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.”

Spouses of diplomats talk about their experiences in different countries across the world

 

Captions: The cover; President John F Kennedy; Hope Cooke with her husband, the Chogyal, ruler of Sikkim 

Delhi-based journalist Reshmi Ray Dasgupta wrote that when her mother Gayatri was posted to Berlin, she wanted to buy a cushion (kissen in German). But she inadvertently said, kussen (which means kissing). The shop assistant didn't waste a moment. He immediately landed a peck on her cheek, leaving Gayatri completely embarrassed.

In Cape Town, Gayatri entered a shop with a group of people which included one white woman. The salesman said that he would only serve the white woman. The white woman was outraged and the group walked out of the shop. ‘It was Ma’s “Gandhi-ji at Pietermaritzburg” moment,’ wrote Reshmi. ‘She resolutely shunned everything South African until apartheid ended 34 years later.’

Gayatri was in Washington when Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru made his third visit. At a White House gala, she was admiring the paintings on the wall when there was a tap on her shoulder.

When she turned, a man said, “Hello, my name is John. What’s yours?”

“Gayatri Ray,” was the reply.

“Ray? You’re Bengali!” the man said.

“How did you know I am Bengali?” she said.

“Ray…like Satyajit Ray, right? So, you’re Bengali!”

Apparently, a few months earlier John F Kennedy, the president of the United States, had watched Ray’s Apur Sansar.

The ruler of Sikkim, Chogyal got married to an American woman, Hope Cooke (Sikkimese name: Gyalmo). As a result, the American festival Halloween was celebrated in Sikkim because of her influence.

Sudhir Devare was the First Secretary of the Political Office. His wife Hema wrote that one night, as they settled in for the night, there was a loud thud at the door.

The servant Tulsi opened the door.

When Sudhir entered the drawing room, he saw a group of youths banging drums. Leading them was the Chogyal’s wife Gyalmo. Soon, Sudhir and Gyalmo started dancing. When Hema appeared in the drawing room, Gyalmo put Hema’s hand in her husband’s.

‘She left as suddenly as she had arrived, leaving both of us speechless,’ wrote Hema. ‘The next day the episode was the talk of the town.’

In 1980, Prem Budhwar was appointed as Ambassador of Ethiopia. His wife Kusum said that when they arrived, they received a shock when they discovered that the Ethiopian calendar consisted of 13 months. The 13th month consisted of five or six days in the leap year. The year began on September 12 and not on January 1.

Prem told the foreign minister that when he was in college he had an Ethiopian classmate by the name of Tessima Ibido who came to study on a Government of India scholarship. To Prem’s shock, and happiness, the Foreign Minister said that Tessima had just retired as deputy finance minister.

Kusum wrote, ‘Within a couple of days Tessima called and came over to our home. What a warm meeting it was between the friends! The clock stood still as they reminisced about the happy days of their youth spent together in Shimla.’

All these heart-warming anecdotes have been recounted in the book, The Other Side of Diplomacy, edited by Jayshree Misra Tripathi. The writing style is simple and clear. So, in effect it is an easy read. The stories are from the viewpoints of spouses of career diplomats who have served in Indian missions abroad.

However, as former diplomat Shashi Tharoor mentioned in the foreword, in the Women in Diplomacy Index 2022, brought out by the Anwar Gargash Diplomatic Academy, UAE, India ranked 26 in a list of 40 countries and the European Union.

‘About 16.9 percent of the ambassadorial positions in the [Indian] missions have been held by women,’ wrote Tharoor.

In this book of 16 essays, only two are by male spouses. Here’s hoping the gender imbalance will be corrected in future.

The stories are from countries as varied as Tajikistan, Ethiopia, China, Brazil, Switzerland, Austria, Zimbabwe, Russia and the Korean Peninsula.

While it may sound glamorous and exciting, in many places, the living conditions were rudimentary, and life was difficult.

