A week ago, Periyakka, edentate and somewhere in her 80s, insisted she had a family. She had a daughter, ‘gold’ of a grandson and a grand daughter, Periyakka lisped through her tears, when The Hindu visited Narendra Nambikkai Natchathiram – a home for orphaned children and destitute elderly in Hosur.
“My grandson is my pounu,” Periyakka, dressed in a fresh purple cotton saree, lisped through her tears. In January, Periyakka was found on a dirty gunny sack, begging in Hosur bus stand, shivering under a chilly Hosur weather. She had a few coins and rupee notes tucked inside the sack. Two transgenders - Satish and Nagaraj - had spotted her in the bus stand. They along with Revathi Mohan, trustee of Narendra Nambikkai Natchathiram, hauled up Periyakka into an autorickshaw and brought her to the home. She was scrubbed clean and given a bed.
When The Hindu visited the home, Periyakka tirelessly repeated the name of a village – Sinnepalli – where she claimed her daughter lived.
The village in Krishnagiri, some 60 km from Hosur, was the only detail she remembered. “Ask for my daughter Seethamma, to someone in the village,” she said.
She alleged that someone brought her to Hosur and left her in the bus stand. For Ms. Mohan, it was conundrum. “What if she’s delusional,” wondered Ms. Mohan. At Sinnepalli, Seetha, a single mother, had taken out an old photo of Periyakka and tucked it inside her purse hoping to go to the local police. In the two months Periyakka went missing, Seetha was looking around for her lost mother, in the little time she had after her work as a sweeper in a private hospital here.
“I took a bus from Krishagiri to Hosur, spent a whole day looking for my mother in temples, bus stand, GH, everywhere,” she said, when The Hindu traced her back in Sinnepalli, mentioned by Periyakka. Every protracted search was costly for Seetha, who was paid ₹3,500 per month, and a leave meant a pay-cut.
On Friday, an anxious Seetha, waited to be picked up from Sinnepalli to meet her mother in Hosur. What followed were human emotions at its pristine simplicity. Periyakka, walked into the reception of the home least expecting to be reunited with her daughter. At first, her feeble vision strayed past her daughter seated in a corner. Seconds later, the old woman showed faint glimmer of recognition. Soon, she broke down, sobbing inconsolably, shivering, before she hugged her daughter tightly.
Seetha, who took her mother into her care, after she was abandoned by her brothers, held her mother close and promised to never let her out of sight.
“This is why we oppose the treatment of destitute elders on the streets as beggars and not as senior citizens,” says Ms. Mohan.
