A Shining Star

 

Captions: Published by Penguin India; Author Sanghamitra Chakraborty; Soumitra Chatterjee as Apu; the memory card scene in Aranyer Din Ratri

In this absorbing biography, Sanghamitra Chakraborty traces the life and career of Soumitra Chatterjee, one of Bengal’s greatest actors

By Shevlin Sebastian

Early in the book, ‘Soumitra Chatterjee and His World’, author Sanghamitra Chakraborty recounts a memory of the actor when he was six years old.

One day, because he was sick, Soumitra could not go to school. His elder brother Sambit returned from school earlier than scheduled. Their mother, Ashalata, asked Sambit the reason why.

Here is how Soumitra remembered that moment:

“Rabindranath Tagore is dead, so our headmaster announced a holiday,” Dada said flatly.

‘When I heard this, I knew Tagore must be a great man. Why else would they announce a holiday? That was my only response then — I hadn’t matured enough to react to the tragedy, but I noticed that my mother’s world was shaken. Ma couldn’t keep standing — she held onto the railing and sat down slowly.’

Ashalata was an ardent admirer of Tagore. Like his mother, later in life, Soumitra worshipped Tagore as a sage, prophet, great artist and social reformer.

An ardent bibliophile, Soumitra read Pather Panchali by Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay when he was a teenager. Later, he wrote, ‘I had no idea then that playing the role of the grown-up Apu [protagonist of Pather Panchali] would be the birth of my acting career.’

During his studies at the CMS St. John’s School in Krishnanagar, Soumitra took part in plays and elocution contests. In Class Five, he played the prince in Sleeping Beauty.

‘People in the audience gave away awards to young actors then,’ he wrote. ‘I was thrilled to receive medals at that age. Perhaps an obsession with acting later took hold of me thanks to those medals. Who knows?’

But it was not always an idyllic life. He saw some tragedies first-hand. During the Bengal Famine of 1943, in which 30 lakh people died, Soumitra recalled the unbearable stench of dead bodies piling up on the streets in Krishnanagar.

One day, a starving man took shelter in a courtyard next door. Soumitra used to take rotis from his dinner and give it to him. One night, he could not do so. He wrote, ‘Next morning, I found the man dead — a bag of bones covered in skin heaped in one corner. His misshapen metal bowl had a few morsels of food left in it.’

It would leave a permanent scar on his heart.

As he grew up and got a job at All India Radio, he was always keen to embark on an acting career. His life changed when, one day, while recuperating at home from chicken pox, Satyajit Ray’s assistant Subir Hazra told him the maestro wanted to meet him.

When Soumitra stepped into Ray’s house, the latter said, ‘There you are, please come in. But everything seems fine. I don’t see any marks on your face! Someone was saying you had developed pockmarks. This is nothing. It should be fine.’

The result: Soumitra was cast as the lead in Apur Sansar. Soumitra began preparing and remembered the advice given by theatre guru Sisir Bhaduri. As author Sanghamitra writes, as an actor he had to interrogate the script ‘like a detective’, read carefully between the lines, look for clues to recreate in his mind the unexpressed bits of the story or character and peel away the top layers to unearth what was beneath.

Apur Sansar became a hit and launched the career of Soumitra.

The New York Times critic Bosley Crowther wrote, ‘In the role of Apu, Soumitra Chatterjee is timid, tender, sad, serene, superb. He is the perfect extension of Apu as a man.’

Sanghamitra delves at length into the relationship between Soumitra and Satyajit Ray, which changed the young actor’s life completely.

Ray’s son Sandip spoke about the ‘instant chemistry’ between his father and Soumitra. ‘Even before Baba spoke, Soumitra Kaku knew what he wanted,’ said Sandip. ‘You rarely see this kind of understanding between a director and an actor.’

Sanghamitra dwells at length on one of Ray’s greatest films, Charulata (1964) and the roles played by Soumitra and Madhabi Mukherjee.

In the end, Soumitra and Ray worked in many films together, including Kapurush, Aranyer Din Ratri, and Asani Sanket. ‘The fun in working with him [Ray] was that he gave you immense freedom,’ said Soumitra. ‘And when you took the initiative, he would come up with a suggestion that would take it to the next level.’

The praise was mutual. Once Ray said, ‘Out of my 27 [28] films, he has acted the lead role in 14. This makes it obvious how much I trust him and how highly I regard him as an actor. I know I will depend on him until the last day of my life as an artist.’

