It’s an old house in the outskirts of Bangalore. I marvel at the fact they have not pulled it down. I open the gate, and slowly walk to the back and stare at the wall, knowing the kitchen is on the inside and then I hear her voice. It rises, plaintive and beautiful, “Ma,” I whisper, “How did you know I’ve come!” I turn my head and see our neighbour, who smiles at me, “Your mother’s singing again. What a voice Bob!” I nod and turn to say something, and then realize there’s no one there. I turn to the kitchen, to catch the strains of the song, but an eerie silence greets me.

A tear moistens my cheek as I know the voice is gone, that my mother who sang from that same kitchen was also gone, and maybe the neighbour who I’d seen was dead too.

There are strangers at the door of the house, “I lived here once!” I whisper, “Can I see the inside please?”

They let me in, surprised I walk not to bedroom or hall, but to the little dark kitchen, “We don’t know why there are no windows!” says the present owner, “It’s so dark and dingy!”

Their voices fade as I hear her voice again. It fills the kitchen. Suddenly the darkness is dark no more as the small dingy room, turns dazzling bright with her voice. I turn to the new owners, “Look how bright she makes it!” I say, even as they look puzzled.

“My mother sang day in and day out in this same kitchen!” I tell them, “And we two brothers playing outside would hear her and know all was well in our little world!”

They nod and smile as I continue, “She sang light into this dark place!”

“That’s more than most people do!” said the new owner’s wife.

I take the cup of tea offered and smile as the owner’s wife says, “If you can still hear her voice, coming from this dark hole, it must have brightened your life?”

“Oh yes!” I tell them, “Her voice lifted me from the despair of ‘reading, riting, rithmetic and class fights, and my father from his sad attempts at being a businessman! It gave us hope and a will to fight and win!”

I leave the house and walk a distance, then stand and look back. I know many mothers who have lifted their families, given them strength and filled their children with resolve to win, from holes of despair, darker than the kitchen I had just left. To be able to sing, even when the blackness of distress is around, can lift one’s family onto higher ground.

And then I hear her voice, and smile for the positivity It had instilled in me, “Ma,” I whisper, “I hope all mothers bring light into dark kitchens like you did..!”

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