 1000s of others. She has a fascinating story for all of us. Ever since I got an opportunity to read an article about this amazing woman, my life has changed for better. She is my hero! Yes, I am in love with this lady how helped me to see the brightest side of life. She is my teacher, my mentor and my admiration for her never seems to fade away. She carries her heart on her sleeves. Her story is too fascinating that it will resonate in your mind for a very long time. She will touch your heart, she will teach you to do the right things, she will help you to boost your morale. What an extra ordinary journey she has. It is so rightly said that it takes little ''extra'' to be that ''extraordinary''. A little effort can bridge the gap. I've never met her not even once, yet i feel so close to her. I am truly blessed to have lived in her era.In Bagavadgeetha (Chapter 16, verse 2) it says "Truthfulness is relating the facts as they are and not as one wants them to be perceived. Absence of anger is calmness within the mind without agitation even when rebuked, attacked or in the process of defending oneself. Tyagah is renunciation of possessions and thus natural generosity. Tranquillity is complete control of the mind. Freedom from slander is absence of envy and retaliation. Compassion is kindness to all living beings especially when they are in distress. Non-covetousness is self satisfaction with what one has been allotted in life. Gentleness is absence of cruelty or harshness. Modesty is shyness in decorum and hesitancy in even the thought of wrong doing. Absence of fickleness is the avoidance of frivolous activities. Boldness is courage in asserting what is truth and defending righteousness. Forgiveness is not becoming upset by humiliation. Fortitude is steadying the mind when under great duress. Purity is external and internal cleanliness. The lack of conceit is absence of thinking of oneself egotistically. These 26 qualities related by Lord Krishna are characterised by one who is situated in the divine nature and thus qualified to attain association with the Supreme Lord and His devotees."
I love you ''Aai''!
She is my living god and I salute to you Mother!
She was born Chindi (rag). One brother was Kachra (rubbish), the other Bhoosa (sawdust). Their father was a cowherd in Vidarbha and when Sindhutai Sapakal (she renamed herself after the sea) was a little girl, all she did was tend to cattle. Her heart, though, was not in it. So she would wait for the buffaloes to finish grazing and lower their bulk into a pool of muddy water. ‘‘I then rushed to school,’’ she recalls in Marathi that carries the accent of the hinterland. ‘‘Since I would never make it before the lunch break, I call myself a ‘half-time fourth pass’,’’ says the 61-year-old recently given a special seniorcitizen award by Harmony Foundation. She couldn’t finish school but the many kids Sindhutai has mothered in her orphanage have done her proud. One of her adopted sons, Shyam, has even chosen her life as the subject for his PhD thesis. And why not? It’s a remarkable story. Her parents got her married when she was nine to a man 26 years her senior. ‘‘The wedding was fun,’’ she says. ‘‘I got to wear new clothes. There was lots of food and the band played till late in the evening. The baraat came very late, by which time the dal (lentil) went bad. And there was no coconut, so my in-laws were upset.’’ Two years later, as was customary in the village, Chindi was dispatched to her husband’s house, where she was effectively the child-maid: she did the housework, collected cow dung, cooked on the hot chulha, and bore her husband three sons. ‘‘I’d get bored but there was no choice,’’ she says. ‘‘My mother-in-law called me halkat (naughty) and made sure my (illiterate) husband beat me up when she caught me trying to read Marathi poetry on scraps of newspaper that came home as paper bags.’’ Little Chindi smartened up after a few thrashings. After she memorised a poem, she simply swallowed the newspaper. Then came the turning point. Chindi bore her fourth child, a girl. ‘‘My inlaws didn’t want the baby (Mamata) or me. They began to starve me,’’ she says. ‘‘I knew my baby would die, so I left the house eight days after she was born. My mother-in-law was happy to see me go.’’ Lugging the child, Chindi walked 30 km back to her dead father’s house. Her mother was not happy to see her. ‘‘She wanted nothing to do with me, so I walked to the train station,’’ she says. ‘‘I crouched on the floor with my baby. In despair, I began to sing a bhajan, pleading with God to help me.’’ Help came in the form of coins that passers-by threw. Despite her own misery, Chindi noticed that the station was home for many orphans. So the bhakri (bread made with rice) was shared with the kids. But there wasn’t enough food to go around, and finally one day, she boarded a train to Pune. ‘‘I decided to give Mamata up. It was a difficult decision but sheer practicality won over maternal instinct. Mamata was left at the Dagdusheth Halwai Trust in Pune and her mother went back to the railway station and her orphans. ‘‘Gaana gaya toh khana mila.’’ (I sang for my supper). From songs, she moved to small lectures. ‘Ration for bhashan’ became her mantra. The money came in but there was still the matter of shelter. ‘‘It was then that I decided to spend nights at the crematorium,’’ she says. ‘‘Heat from the pyres would keep me warm and fruit and rice used for the funerals would fill my belly,’’ says the portly Sindhutai. ‘‘But it was so hard. If I managed to sleep at all, I had nightmares and woke up crying. People from the neighbouring village would hear me and say the crematorium was haunted. Those were wretched days.’’ In 1986, Sindhutai moved to Chikhaldhara to live with the tribals there. Speaking up for tribal rights, she became quite the activist and people began flocking to her speeches. Cannily, she decided to build a Krishna temple ‘‘because I knew it would be easier to draw people to religion rather than education’’. Her reputation as a protector of orphans was well known already. Meanwhile, Mamata was growing up in the Pune ashram. ‘‘She would visit me during the holidays. We would all live like one large family and eat whatever was available. She got no special treatment,’’ says her mother. In 1998, Sindhutai established Sapta Sindhu, an ashram for widows and children. She has nurtured 1,042 kids over the last decade. ‘‘I have 199 sons-in-law and 36 bahus,’’ she says proudly. To all of them, she is Aai (mother). Her daughter Mamata, who now has a degree in Psychology and a Master’s in social work, also helps out at the ashram. At 61, Sindhutai has perfect vision and a robust constitution. In February 2009, she was invited to the Vishwa Marathi Sahitya Sammelan in the US. ‘‘I was so scared the aircraft would fall down,’’ she grins.
Courtesy TOI, Thanks to Anubha Sawhney Joshi | TNN for bring this story to the world.
The following video is the trail of a Marati Film based on this woman.
