It’s August, which means it’s time for Raksha Bandhan. This year, I’m away from home, but I remember how important this festival is for our families.
Weeks before Rakhi, sisters start sending boxes of sweets to their brothers. In return, the brothers give gifts or money to their sisters. This exchange continues throughout the month of sending rakhi. Whenever I see this exchanging of gifts or items, I sometime feel, how superficial it all is. We give someone a gift, then we are indebted to that person, and then they give us a gift to repay that debt, and this cycle goes on year after year. Perhaps that’s why we can repay all worldly debts but not those to our parents, because what gift can ever equal that?
Anyway, I don’t intend to preach about parental love right now. What I really wanted to reflect on during this Rakhi festival is a special person: my Mosi. What is so special about her? Let me try to explain. My aunt has always had a unique way of gifting me since childhood. She would buy me new clothes every Rakhi and birthday. It’s surprising that she always knew which clothes I had and what colors, and what kinds of clothes she should get me next. Not only that, my aunt remembers every single thing I like to eat: ber (jambolan), singhade (water chestnuts), guava, garlic chutney, chulha ki roti (traditional Indian bread), and dhaniya ke laddu (coriander sweets). In this matter, she surpasses even my mother.
I remember when I was in Roorkee, I would receive a box of sweets from her for every festival, containing only the things I liked to eat. At that time, I found these things so normal that I thought everyone must experience this. It must be the job of all Mosi’s. But now that I am far away from home, I realize that this doesn’t just happen like that. It only happens with a few fortunate people. There are very few debts in life that can never be repaid. You can give an expensive gift in return for an expensive gift, clothes for clothes, and money for money. But I have never understood how I could ever repay the gifts she has given me. I can neither send her better laddus nor does she need the clothes from me. In fact, I don’t even know what she likes to eat.
If you want to make a lasting place in a child’s life, you don’t give them expensive gifts or money; you give them things that truly connect you with them. You do for them what only you can do.
From her, I learned that if you want to make a lasting place in a child’s life, you don’t give them expensive gifts or money; you give them things that truly connect you with them. You do for them what only you can do. These gifts will stay with them as cherished memories that keep you emotionally connected for life. Because this is where gift exchanges cannot measure the bond, and we remain indebted for life. And you’re fortunate if, beyond your parents, there are others in your life who also fall into this category.
