Politics
Of Saris and Grapefruit
by Rukmini Attygalle
A review by Padraig Colman
Rukmini Attygalle writes in her acknowledgements in her debut collection of short stories entitled Of Saris and Grapefruit, “To all those who, in one way or another helped me to: See clearly; Feel deeply; Laugh heartily.”
The first story in the collection is “The Setting Sun”. The story hints at the dark side of tourism. Wimal impressed his contemporaries with his relative wealth. He was fifteen but “seemed older and was the richest young man in our village. Although, most of the time he walked around barefoot, like the rest of us, he did actually possess a pair of shoes.” One can guess how Wimal makes his money and the narrator is soon following the same path. “’You will work for this gentleman today. Do as you are told, and he will give you a good tip.’ Mr. Jinasena nodded at the man, smiled at me, and walked away. “
In “Dawn of Birth and Death”, we see life in the midst of death. From the terrors of tourism, we turn to the terror of the Tigers. “Kusuma, the eldest daughter now heavy with child, sat on a low stool watching her father busying himself with wood, hammer and nails, making a cradle for his soon to be born grandchild. …No one in the family nor anyone in the village, for that matter, possessed a cradle. Somapala had wanted to make something special for the expected child. Although a farmer, he had inherited his father’s love of carpentry. “
The family’s peace is soon disturbed and their modest expectations thwarted. Nearby Kumbukpitiya village had been attacked by the LTTE. Kusuma “instinctively picked up the child, cut the umbilical cord and separated it from the afterbirth. She ripped her underskirt, wrapped the child in it to keep it warm and nestled it against her.” Kusuma knew that Somapala was never going to come back. “As she cradled the child in her arms, Kusuma’s eyes rested on the legacy left to her son by her father – the cradle which was ‘almost finished’ and needed ‘only a bit of sand papering.’ “
We are in a lighter mood with “Money Lender” and “Let-Down”; both stories deal with the narrator’s encounters with a shrewd beggar called Andoris, who plied his trade mainly in and around Colpetty market. He was double-jointed and had the ability to contort his limbs to such an extent that, when it suited him, he could appear horribly deformed. “He never ever verbally claimed that he was in any way disabled. If others thought so – well that was their prerogative! Their undoing too!”
In the afternoons, he went into the market-square to work as a porter and hailer of taxis. “He seemed to change miraculously from the pathetic deformed figure prone to breathing difficulties to a man-of-action. The agility with which he pranced about on his thin stick-like legs never failed to amaze me. Veins bulged out of his upper arms as he lifted heavy shopping bags, and he seemed very much happier doing this than his morning work.”
The narrator’s eccentric relationship with Andoris begins when she is on her way by taxi to a social function and is horrified to find she has not brought any money. She borrows money from the beggar, which, of course, she repays. “What I had given him was much more, very much more than what money could buy. To him, the entire transaction between us was like an exchange of gifts between two friends. Momentarily, he had been the benefactor and I the beggar. And I? I was so glad. Grateful too.”
Her friends and family disapprove of her friendship with a beggar and she allows them to dissuade her from accepting an invitation to the wedding of Andoris’s daughter. “He probably accepted that socially I was considered his superior, but he knew, that we both knew, that on a basic human level we were equal.”
Leela, the central character in the title story, “Of Saris and Grapefruit” is happily settled in London working in a government office. She gets on with her colleagues but does not want to abandon her Sri Lankan identity and is aware that some people might struggle to accept immigrants. “Leela was proud of her national heritage and no amount of pressure subtle or otherwise would change her decision to continue wearing sari. She stood out like a parrot among a flock of grey pigeons.”
There was an initial British froideur but soon the people she worked with became friends as well as colleagues. Mary, however, still exhibited some reserve and continued to hold back. After an embarrassing incident when Leela’s sari fell off in the street at Elephant and Castle, Mary revealed more about her life and character and displayed her true worth as a friend. “She slowly left the room and returned with the British panacea for all stressful situations, a ‘nice-cup-of-tea’, and shyly placed it on Leela’s desk. Leela noticed a motherly gentleness in Mary’s face, that she had not seen before.”