Interestingly, in the famous memory card game scene in Aranyer Din Ratri, Ray placed the camera in the middle of the group that sat in a circle on a sheet on a ground in Palamau. The actors included Soumitra Chatterjee, Sharmila Tagore, Kaberi Bose, Subhendu Chatterjee, Samit Bhanja, and Robi Ghosh.

As Sanghamitra writes, ‘Though his close-ups, with the roving camera, paused on each face, Ray superbly captured their mental landscape and the emerging group dynamics.’ Later, Sharmila said that it was so hot the shooting had to be completed within an hour.

This tie-up of Soumitra with Ray lasted from 1959 to 1992, when Ray passed away on April 23, at the age of 70.

What impressed Ray and the crew members was how meticulously Soumitra prepared for each shot.

‘He always arrived on time and came well prepared,’ said Sandip. ‘For example, he would make a note of the number of shirt buttons he had left unbuttoned from the last time [for continuity]. His discipline was remarkable.’ In the end, Chatterjee acted in over 300 films in a 60-year career.

Sanghamitra also focuses on other films. It was interesting to note that in Teen Bhubaner Pare (1969), there was a song called Jibone Ki Pabona in which Soumitra did the twist in an elegant style.

The YouTube video was a pleasure to watch and the catchy tune and the lively singing by Manna Dey felt dynamic and uplifting. It is a song that still sounds good. And there have been many covers of it over the years.

This is an absorbing book. Undoubtedly, a lot of research has been done. Sanghamitra interviewed around 75 people, apart from family members.

What was a blow to the author was the star’s unexpected death because of lung complications from Covid on November 15, 2020, at the age of 85. So Sanghamitra could not talk to the star, but his copious autobiographical writings provided a lot of information.

This book is a valuable addition to the literature of film. For fans of Soumitra, this is a must-read.

Actor Sharmila Tagore wrote in the foreword, ‘Soumitra had his reasons to avoid Bombay, of course, but Indian audiences are the poorer for it.’ So, for film lovers in other parts of India and the world who are not aware of this titan, this book will be a revelation.

A shorter version was published in The Sunday Magazine, New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

A photo with Guneet Monga

With the effervescent film producer Guneet Monga at the Dhanam Business Summit at Kochi.

At age 21, Guneet went from Delhi to Mumbai to try her luck in films. In less than 20 years, she is an Oscar winning producer of 'The Elephant Whisperers'.

She continues to have an ongoing stellar career.

Please note the elephant symbol on her saree, made by a Malayali designer.

Photo by Anoop Abraham

A Sardarji who speaks fluent Malayalam

 

Captions: Mohinder Singh; The outside of the restaurant; Maharaja's Chicken dish

Mohinder Singh, part-owner of the ‘Sethi Da Dhaba’, put out a reel in Malayalam celebrating the 10th anniversary of the restaurant. The reel went viral and brought focus to the restaurant and the family 

By Shevlin Sebastian 

To celebrate the 10th anniversary of his restaurant, ‘Sethi Da Dhaba’ in Kochi, Mohinder Singh put out a reel. In it, he tells the story, in Malayalam, about how the restaurant began and the type of food that is served. 

Mohinder said that they don’t use ajinomoto, colours, harmful chemicals, palm oil or groundnuts. “The food should be healthy, apart from being tasty,” he said, and added, “The most popular cuisine among Malayalis is Punjabi.”

To Mohinder’s surprise, the video went viral. It boosted the restaurant’s visibility and drew new customers. The biggest shock for viewers was to see a Punjabi speak Malayalam fluently. 

Malayalis worldwide, from the USA to Australia, called him and expressed their shock and admiration for his linguistic skills. One man said, “It feels like a dream.” 

Mohinder said his fluency in Malayalam happened by accident. As a child, he was mischievous. Many schools expelled him because of his indiscipline. In the end, he landed up at St. Albert’s School. The students comprised local Malayalis, who were more fluent in the vernacular language than English. So Mohinder learned to speak Malayalam like a native. 

At the restaurant, Mohinder confirmed that 90 percent of his customers are Malayalis. “We have earned the trust of customers,” he said. 

Mohinder paused and said, “We are doing this as a tribute to our mother. We want to make her happy. Hence, we are determined to provide the highest quality of food. That way, we will receive the blessings of our parents.”   

