Memories of the Mother

Sunita Kumar was Mother Teresa’s closest confidante in Kolkata outside of Mother House

Mother Teresa was a very lively person, full of happiness and smiles. In a way, she was fun. This may seem an odd description given the work she was doing, but Mother did have a great sense of humour. Despite the poverty, disease and squalor that was part of her daily work, I have never seen Mother sad or teary.

And she was caring, very, very so. You could call her up any time of the day and she would answer the phone herself. There were times when I would ring her as late as 11 in the night and she would give my problems a patient hearing. She would never say “I’m tired”, or “I have to go to bed”.

She was a very normal person, just like you or me. I remember once I was wearing my hair in a style that covered my cheeks. Mother tucked the loose strands behind my ear and said: “Ask Naresh (Kumar, her husband) to get you a golden pin.”

Mother would always say that a family that prays together stays together. She would practise this with her co-workers and we continue with the tradition. We have picked up so much of what she said and I hope they have helped make us better human beings.

I would travel with her a lot and the stream of people who came to touch her feet, her sari, amazed me. I could see the love and concern for her in the eyes of the people wherever Mother went.

Her energy level was astounding. She could do so much in one day, we couldn’t cope with her stamina. “How do you carry on like this?” we would ask Mother. “I fill my tank with prayer,” Mother would reply. For her, faith was everything.

It’s been 13 years since Mother passed away. But her home, her sisters and the work she started are flourishing. We never feel that Mother is not with us anymore. The sisters work in the same rhythm as when Mother was around, with great tenacity and with a smile. In 1997, when Mother passed away, there were 605 homes of The Missionaries of Charity across the world. Today, there are 740-odd homes.

Mother always considered Kolkata her home. When she was ill she would want to come back, wherever she was.

In 2003, she was beatified by John Paul II and given the title Blessed Teresa of Calcutta. But the people of the city don’t need her to be canonised to be worshipped. The city loved and revered her when she was around. When she would be driven around the city, people waved out to her from buses and trams. Their love was so spontaneous.

Even now, when we thought of special snack boxes for the children during the centenary celebrations, Nahoum’s in New Market immediately gave us a discount.

There are many people in the city who haven’t met Mother. Many have told me that they regret not having gone and met her when she was alive. Kolkatans think of Mother Teresa as a city icon, much like Victoria Memorial or St Paul’s Cathedral.

This year is Mother’s birth centenary and so many people are celebrating the occasion. But I must say that the way people are going about with the programmes would have met with Mother’s approval.

I remember every time we would drive past Victoria Memorial, Mother would tell me, “Why don’t they give me Victoria Memorial? I would house so many people here!”

Later this year, I wish to hold a painting exhibition with M.F. Husain on Mother at Victoria Memorial. Maybe we can grant Mother her wish then, even if it’s just for a few days!

                                                                                ****

Devi Shetty was Mother Teresa’s chosen physician for six years

It is very difficult to turn a man of science into a believer. Only a divine lady like Mother Teresa has the power to change a mindset. My faith in God was reinstated after I met her.

In the six years that I was blessed to be her physician, I found Mother to be a simple, unassuming lady who ate very little and complained even less. Even when she was admitted at the BM Birla Heart Research Centre, Mother would never say what was troubling her health-wise. We often got inputs from the sisters. A model patient, Mother would bear her pain silently, letting the doctors do their task.

It was amusing to watch her introduce herself to people. Once I accompanied her to a hospital where Mother wanted to meet some patients. She walked up to the receptionist and introduced herself, although the whole world knew her! I think she was not aware how big a source of inspiration she was to the world.

There are so many memories.... Once after seeing a blue baby, Mother said, ‘God must have been absent-minded when he made such children. Then he sent doctors to fix them’. It was one of the best compliments I had ever received.

What started as a professional relationship soon became a personal one. I would often drop by at Mother House, sometimes just for a chat or to greet her during a festival.

When I wanted to admit my daughter in Sophia High School in Bangalore, I approached the nuns of the school, armed with a letter of recommendation from Mother. As soon as I showed the letter to the nuns, they snatched it from me. It was so precious to them, they did not know what to say. It was the biggest treasure the school could have!