My favourite story in the collection is “Shared Bench”. This is the longest story in the book and it has subtleties and nuances and twists of plot worthy of a novella. Swarnamali was sixteen when her mother died. She stepped into her mother’s role and took on the responsibility of caring for her siblings. Despite her eligibility to go to university, she joined the local Teacher Training College in Kegalle, so she could stay at home and help her father. Later Swarna went to live in London but made frequent holiday visits. This was the first time she had come to Sri Lanka since her husband Mahinda passed away.
Swarna had taught at the village primary school before she married and left Kegalle and memories come back as she now visits the school. She visits the Teacher Training College and thinks about Mr Raymond, her English lecturer, who showed great concern when she tripped and injured her knee. “He was tall, fair and good looking and also approachable with an easy manner and a good sense of humour.”
She was happy to see today that her favourite bench was still there under the kottang tree. “Again, a sharp memory came vividly to mind. She saw herself, of course slim and girlish and different from how she looked now, seated on the bench sketching when Mr. Raymond happened to pass by. He stops and says ‘Hello’. Swarna’s heart misses several beats; she drops her pencil and turns red with embarrassment, or was it pleasure, she now asks herself? He bends down, picks the pencil and hands it to her. Did her fingers touch his?”
Today, the seventy-year-old Swarna saw a figure of an old man shuffling along the sandy path waving a white stick in front of him. He was obviously blind.” As the blind man approached, she noticed his hunch; his balding head sparsely covered with downy white hair, not scraggy but neatly trimmed. His face was almost completely covered with a thick grey beard. His eyes and upper face plus the bridge of his nose were encased in a pair of outsize extra dark sunglasses that ran across from ear to ear.” The blind man, whom Swarna guesses is about ninety, introduces himself as Andaré (after the blind jester) and the two are soon enjoying a good conversation about culture and philosophy. I will not spoil your enjoyment of the twists and turns of the story by saying any more. Please read it.
This collection of eleven short stories displays many clear insights, much deep feeling and also an engaging sense of humour. Some of the stories are bleak, dealing with the horrors of terrorism and tourism. Some stories deal compassionately with marriage, aging, fading memory and mortality. There is also a lighter note of social comedy and acute observation of human interactions. The stories lead the reader on gently with simple, lucid prose that creates a subtle air of mystery.
Of Saris and Grapefruit
is published by Bay Owl Press and is available in all good bookshops at Rs 850.
Features
America stands by its Man!
by Rajan Philips
Donald Trump did not simply win a second presidential election. He crushed Kamala Harris and the top-down electoral coalition that she was hurriedly assembling to overcome what Democrats rhetorically kept defining as an existential threat to American democracy. The American voters have resoundingly sided with the perpetrator of the threat not only in the contested seven swing states, but also in the popular vote across the country. And they ignored all the warnings dramatized by celebrities, meticulously explained by President Clinton in small voter gatherings in swing states, and soaringly articulated across the land by the Obamas – Michelle and Barak, the country’s most eloquent political couple.
Apart from recapturing the presidency, Trump’s Republicans have retaken control of the Senate and seem set to retain their slender majority in the House. In his second coming, Trump could be the Unitarian president that Republicans savour and the petty monarch of all he surveys. That leaves Democrats with plenty of postmortems and soul searching before the midterm elections in two years and the next presidential election in four years. To their relief, Trump will not be on the ballot in 2028.
In fairness, Kamala Harris ran a disciplined and flawless campaign without a single gaffe or scandal allegation. That is quite extraordinary in American political campaigns. That was the verdict of pundits before the vote, but postmortem verdicts will now provide alternative narratives. Her refusal to expediently dissociate herself from President Biden was seen by some as strength of character, but as a fatal error by others.
Incumbency is usually the bane of electoral prospects. This year it has been a particularly unshakable albatross to governments seeking re-election. A somewhat poetic solace, according to comparative election observers, is that of all the losing incumbents in elections this year Kamala Harris has performed best.
As Vice President running to succeed her President, Harris bore the incumbent cross with great forbearance. But the cross proved too heavy a burden as she tried to present herself as the change candidate who would turn the page on ten years of Trump and his politics of chaos and calumny. Instead, the voters settled for Trump as the change candidate and were sold on Trump’s sweeping promises to make life affordable, secure the borders and get rid off immigrants, and magically end the wars in Russia-Ukraine and the Middle East. All of which were attributed to President Biden, and by association to Vice President Harris.