The genesis of the restaurant 

In 2013, Mohinder’s mother, Satwant Kaur, a foodie, almost lost her life because of a cardiac ailment. When she recovered, she told her sons that she had a dream. They should start a restaurant in Kochi that serves authentic Punjabi dishes. Her husband was in the automobile business. None of the four sons knew anything about the restaurant business. 

On the morning of January 1, 2014, Satwant told Mohinder she was feeling unwell and needed to go to the hospital. 

Mohinder, who was celebrating New Year’s Day, said, “Mother, there’s nothing to worry about. You are fine.” 

That night, the 72-year-old died of a heart attack in front of Mohinder. Guilt crushed him. He had been looking after his parents for 25 years. So, this lapse became unforgivable. After reflection, he decided he would try meditation or exercise. He adopted weightlifting and did it for a few hours every day. 

Every month he would go to Hazur Sahib, one of five takhts (religious centres in Sikhism. The shrine is located in Nanded, Maharashtra. 

It took him five years to overcome his sorrow. “I have to thank my family for their steadfast support,” he said. “Weightlifting also helped me.” 

During this time, Mohinder made a promise to himself. He would fulfill his mother’s dream. 

On February 24, 2015, Mohinder, along with his brother Manjit, started the ‘Sethi Da Dhaba’ restaurant in Kochi. 

At that time, Punjabi cuisine was not in the forefront of the cuisine palate of Malayalis. Many were sceptical about whether the venture would be a success. Mohinder tried to increase their chances by bringing cooks from North India. Initially, there was only a trickle of customers. But the brothers never gave up. Slowly, through word of mouth, the restaurant’s name spread. Today, ‘Sethi Da Dhaba’ is one of the leading eating places for Punjabi cuisine in Kochi.  

The Menu

On a bustling Monday afternoon, the restaurant boasted a crowd of varying ages. On one side sat a senior citizen, savouring a plate of chicken seekh kebab and crisp parathas. In the middle were two career professionals, wearing ties and crisp white shirts sharing a meal. And on the other side, there was a middle-aged woman with two children in tow. Mohinder had a radiant smile, as he moved between the tables, chatting with the guests. 

On the walls, there are typewriters hanging, and paintings of farmers, trees and cows. A jeep bonnet and tyres sit in an enclosure, while an old radio with black knobs rests on a glass shelf. In one corner, one can see a green and white Bajaj Chetak scooter. Placed near the entrance is a photo of the Golden Temple. 

“My brother Manjit has a passion for collecting antiques,” said Mohinder. 

The yellow ceiling lights cast a cosy warmth, while the aroma of tandoor-cooked dishes set the taste buds in motion.   

In the reel, Mohinder spoke about a new dish called Maharaja’s Chicken. This dish was served to Maharaja Ranjit Singh (1780-1839) by his head chef, or khansama, Beliram. He was regarded as the best cook of that era. 

A few months ago, when Mohinder and his family went to Patiala, they met a fifth-generation descendant of Beliram. They had a conversation and got the recipe for the dish. 

The chef marinates and grills the chicken in the tandoor for 25 minutes. Then, he cooks it in oil with fried onions, curd, and gravy, along with ghee. The cooks prepare the dish as a semi-gravy. “We introduced this about a month ago,” said Mohinder. “It’s become very popular.” 

One of their most popular items is the Patiala Lassi. They serve it in a one-litre glass. It comprises curd, cardamom powder, sugar, pieces of almonds and pistachios. The taste is exceptional. 

Other items include Chicken Malai Tikka, Mutton Seekh Kabab, Amritsari Fish, Dal Makhana and assorted rotis and parathas.  

Asked about the cooking methods, Mohinder said that they follow the traditional way. So when they make a dal, they keep the pulses in the tandoor (a large oven made of clay) the previous night. They let it simmer, on a low flame, till the morning. For mutton, they use goat, not sheep, which is what most restaurants serve. 

Asked the secret of good cooking, Mohinder said, “Whatever you do, do it from the heart. Your intention should be pure. When you do things from the heart, you get blessings, appreciation, and peace of mind. The mind is always manipulative. In the service sector, if you use only the mind, you cannot survive.”

Mohinder said their aim was that when anybody came into the restaurant, they should leave with a smile. 

The reviews on Trip Advisor have been good. Patron Varun Kodoth wrote: ‘Very delicious food. The food tastes awesome. We had Paneer Tikka Masala, Roti and Naan. Everything was perfect. The staff were truly helpful. Don’t forget to try the sweet Lassi.’ 

Nita A wrote: ‘Truly Punjabi. The taste, aroma, and ambience was complimented very well by Mohinderji who was an excellent host.’ 

