<p>'Mother is No God: Stories of Love, Memory and Imperfection’, a recent event at the Bangalore International Centre marked the release of the English translation of author Vasudhendra’s celebrated Kannada book ‘Nammamma Andre Nangishta’ as ‘I Love My Amma’. </p><p>It is translated by Narayan Shankaran and published by HarperCollins. The author was in conversation with the translator, and the session was moderated by ecologist and novelist Harini Nagendra. </p>.<p>Memories surfaced vividly. Vasudhendra recalled his mother’s fondness for stainless steel vessels. During post-death rituals, when the crow refused to appear, relatives suggested he assure his late mother that her treasured vessels would be cared for. </p><p>“The crow came,” he recalled, drawing laughter. He remembered his mother returning a coffee filter because its holes were too tiny, only to later ridicule the enlarged holes as being “big enough for me to pass through”. He also spoke of vessels named after actors — an Amitabh Bachchan spoon, for instance.</p>.<p>Vasudhendra insisted the memoir was never meant to glorify motherhood. “She was ordinary, just like me. She would say, ‘Don’t make me a goddess.’”</p>.<p>The essays in the book were written after his mother’s death. </p>.<p>Shankaran spoke about the challenges of translating cultural nuances into English.</p>
<p>'Mother is No God: Stories of Love, Memory and Imperfection’, a recent event at the Bangalore International Centre marked the release of the English translation of author Vasudhendra’s celebrated Kannada book ‘Nammamma Andre Nangishta’ as ‘I Love My Amma’. </p><p>It is translated by Narayan Shankaran and published by HarperCollins. The author was in conversation with the translator, and the session was moderated by ecologist and novelist Harini Nagendra. </p>.<p>Memories surfaced vividly. Vasudhendra recalled his mother’s fondness for stainless steel vessels. During post-death rituals, when the crow refused to appear, relatives suggested he assure his late mother that her treasured vessels would be cared for. </p><p>“The crow came,” he recalled, drawing laughter. He remembered his mother returning a coffee filter because its holes were too tiny, only to later ridicule the enlarged holes as being “big enough for me to pass through”. He also spoke of vessels named after actors — an Amitabh Bachchan spoon, for instance.</p>.<p>Vasudhendra insisted the memoir was never meant to glorify motherhood. “She was ordinary, just like me. She would say, ‘Don’t make me a goddess.’”</p>.<p>The essays in the book were written after his mother’s death. </p>.<p>Shankaran spoke about the challenges of translating cultural nuances into English.</p>