In stark contrast to Harris, Trump’s campaign was characteristically incoherent, undisciplined, vulgar and insulting. Yet his core message on the economy, nativism immigration, and transgender rights struck a chord with American voters regardless of their socioeconomic locations and across racial divides. With his genius for branding and marketing, not to mention electronic communication, Trump kept himself personally engaged with the electorate, ever since he began his political campaign in the 2015 primaries. Beginning with a core group of white voters, Trump has gradually expanded it to include African Americans and immigrants of all hues, especially Latinos. Not to mention South Asians.
It is not a coincidence that his two victories have been against women and his only defeat in between was against a man. In his third and ultimately successful attempt, Trump targeted male voters as men, especially young male voters and across racial divides. He used another divider to slice the electorate. Education. He attracted non-college educated voters more than college-educated voters.
The national average for college education is 40%. The percentage is generally lower in the solid Republican (Red) states which are mostly white, rural and interior; higher in the solid Democrat (Blue) states that are more urban, diverse and coastal; and is around the 40% national average in the seven states that swing between the two parties.
Three of the seven swing states, Michigan, Philadelphia and Wisconsin, are mid-western states that are predominantly white and working class. They are the rust belt repositories of old industries and have historically voted Democrat until Trump came along. The remaining four, Georgia, North Carolina, Arizona and Nevada, are more southern and sunbelt, and include significant proportions of Black and Latino voters. Carter, Clinton and Obama have won all four of them, as well as Florida and Ohio which are now solid Republican states.
The spatial expansion of the Republican electoral base began under Bush (Jr) and his political “Architect” Karl Rove who excelled in micro-targeting voter groups based on their cultural grievances associated with pro-life (anti-abortion) evangelical Christianity, gun rights and gender rights. But the Bushes were never anti-immigrant. The Democrats ceded ground in local politics in Republican states, retreated to protecting the swing states, and turned political questions into judicial battles. Barak Obama bucked this trend in 2008 by bending the arc of history, only for Trump to come along and break it eight years later.
Trump swept all seven of the swing states in 2024 just as he did against Hillary Clinton in 2016. Biden won five of them in 2020. After 2016, Trump packed the Supreme Court with three conservative judges and made similar appointments to other federal courts. Now he has the opportunity to replace two aging Supreme Court judges, the conservative and Catholic Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito, with two younger clones. Biden’s proposals to reform the Supreme Court are now a dead part of his battered legacy.
In the aftermath of their electoral shellacking the great soul searching for Democrats will be about their voting coalitions in the swing states. Hillary Clinton tried to extend Obama’s arc and expanded her support among African Americans and Latinos, but she paid the price for it when the white working class abandoned her in the three midwestern swing states. Four years later, Biden won back sufficiently among white workers in the Midwest to end Trump’s presidency after one term and made new forays in Georgia and Arizona. But he polled proportionately less among Blacks and Latinos.
By the time Kamala Harris came, handicapped to start with after Biden’s tortuously delayed exit, Trump had expanded his support among Blacks and Latinos. He had already energized the white rural voters to vote in much larger numbers than by any Republican candidate before him. Harris’s coalition strategy was to break into traditional white suburban voters who were disaffected by Trump, to compensate for her sliding support among voters of colour and the white working class. In the end, Vice President Harris’s coalition could not hold up against the tide of Trump.
In his election night victory speech, he exulted over the coalition he had cobbled, which now includes, never mind nominally or substantively, “Black voters, women, Hispanics, and Arab and Muslim Americans.” Jews were not mentioned. The media in Israel picked up on the slight, while the country itself was jubilant over Trump’s return. He had warned during the campaign that Jews would “have a lot to do with it” if he were to lose. As much as 67% to 77% percent of the Jewish vote went to Harris, according to exit polls.
“Jewish voters are the only segment of the electorate where Trump did not make meaningful inroads,” claimed Halie Soifer, the CEO of the Jewish Democratic Council of America in a tweet. “Despite unprecedented @GOP efforts to divide us, we voted our values,” he went on. But Harris lost on values and Trump won. Harris lost the crucial Arab American vote in the battleground state of Michigan, and may have lost substantial votes among pro-Palestinian students on university campuses.