Many people wanted to take a franchisee, but the brothers are unsure whether the restaurateurs could maintain the Dhaba’s high standards. 

“The problem with the restaurant sector is that people cut costs and end up compromising on quality,” said Mohinder. 

While Manjit oversees the kitchen, Mohinder is the one who interacts with the customers. On average he interacts with 5000 people every week. 

Mohinder admitted that constantly coming into contact with the positive and negative energies of people is difficult. “People’s facial expressions and behaviour reflect the tensions in their lives,” he said.

Every night, before he goes to sleep, he does heartfulness meditation. “In this meditation, I can cleanse my emotions and purify myself,” said Mohinder. “When your heart is pure, you attract positive energy.” Mohinder advises every entrepreneur to follow the spiritual path. 

Asked about the mindset of the Malayali, Mohinder said, “Once you gain the trust of a Malayali, he will always believe you. Sometimes, customers will tell me, ‘Sardarji, we are six people. You know how much quantity we will need. Bring what you like.’”    

Mohinder ensures he brings a little less, so all the food is eaten. “You should not take their trust for granted,” he said. 

Sometimes, there are humorous interactions. One film director said that in the two Mollywood superhits, ‘Punjabi House,’ and ‘Mallu Singh,’ Malayali actors played the role of Punjabis. “They were ‘duplicate’ Sardarjis,” the director said. “Now we want to put an authentic Sardarji like you in a film when there is a Punjabi character.”

The director and Mohinder shared a laugh. 

Thanks to their integrity and wholesomeness, today, the family has a sterling reputation. But this reputation was first established by their father, Harbansji Singh Sethi. 

Family Roots  

Mohinder’s father, Harbansji, an IAS officer, was a senior officer of the Food Corporation of India at Chandigarh. One day, in 1964, Pachakari Mohammed, a prominent iron dealer from Kochi, met Harbansji in his office. They developed a rapport. Mohammed invited Harbansji to come to Kerala for a visit. In 1965, Harbansji took up the offer and came to Kochi. “My father liked Kerala a lot with its greenery and peaceful environment,” said Mohinder. 

Kochi was also a burgeoning hub for trade.  

Harbansji had an itch to go into business. His father had been an entrepreneur all his life. Mohammed encouraged Harbansji. He gave Harbansji an apartment for the family to stay. He took no rent for the next two years. And he provided logistical and other support, too. 

Harbansji took medical leave. He started a business in automobile parts called ‘Bombay Auto Agency’. There was a struggle in the beginning, but soon it took off. So Harbansji quit the IAS.

The family comprised his wife, four sons, and a daughter.  

In 2006, Harbansji died at the age of 74. The shop is being run by the eldest son, Surinder. The youngest son Gurjeet is also running a spare parts shop. 

As for Mohinder, he is married to Pawanjit Kaur, from Hyderabad. He has two sons, Sunny and Bunny. Sunny, 24, has settled in Toronto. Bunny is assisting his father in the restaurant. 

All in all, it has been a good life for Mohinder. He is a man who deeply enjoys his work, and loves the interactions with a wide variety of people. 

At the ‘Sethi Da Dhaba’, amidst the clatter of steel plates, Mohinder leaned forward and gently placed his fingers on the glass frame of the Golden Temple photo. 

“God has been kind,” he said.

Box: 

We are one 

In many states people are agitating that their language should become the primary one. Mohinder Singh said, “All languages are beautiful. We should respect them all. It reflects the cultural diversity of the country. And the more languages one learns, the more enriched we become.”

He paused and said, “Kerala is a beacon in this regard. The people respect our Punjabi language and culture. And vice versa. This is a state that welcomes all Indians with an open heart and kind words. All states should be like this. In the end, we are Indians irrespective of whether we are Punjabi, Gujarati, Bengali, Malayali or Tamilian. I am the best example of this integration.”

 (Published in Rediff.com)

https://www.rediff.com/.../the-sardar-who.../20250620.htm

A session on true crime

 

Happy to do an interview on the Harper Broadcast Channel on World Book Day last month with Rasheed Kidwai and Prakash Patra, authors of the book, 'The Scam That Shook A Nation -- The Nagarwala Scandal' and crime writer Kulpreet Yadav, whose book, 'Dial 100', is about to be released

Here is the YouTube Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlfuxU-xFU4

A write-up on my great grandfather, Ninan Xavier

By Shevlin Sebastian

Last week, I had gone to pay condolences at the home of my cousin Thomas Job, who passed away at the age of 73 in Nadeckepadam, near Changanacherry.

