Mother Teresa knew how to laugh at false pretentions

If she could, she would have turned the huge palatial buildings for our VIPs, such as the Governor's House, the Assembly, the Victoria Memorial into houses for the poor.

Once while driving down the lush Maidan, the majestic Victoria Memorial sprawling in all its grandeur caught her attention. It's not that she was seeing the marble splendor for the first time. It's that she was seeing the space in a new light.

"Sunita, can't you give me this monument for the house of the poor," she had asked in all her childish simplicity. Close confidante Sunita, spokesperson of Missionaries of Charity, couldn't help saying: "Do you think you can?"

Suddenly the heavily creased face lit up with the playfulness and dejection of a child being refused a toy. "I don't think I can."

Call it her sense of humour or comic timing, Mother knew how to laugh at false pretentions, the dichotomy around us with a straight face.

There is colossal waste of space, splurging of money for the haves, whereas for the havenots, life is a constant struggle for every inch of space, for every breath of right. The City of Joy, which is our Kolkata, throws up this interesting mix. Love, compassion, feeling and service for the poor was her life's calling.

She had a natural ability to mingle with and embrace the unwanted, unloved and uncared for. Even when she was ailing and was on a stretcher, waiting to be shifted from one hospital to another, she would not forget to ask the driver of an ambulance: "Kemon achho?" (how are you?), or smile and bless the wardboys and nurses, who came to see her off.

A smiling happy face lights up the most dreary and shabby place. Perhaps this is why the sisters and inmates of Mother's House are always smiling, even though they might be dealing with the most dreary situations.

Mother in her younger days would be seen breaking in carefree laughter at her 11, Creek Lane, office over outdoor games. Cackles of laughter, a cheerful appearance and a warm, affectionate touch are what she considered to be the tonic for those who were living a life devoid of them. And so she saw to it that Sisters ensured a dignified life for the dying, the destitute and the deprived.  

Tug of War was one such game in which Mother would participate and sweat it out with the Sisters. "It would be a fair game and Mother would never give in. She would fight till she could," recalled Sunita.

Perhaps Tug of War to Mother was symptomatic of the power game that goes on in life, and in this constant tussle she represented and stood for the poor, for whom life was a constant battle for survival, for getting their muffled voices heard.

"God loves a cheerful giver," she would often say when people wanted to help her. The idea was never to impose anything on anyone. "Nobody could say no to her, such was the genuineness of her appeal. The Indian Railways, certain airlines would offer free tickets to the Sisters, without her having to ask," Sunita recalled.

Mother had no secretary or rather wouldn't want a secretary to run errands. She would make and pick up her own calls and many VIPs, who asked their secretaries to connect to her, would be ashamed to know that they had kept Mother waiting in the process.

"Yes", that's how she would answer the phone anytime anyone needed her and it was so reassuring.

One of Mother's last wishes had been to have a unit of Missionaries of Charity in China, but nobody could fathom why.

"I would tell her that since we have one in Hong Kong and it is now part of China, she does have a house for the poor there," Sunita said.

China's transformation from a socialist country to a superpower and its long, outstretched arms in its pursuit of grabbing the world market and economy, was perhaps lacking in one thing - the Mother's healing touch.

Perhaps Mother would be able to tell.

Also read: Kolkata has its saints of reason, doesn’t need to celebrate Mother Teresa

Also read: What Mother Teresa taught me about life and other lessons