Ukraine and Gaza were not top of mind issues for the voters in general. But they were clearly annoyed with the Biden Administration’s insistent bankrolling of the wars in Ukraine and in the Middle East while middle class Americans were struggling with their cost of living. Trump was always boastful that there were no wars anywhere during his four years in office. He is not at all perceptive to realize that his cozying with Netanyahu and the push for Abraham Accords while isolating the Palestinians ultimately led to the October 7 attacks by Hamas. Now he is back in office and has to deal with the aftermaths of his own mistakes and Biden’s failure in the Middle East.
Trump will also have to deal with his personal situation arising from his criminal conviction and pending indictments, while starting his second term after a campaign that was full of outlandish threats and promises. Getting himself out of legal troubles has been the main purpose of his second run and that seems to be getting done quite easily. For all the powers that he is now getting invested with, Trump is very much a lame duck president and the oldest American to become president. What is there to seriously preoccupy him now that he is legally free is the question for the next four years.
Features
The Assassination of Mr Bandaranaike
(Excerpted from Rendering Unto Caesar by Bradman Weerakoon, Secretary to the Prime Minister)
Mr Bandaranaike was to address the UN General Assembly sessions in the first week of October and was to leave for New York on the September 28, the Monday after the weekend. As usual it was necessary to advice the governor-general as to who would act for the prime minister while he was away from the country. On Wednesday, the afternoon of September 24, I met Mr Bandaranaike with the customary pile of papers for signature and orders at his office on the second floor of Parliament.
I inquired of him as to who would act as prime minister during his absence abroad. Without a moment’s hesitation, since he had obviously given it some thought, he said, “Mr Dahanayake, the Minister of Education.” I remember being a little surprised at this as Mr Dahanayake had not acted as prime minister on earlier occasions. The usual practice and tradition was for the Leader of the House to be so appointed. However C P de Silva was ill and out of the country, being treated in London for acute nephritis and, as rumoured by some, for having drunk by mistake at a Cabinet meeting a poisoned chalice of milk. Moreover, Dahanayake was not one of the ministers of the SLFP, having come into the MEP as an MP of the Bhasha Peramuna, a party that had won only a single seat at the elections.
The next afternoon, Thursday, with the letter to the governor general duly prepared in terms of Article 46 (iv) of the Constitution, I saw the prime minister again in his Parliament office. It was the last time I was to see him alive. It seems prophetic now and I recall the incident vividly. As he looked over the letter before putting his long and spidery signature to it, he glanced at the wording of Article 46. It was couched in the usual legal jargon “to act for the prime minister during his absence from the country or temporary incapacitation.” Always quick to seize on the nuances of phraseology his eyes caught the rhythm of “temporary incapacitation” and with a half-smile on his lean face rolled the words around his tongue. It is a memory, which has lived with me since.
As soon as I had his signature on the letter I went to Queen’s House, on the way back to office, and handed the letter over to N W Atukorale who was Sir Oliver Goonetilleke’s official secretary. The next morning as Mr Bandaranaike lay mortally `incapacitated’ at Rosmead Place his home with four revolver bullets in his body, the governor-general had before him in writing, a nominated successor.
That morning, September 25, 1959, had certainly been a black Friday. I was with the trusted Linus Jayewardene, the doyen of confidential stenographers dictating the programme of activities for the prime minister in New York to be printed in the customary Visit booklet. The prime minister’s personal aide at the Rosmead Place residence, D P Amerasinghe telephoned to say that someone had shot “Lokka”.” I still recall Jayewardene’s immediate quite inappropriate reaction, “My Gosh, what now happens to my leave,” as I pushed aside my papers and ran for the car.
There was no time to get an official car or driver (there were only two assigned cars at the time – one for the prime minister and one for the secretary) and so I drove my Fiat 1100 straight to No 65 Rosmead Place. The severely wounded Mr Bandaranaike, with Mrs Bandaranaike who had seen it all happen, had been taken to the General Hospital close by. The three children had gone to school and were being informed.
The front verandah was in a total shambles. What I saw was overturned tables and chairs, scattered papers, blood on the floor, broken glass, a crazy looking monk in dishevelled robes holding his abdomen and moaning on the floor of the hall inside, with a lone constable, a rifle at the ready over him and lots of sobbing people.