Mother’s spiritual presence is just what the world needs now. But I don’t want a second Mother. We can only have one lady like her. She will live on through her work.

                                                                           ****

Sister Shanti, a doctor at Mother House, worked closely with Mother for many years

I joined The Missionaries of Charity because of Mother Teresa. When I was in my 20s, I had read an article in a Bombay newspaper on Mother and her work. I found my calling. I came to Kolkata and joined the mission in 1959. Before I joined, Mother had told me that life would be very tough. “We work for the poorest of the poor,” she said. But it was her gentle smile and kind words that helped me adjust to the new life and its hardships.

Mother sent Sister Andrea and me to study medicine at Nil Ratan Sircar Medical College and Hospital. After getting my degree, I worked in Tanzania in West Africa for 10 years. I returned here in 1980 and since then worked closely with Mother till her death.

She always quoted Jesus’s saying, “I thirst for love and for souls”. She said the most important part of the day was the morning and urged us to pray at the chapel in Mother House to gather strength to continue with our work. We call our prayer house the “power house”. Here we get all the inspiration, enthusiasm and commitment we need to render free, dedicated service to the poorest of the poor.

Mother taught us that at the chapel we pray before the unbroken body of Jesus and in the slums and streets, we encounter the broken body of Jesus in the sick, diseased and dying people.

At Nirmal Hriday, where Mother would tend to the patients, she would ask them what they wanted. “Give me rosogolla Ma, give me puri,” they would say. Mother would make sure that their little wishes were fulfilled.

Once she was speaking to a famous neurologist and told him that whenever you treat the poor, God says “You did it to me.” The doctor was so moved by Mother’s words that he started rendering free service for her patients. He does so even now, a couple of times a week. Such was Mother’s effect on people.

Mother would get a stream of visitors throughout the day and she tried to meet each one of them. She always met her visitors with a big smile; a smile that hid her own pain.

She looked straight into the eyes of the person she was talking to and at that moment, he or she was the most important person for her. Mother would listen to their problems with undivided attention and compassion. Then she would try to help them the best way she could. She would frequently write letters of introduction for patients to eminent doctors — she knew they would never say no to her.

Mother lived like the poorest of the poor in every way. She had a very small room with no fan. She ate the same food as the inmates and drank the same water.

Mother touched the lives of so many people in her lifetime and whoever came in contact with her was transformed for life. Mother had dedicated her whole life to God. “I am just a pencil in God’s hands,” she would say.

Today we miss Mother Teresa but Sister Nirmala has followed in her footsteps and kept her spirit alive. The stream of visitors to Mother House continues and we have sisters from all five continents working here. We draw strength from prayer and the touch of God, just as Mother had taught us.

                                                                                ****

What Mother Teresa meant to Indranil Lahiri, an ex-student of St James

I was an out-standing student of my class. Which is to say, I (and a couple of friends) spent a good deal of our schooldays standing outside the class!

The school didn’t know what to do with us, neither did our parents. And we were clueless as to why the principal would hit the roof every time we skipped history for football or tried to make a bomb in the chemistry lab.

When our parents were called for the 17th time that year, we knew we were in BIG trouble. We were loitering outside our school, trying to gather our wits about us before heading home when we spotted Mother House on the opposite footpath. I don’t remember whose idea it was, but we found ourselves walking across the road and entering the building. We wanted to see Mother Teresa. And she received us.

We spoke our hearts out, complained bitterly about our “unfair” teachers and “cruel” parents. She listened with so much compassion. She told us we must trust our parents. “They are your true friends,” she said.

We went back to Mother a couple of times after that too, when we were down and needed someone to hear us out. And Mother always made time for this bunch of unruly boys.

Back then, we didn’t realise the enormity of our interactions. Today, it seems unbelievable that we imposed on her time so much.

Mother not only gave us a patient hearing, she even acted on our behalf. Once when she deemed that one of us was being unfairly punished, she called up the principal and got the punishment revoked.

The frail old woman in a white sari became our hero. For life.


The Telegraph