‘When in doubt, ask Maama’ has been my mantra in life. Whether it was an indecisiveness about how much sugar to put into the Bajiya mix, the need to recall a historical moment or what home remedy to go for when you feel nauseous, I always ran to Maama.

I remember 2 months or so ago when I came across a conundrum. I had bought a pound or two of beef and I wanted to prepare Beef Rendang with a packet of readymade sauce that I bought. Easy enough, I had thought. But I had no idea how to tenderise beef. I often saw Maama busy as a bee, cutting the beef and mixing in some sort of concoction followed by the house being aromatised with the flavourful smell of cooked beef. But I had absolutely no clue of how she did. I remember standing near the doorway  of her room and telling her that I had come across a strife and that I needed her help. Her signature chuckle was followed by a set of instructions on how to cut, marinate and cook beef. ‘How much beef did you buy?’, she chuckled. I told her that it must have been half a kilo or so. She chuckled again and proceeded to instruct me.

‘Gerimahun rangalhah sarubee filuvan vaane. Varah undhagu vaane sarubee filuvan ekamaku varah rangalhah filuvanvaane. Dhen beynun varakah valhin gerimas thah kudhi kuraanee. Dhen nimuneema reethikoh dhonnaathi hurihaa mas buri thakeh. Rangalhah ley filuvan vaane ingey? Dhen lunboa falhiakaa, chis koffa huri lonumedhaa inguraa, kuda lonu kolhakaa 2 kuda samsaluge baking soda alhaigen ekkolaanee. Dhen ekkaireega bahattaafa migeyga inna bodu math jehi theli hoadhaa. Dhen madu gineega eyah laigen kakkaalaa. Fen alhaakah nujeheyne. Eyge thereyga hunna fenthah nukumegen amillayah kekeyne. Samsalakun ekkohlan vaane ingey. Ehennoonee fuluga hifaane. Fen hindhuneema eheree maduvefa. Maa undhaguleh noonennu?’

‘Make sure you take the beef and remove all the fat. It’s a laborious task but it’s very important that you remove the fat very carefully. You can do this while you cut the beef pieces to a size that you prefer.  After you’re done cutting the beef, wash it thoroughly and clean all the blood. Then, you take some lime, some crushed garlic and ginger, some salt to taste and two teaspoons of baking soda. Mix it well and leave aside for a little while. Take the large pot with the lid and put everything into it and set to low heat and cook. You wouldn’t need to add water because all the moisture inside the beef will come out and cook itself. But make sure you mix it it with a spoon once in a while, okay? Once all the water dries up, your beef has tenderised. Not too difficult no?’

Half an hour later I had a pot of tenderised, aromatic and flavourful beef. And I remember telling her that she was spot-on and that the smell of the cooked beef induced much nostalgia of her making us her signature beef curry. She chuckled and went on to say that tenderising beef was never such a difficult task and that I just needed a little patience. As always, Maama was my go-to person for every such thing. And perhaps in saying that she taught me her last lesson about life. That nothing was too difficult, and that you just needed a little patience to sort things out.

I was text-messaging a friend today and pondered upon a similar and familiar uncertainty that I needed her to clarify urgently. I needed Maama to confirm the background of a mutual friend and I knew she’d chuckle and say, ‘Aan. Eiee Eydhafushee kujjennu‘ or something. ‘When in doubt, ask Maama’. So I instinctively got up from my seat and headed out from my room. I even visualised Maama on her bed, wiggling her toes and blowing up a balloon through a straw to exercise her lungs. Maama always knew everything and she had magical powers of recall.

And it hit me. Mercilessly and where it hurt the most. I froze in my footsteps.

Maama passed away. She’s gone. She’d dead.

My go-to person for answers about life, the universe and everything is no more.