There was work to be done so I left, first to the ‘Merchants Ward at the General Hospital where Bandaranaike had been taken. Sir Oliver was already there, and in charge, making sure that the next procedural steps would be initiated. The usual first step of a declaration of emergency was not necessary since the emergency regulations were already in force since the race riots of mid-1958 and the subsequent industrial strife of the first half of the year. Mr Bandaranaike had insisted on a message to the Nation and this was being readied as I arrived at the hospital. The last words Bandaranaike spoke, as he was being prepared for surgery will stand as an immortal testament to the life of a man of extraordinary compassion and nobility:
“A foolish man dressed in the robe of a bhIkku fired some shots at me in my bungalow this morning. I appeal to all concerned to show compassion to this man and not to try to wreak vengeance on him.
I appeal to the people of my country to be restrained and patient at this time. With the assistance of my doctors I shall make every endeavour to be able to continue such services, as I am able to render to my people.
“I appeal to all to be calm, patient and to do nothing that might cause trouble to the people.
To those closely connected to me, to Mrs Bandaranaike and my children, to the members of the government and all my friends and well-wishers, I make a particular appeal to be calm and to face the present situation with courage and fortitude.”
I drove back to the office to prepare for the swearing in of the acting prime minister. Shortly before noon, as Mr Bandaranaike lay at deaths door, having undergone complicated abdominal surgery — a team of five doctors under the expert eye of the eminent surgeon P R Anthonis spent five hours in the operating theatre, the business of government went on. Mr Dahanayake was duly and constitutionally appointed acting prime minister before Sir Oliver Goonetilleke and in the presence of Atukorale, M P Perera, Dahanayake’s private secretary and myself.
Features
Mother and Daughter
Anticipating Kamala Harris winning the US presidency, the original title of my article was The Woman Behind the 47th President of the United States. Most unfortunately and surprisingly to us, Donald Trump won the election. However, defeated Kamala has a couple of achievements to her name. She is the first woman, Black American and South Asian American to be elected Vice President of the US, District Attorney of San Francisco and Attorney General of California. And more importantly she is young, healthy, vibrant and next time around may overcome obvious prejudices in the minds of the American voting public and garner the honour of being first woman president of the US. Four years hence?
The election result was surprising since she had so much going for her, in the sense that her proposed policies were so wide and beneficial to the people of America. “She has worked to bring people together to advance opportunity; deliver for families, particularly the less advantaged; protect fundamental freedoms across the country. She has led the fight for the freedom of women to make decisions about their own bodies; the freedom to live safe from gun violence, to vote; drink clean water and breathe clean air.” She promised reduced-price housing, improvement in education and helping the poorer student. In sharp contrast, Trump’s rhetoric was almost solely on blocking immigration to the US to keep out terrorists, rapists, dog and cat eaters.
Parents of the two candidates
Kamala Harris while campaigning for the presidency almost always spoke of her mother in gratitude for instilling certain qualities in her; we could surmise most being those of perseverance and overcoming prejudices and obstacles. She often narrated anecdotes to show how much she owes her mother who brought her and her sister up as a single parent. She wove her mother’s past into an only-in-America success story but it certainly was not exactly correct since her mother’s life was far from America offering her a welcome, care thereafter and equal opportunity. Her mother has been eulogized as “The greatest influence in her life – the Brown Woman with an accent who left India at 19 and spurned convention to marry a Jamaican and settle down in the US.” All correct but the woman praised having paid a heavy price.
This is so in sharp contrast to Donald Trump and his family since he hardly mentions his parents and never what he owes anyone. His father, Fred Trump (1905-1999), of Irish descent, born in New York was a successful real estate developer. Using his and his wife’s inheritances he founded E. Trump and Son in 1927, which undertook construction of houses in Queens and NY City, barracks etc for US Navy and major shipyards. He was investigated by a US Committee for profiteering in 1954 and again in 1966.
Trump’s mother Mary Anne Macleod (1912-2000) was born in a small village in the Western Isles of Scotland to a fisherman. At 17, with $50 in hand she migrated to the US.
Donald Trump became prez of his father’s business in 1971 and renamed it Trump Organization. Father and son were sued for violating the Fair Housing Act. He borrowed $14 m from his father but said it was one million. Thus lying and felony seem to have been traits of his, inherited and built upon. This is so in contrast to his presidential opponent’s humble beginnings, influence of mother and how both women strove to achieve their ambitions.
The South Indian Mother
Shyamala Gopalan (1938-2009) was the oldest daughter of four children of Indian civil servant Rajam Gopalan who rose from stenographer to higher levels. The longest article I read in the NYT of 28/10 has author, Benjamin Mueller, state that Gopalan was a Tamil Brahmin and diplomat. He did travel and work outside India.
