Earlier this month, photos from a house warming ceremony in Koppal in Karnataka went viral for one reason — a man’s undying love for his wife who had passed away. 57-year-old K Srinivasa Gupta installed the silicone statue of his late wife MVK Madhavi in his newly constructed house, much to the amazement of the guests. Srinivasa lovingly posed next to the statue, which was dressed in a pink silk saree, for photographs. The statue was made by Gombe Mane sculptors from Bengaluru.
History has it that Emperor Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal, an imposing white marble mausoleum located in present-day Agra, to house the tomb of his favourite wife, Mumtaz Mahal. It was the emperor’s unfailing love towards Mumtaz that inspired him to build the Mahal which is considered to be a symbol of love. Although not as extravagant as the Taj Mahal, time and again people like Srinivasa have shown an extraordinary ability to love and showcase it.
Here are some more heartwarming tales of love from across south India.
This is another story of love that prevailed beyond the grave. About a decade ago, 84-year-old Subbaiah from Usilankulam in Tamil Nadu’s Pudukkottai district was distraught after the passing of his wife. In an interview, he had said, “I lived with her together for over 50 years and I didn’t know how to continue after she left me. I wanted my Shenbagam to be by my side always. I wanted to see her face the first thing in the morning, as soon as I woke up.”
And believe it or not, the octogenarian built a temple in 2009 for his dear wife, commissioning and installing a 5.5-foot tall panchaloha statue in her likeness, made by artisans from Swamimalai at a cost of Rs one lakh.
Subbaiah fell in love with his cousin Shenbagavalli and the couple got married in 1958. They had eight children together and lived a very happy and content life. All was well until 2006, when Shenbagavalli was diagnosed with a kidney disease. After her passing a few years later, Subbaiah built the small shrine for his wife, retying the thaali (mangal sutra) to her statue. Every morning, Subbaiah would wake up to see his wife’s statue and would religiously light up a lamp near it, the hope that his lover is still by his side shining as bright as the lamp.
More than two years ago, Anujath Sindhu Vinaylal, then a boy of 12, began painting a picture of mothers. He had been watching his mother and women in the neighbourhood — a Thrissur town in Kerala — work all day long. At an age when children begin to question the ways of life and notice the irregularities, Anujath wondered about the untiring women who spend their time finishing one chore after another, most often thankless jobs. A boy who turned to art at the age of four, he chose to express what he saw visually.
In a large canvas, he tried to include all those chores one after the other — the mother feeding the chickens, chasing away the birds who come to eat the fresh paddy seeds, stepping out to buy vegetables, milking the cow, tying the daughter's hair, putting out the clothes to dry, cleaning fish, washing big vessels, cooking, pulling out jars of water from the house well, and so on.
The painting titled 'My mother and the mothers in the neighbourhood' won an international award by the end of 2019, in a competition held by Shankar's Academy of Art and Book Publishing. But the award came at a horrible time for the family.
Sindhu, Anujath's mother, had a heart problem and passed away in November 2019. She knew he'd won the award and was quite happy about it but by the time the certificate of recognition reached home, she was gone. The painting became a symbol of love and a representation of all the unacknowledged labour of women. It became the cover page of the state government's gender budget document.
The nationwide lockdown that began in March left lakhs of people stranded and separated from their families. But this particular story from Telangana took everyone by surprise for the sheer extent to which a mother went for the love of her son. 48-year-old Razia Begum rode 1,400 km on a scooter for three days, to bring her son back from Nellore in Andhra Pradesh to their home in Telangana’s Nizamabad district.
Razia, a government school headmistress from Bodhan town, got police permission for interstate travel at a time when travel restrictions were extremely rigid, and there was severe anxiety about stepping outdoors. She endured the incredibly long journey out of love for her 19-year-old son Nizamuddin.
"It was a difficult journey on a small two-wheeler. But the determination to bring my son back overtook all my fears. I packed rotis and they kept me going. It was fearsome in the nights with no traffic movement and people on roads," she had said at the time. Razia, who lost her husband around 15 years ago, was apprehensive about sending her eldest son, worried that the police might mistake him for a joy rider and detain him. Speaking about his mother, Nizamuddin had said, "I was constantly in touch with my mother over the phone. Everyone has superheroes. My mother is only my superhero."
Here’s a story that will tug at your heart long after you’re done reading. Bengaluru-based CJ Topsy Chetty-Rajagopal, short for ‘Calamity Jane’ Topsy Chetty-Rajagopal, is not your average human. In fact, CJ is no human at all. This black-and-white cocker spaniel was brought home by the Rajagopals in 1997. From then, until her passing in 2012, at a ripe dog-age of 91 (13 by human years), CJ would go on to spread joy and hold such a place in her family’s heart that they instituted an award in her name, turning CJ into a legend among canines.
The Annual CJ Memorial Community Guardian Award’s Facebook page describes the award thus: “This Memorial has been set up in her name to help her street siblings and their humans. And to keep alive the memory of this beloved, beloved doggy child who transformed and conquered the family that she adopted in November 1997. The CJ Memorial Community Guardian would carry a plaque and citation, in addition to a cash award of Rs 25000 to be used for the purpose of animal welfare.”
With inputs from Jahnavi Reddy and Cris