When Anuradha Muthukumar went to Tajikistan, in the 1990s, she was told by the members of the mission that the central heating system in most homes ‘had either broken down or lacked the fuel or energy to keep them going. Civil war had devastated the economy, rendering repair or maintenance of utility services nearly impossible. There was almost no public transport.’

And nearly all the women had to sacrifice their careers so that they could be with their spouses. Now, perhaps, with remote work, it may be possible to work, no matter where the posting is.

The disruption to family life could be heart-breaking. Children have to adjust to a new education system, new language, and new classmates. And the process of adjustment can be traumatising.

Once somebody said, to one of the daughters of spouse Anita Sapra, ‘All this moving around must have been exciting.’

She replied, ‘I will never put my children through what our parents subjected us to.’ While this remark hurt Anita, she understood the sentiments behind it.

Shreedevi Nair Pal wrote that once the Head of the Chancery came up to her and told her the allowance for a national day reception would not cover professional caterers.

‘So, there we were, my cook and I, making monstrous amounts of kebabs, chicken tikkas and samosas for about five hundred people,’ wrote Shreedevi.

She confirmed that spouses dealt with the ordinary people like the plumber, electrician and the baker, while their husbands, ‘mainly interacted with the social and political elite of the country they were posted in. And regardless of where they were posted, they never really had to step out of their comfort zone, as their work environment was more or less the same.’

For the spouse, to be able to communicate when the language was a foreign one, can be difficult and stressful, too. Of course, there were compensations, too. You met the most brilliant and accomplished people of the country. You saw the stunning tourist sites. This was always an enriching experience for the family.

And there were funny moments, too.

Once, in Baghdad, Shreedevi presented a beautifully wrapped gift to her husband, Satyabrata, on his birthday.

‘I will never forget the look on his face and the laughter that followed when he opened his gift,’ she wrote. ‘It was a hammer; the only thing that was available at Orodibaag, the government shop. Suffice to say it is still in use.’

Asiya Hamid Rao, while in Vienna, got a few party tips from another spouse, Mrs Menon of the Indian diplomatic corps:

a. Strike a balance between gravy and dry items.

b. Ensure the dishes are of different colours: green, yellow, brown, white and multicoloured.

c. Never lose sight of people’s religious sensitivities; hence, never serve food that is taboo for religious reasons.

d. It’s a good idea to ask your guests beforehand about any dietary restrictions.

When Anita Sapra was in Seoul, she took a taxi. When the driver came to know she was from India, he started singing a song from Haathi Mere Saathi.

‘What a rare sight to behold,’ she wrote. ‘Me in a taxi on the streets of Seoul singing a song in my own language. Later on, I learnt that Haathi Mere Saathi was a popular film in Korea in 1975. It was renamed Holy Elephant and many children thronged to watch it in theatres.’

However, tension always remained as perennial background music. It rose a hundred fold when a Prime Minister or a President came visiting. The pressure that nothing should go wrong during the trip could take an emotional and psychological toll on both husband and wife.

Or as Sharmila Kantha wrote, ‘I have accompanied first ladies during their state visits to India, sat through amateurish but enthusiastic community functions, stood for hours in heels to greet nearly a thousand guests at our national day receptions, attended numerous national day receptions of other countries, where I smiled inanely at people.’

Added Jayshree Misra Tripathi, ‘My heart used to beat a hundred times faster, as each Independence Day and Republic Day approached, hoping the chosen menu would suit everyone from back home – north south, east, west, northeast and northwest too – all fellow Indians. They always came first.’

The book gives us an insight into the difficult lives of spouses in foreign missions. There is an endless amount of adjustments to be done. With a busy husband, most of the time the wife has to tackle things on her own. She also has to handle the burden of the children’s stresses almost single-handedly as they try to adjust to life in a new country. What strikes the reader is the personal and job sacrifices these women have made, so that their husbands could have successful careers.

In the end, they were heroines in their own way.

(Published in kitaab.org, Singapore)