Shyamala schooled in Delhi and then read for a degree in home science at Lady Irvin College, New Delhi. That was a course of study not her choice but followed since no other option was open. Her father too commented she was too intelligent to opt for such a degree to start a career. She applied for scholarships and won a research grant in biomedical science at the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory. In the last year of her teens, in 1958, all alone, she ventured forth to University of California, Berkeley, and took up research in isolating and characterizing progesterone receptor gene in breast and colon cancer. She had with her a $1,600 scholarship and funding from her parents with some of their retirement money. She succeeded in her Master’s programme in nutrition and endocrinology and earned her PhD at UC in 1964, researching on the physiology of cholesterol.
She was expected back in India with her parents busy arranging a suitable marriage for her. She had faced discrimination as a coloured and joined protest groups – Black Movements. One of her co-protestors went on to form the Black Panther Party in 1966. Shyamala met Jamaican Donald Harris in 1962; he reading for his doctorate in economics. They married in 1963. She continued her research but followed her husband when he moved to Illinois and Wisconsin. Their two daughters were born – Kamala Devi in 1964 and Maya Lakshmi in 1967. Maya is now a lawyer, public policy advocate, writer and was up front in Hilary Clinton’s campaign for presidency
The marriage was not going well so Shyamala with the two girls returned to Berkeley. She opted to reside in a cheap flat in a Black community rather than with Asians. “Dr Gopalan wanted to root her daughters in their black identity to prepare them for attacks on their race she could see coming.” Regina Shelton, a black neighbour, ran a day care centre and the girls were left in her charge, even for nights when Shyamala worked late. The split with her husband embittered her and she cut herself and even the two girls from him. He is now Emeritus Professor at Stanford University.
Much has been written about the discrimination she suffered and did not keep quiet about. “There are two people in Shyamala. One all about democracy, disparity and equality and all that. But she also grew up in the caste system.” “In an era when most scientists spoke in whispers about discrimination, Dr Gopalan Harris readily complained to her bosses about the mistreatment of nonwhite workers,” her supervisors at Berkeley commented in the early 2000s. At Berkeley in the early 1970s, she was still often running experiments for her bosses. “She came to feel that American schools were not yet ready to hire a brown woman who dressed for interviews in sari.” American norms to her seemed to demand her to quiet her laugh, swallow her opinions and keep her students at arms’ length; which last was far from how she behaved towards them. She was sympathetic and often helped with advice and even offered a home to an Indian or two who were new in American.
Benjamin Muller in the NYT of 18/10 cites these and many more instances of her outspokenness in his article ‘The Rebellious Scientist who made Kamala Harris.’ He quotes Joe Gray, who fielded Dr Gopalan’s complaints as an administrator at Lawrence Berkeley. “She was not at all shy about calling out things she thought needed to be corrected. She was probably more attuned to inequities in the workplace than was common in those days.”
Her research papers failed to win her the more secure academic positions she craved. The final straw was her supervisor at Berkeley reneging on a promise to give her a faculty position and hiring a white man from Britain. Angered, she pondered on legal action but instead, left Berkeley for a hospital affiliated to McGill University, Montreal, and moved to Canada with her daughters. She was given her own lab space and continued her research on cancer.
She returned to Berkeley and the Lawrence lab continuing her research and seeing her two daughters through college, both alpha students at University of California, Hastings College (Kamala) and Universities of California and Stanford (Maya). She was present when Kamala was sworn in as District Attorney of Los Angeles in 2003 but was ill with an autoimmune disease and later colon cancer. As her daughters progressed in their chosen careers, Shyamala looked after her ‘other kids’ – newly arrived in America research students. She wanted to return to Chennai to die but could not do so. Her end came when she was 70 in 2009, leaving both daughters greatly bereaved, more so Kamala.
Vice President Kamala Harris may be reviewing the recent past. I for one am sure she is not ‘licking the wounds of defeat’ but will be wisely recognizing realities and determining to win next time. As always she will have in mind the strength and will of Shyamala and probably echo what George Washington, Founding Father and first President from 1789 to 1797, said of his mother:
“My mother was the most beautiful woman I ever saw. All I am I owe to my mother. I attribute my success in life to the moral, intellectual and physical education I received from her.”
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