High up on the wall of the living room I saw a painting.

This was of my great grandfather Ninan Xavier (1862-1948).

The painting was done in 1926. Which meant, he was 64 years old.

My late uncle Kurian Sebastian, who had a deep knowledge of family history, once wrote about Ninan.

Here are some points from the article:

Ninan was married to a woman called Achamma who belonged to Allapuzha. However, 22 days after she gave birth to a son, in 1887, she died.

Thereafter, Ninan married a lady called Thresiamma.

They had six children: one son and five daughters.

Ninan loved agriculture. He was the first to plant rubber trees in Madappally village, 100 kms from Cochin. This became a financial success.

The rubber was sent to the Swiss trading firm, Volkart Brothers in Cochin. Their Cochin branch was established in 1859.

Ninan ordered bottles of Plymouth gin and cigars from Volkart Brothers. This was delivered by boat, which was the primary form of transportation in those times.

Ninan was also the pioneer of sericulture (silkworm breeding). The Director of Agriculture made frequent visits to check on the crop. The Diwan also made a visit.

Silkworm breeding became a success.

Later, Ninan became a contractor and built several major roads in the district.

No surprises then that he bought and owned a lot of land.

In 1927, Ninan contested from the Changanacherry/Peerumade constituency. He won the election and became a member of the Sree Moolam Assembly.

Ten years later, his son-in-law PJ Sebastian won from the same constituency.

Kurian Sebastian mentioned that when traders would go at 4 am on bullock carts towards the market in Changanacherry, they would sing the praises of Ninan when they went past his house.

Ninan died on January 25.

My son was born on January 25.

Is it coincidence or reincarnation?

Who can say?

Life is a mystery.

Meeta Shah’s Journey After the 2006 Mumbai Bombings

Photo: Meeta Shah (right) with Esha

On July 11, 2006, Meeta Shah’s husband, Tushit, 44, died in the Mumbai rail blasts.

In Part 1, published in ‘The Hindustan Times’ on July 16, 2006, Meeta spoke about the immense loss that she felt, and described the chaotic hospital search for the body of her husband, and the gut-wrenching days that followed.

Here are the links:

https://www.linkedin.com/.../2006-bomb-blasts-railway...

In Part 2, she talks about the ensuing years. She describes how she struggled from deep despair to a place today where she has experienced gratitude, a measure of happiness and a spiritual awakening.

By Shevlin Sebastian

On July 11, 2006, seven bomb blasts devastated the suburban rail network in Mumbai. It resulted in 189 deaths and over 700 injured. According to the Mumbai Police, the terror outfit Lashkar-e-Taiba orchestrated it along with Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence.

One victim was Tushit Shah, 44.

As the city struggled to rebuild and heal, Tushit’s wife, Meeta, 44, struggled to come to terms with her own trauma.

Immediately after her husband’s death, Meeta realised she had to keep her emotions under control. That was because both her parents were heart patients.

“I was told not to cry in front of them to avoid further health complications,” she said in an interview a few days ago.

One day, Meeta heard Tushit’s voice saying, “Meeta, Meeta! Please accept it. I am not there. Please take care of Esha.”

So, Meeta placed Esha on her lap telling her, “Don’t worry dear, I am here. Nothing will happen.”

Esha’s nervous system would become stiff and freeze (pre-epileptic stiffness). This occurred a few times before they took Tushit’s body for cremation. Esha was 16 years old.

Meeta suffered from the guilt that she was not there when Tushit breathed his last. Nor did she attend the cremation. “I told myself that I had to take care of my little one now,” she said. “Esha clung to me the entire night and did not want to leave me for a moment as well.”

After two months, Esha started travelling on the trains again. She always carried her father’s mobile phones with her. Somehow, one by one, she lost them.

Meeta said, “Esha, Papa wants us to free him and move on, beta.”

But despite saying this, Meeta would always look out for him.

“Somehow, it took time for me to accept that he was not there,” she said. “So, from the bus I would look out for him in the crowd coming out of the station hoping to get a glimpse, or wait for the sound of his bike.”

There were no bike sounds. Instead, for the next ten years, till 2016, Meeta suffered from nightmares. There were times she would awaken in the middle of the night, gripped by grief, and taking quick breaths, as if she was asthmatic. Through it all, Meeta was always aware of Tushit’s energies around her, especially when she crossed the rail tracks to go over to the eastern part of the town.

Sometimes, Meeta received miraculous replies and answers.

Once, Esha and Meeta were returning from the bank after closing Tushit’s account.

It was raining.

Esha asked whether she could play the radio in the car.

“Yes, of course,” said Meeta.

While driving, Meeta lost herself in her thoughts.

She whispered, “Tushit, where are you? Please talk to me and tell me where you are.”

Suddenly, the song, ‘Mein yahan tu kahan...... zindagi hai kahan? (Where am I? Where are you? And where is the world?)’ sung by Bollywood superstar Amitabh Bachchan and playback singer Alka Yagnik came on the air.

Oh, Tushit replied, concluded Meeta. This is not a coincidence.

Meeta stopped the car by the side of the road, got out, took a deep breath, and tried to quieten her racing heart. People only die physically, she realised. They are alive in another dimension.

Esha said, through the car window, “Mama, should I change the station?”

Meeta said, “No need, dear. It’s Papa telling me something.”

For Meeta, the song was so meaningful, as she released the clutch and pressed the accelerator.

Suddenly, she remembered their nicknames for each other.

Tushit used to call Meeta her Rekha [Bollywood actress] because of her dark complexion. Meeta would call him Amitabh [Bachchan], as he was tall, with a similar French beard and hairstyle.

One month later, when Esha had left to attend classes at the Patkar Varde College in Goregaon, and her mother had returned to her home, Meeta was alone for the first time in her house.

That was when Meeta took her bolster pillow and placed it in the same place where Tushit was last laid in the house. “Cradling it, I cried my heart out,” said Meeta. “I released a lot of my pain that day. I had to do it as it was all stuck inside my mind, body and soul.”

Though that moment eased her pain, Meeta discovered as the days went by, nothing could fill the void in her heart.

She said, “I lost the best person in my life, the family breadwinner, my life support system, my finance manager, my positive half, my soulmate, my child’s father, my best non-judgemental and accepting counsellor, a smiling and helpful soul, and so much more!”

Reflecting on their 21-year marriage, Meeta remembered she would often ask Tushit why he agreed to marry her.

“I am dark,” she told him. “In matrimonial ads, families seek fair and lovely girls.”

He replied, “Meeta, I was looking for someone I could gel with and have the same mental wavelength. I was also looking for somebody who was honest and smart. I was not looking for a fair girl.”

Meeta said, “I am grateful to the Lord that Tushit said yes. And I had the most wonderful relationship with my husband.”

In 2009, Meeta got a job as a psychologist and counsellor at the Narsee Monjee Institute of Management Studies, Mumbai.

She worked there for 12 years.

By 2010, as she settled into her career, Meeta experienced a spiritual metamorphosis.

For a long time, she had been angry at the Universal Energy for taking Tushit away so suddenly.

“I believe in karma,” she said. “For every action, there will be a reaction. I know nature will respond to those who have killed innocent lives as it returns what you give to the universe.”

Drawing on her religious beliefs, Meeta said, “I often feel sadness for people filled with angst and hatred. They have not seen love. I pray the Almighty gives love to all. And I also accept that God took Tushit away for a reason, which I will never understand.”

Meeta tried to get married, but somehow it didn’t work out. “There is nobody to match Tushit,” she said.

Her parents took it in their stride.

Her husband’s uncle led a branch of the Vinoba Bhave ashram, a spiritual community dedicated to non-violence and service. So, it was no surprise when he offered support by drawing on his philosophy of empathy.

He told her, “If you decide not to be in a relationship, I will not ask why. We trust you. We are with you. However, don’t stop searching. It’s important to have a life partner.”

As for Esha, she got a degree in biotech from the DY Patil College School Of Biotechnology And Bioinformatics. Simultaneously, she completed her diploma in patent law. Thereafter, she started applying abroad for her master’s degree in cancer research.

She got admission to an esteemed Australian university on a full ‘live-in expense’ scholarship.

Today, Esha has a PhD in cancer cell and molecular biology. She is working on managing projects for clinical trials. And is happily married too.

“I have a son-in-law who takes great care of her, and me,” said Meeta. “What more can I ask for?”

Meeta’s journey from grief to gratitude will make Tushit happy. At 63, it has brought her to a place of inner calm and tranquility. And her turnaround will inspire many who have faced similar tragedies.

“Eventually, despite many attacks on our spirit, love always wins,” she said. “That’s what Tushit showed me with the way he led his life.”