Shantaben Mehta lived in her own world, the one she created over the years, carefully adding and subtracting but never changing its basic fabric. She was an extremely resilient woman who did not let negativity touch her aura. Like any other family, hers too had its share of ups and downs, showdowns, trivial issues blown out of proportion, messed up power equations, hatred, sacrifice, hopelessness; and everything that comes with this list. But none of this could upset her calm demeanour. There was nothing that could stop her from going about her regular routine - daily, seasonal, annual. Not once have I seen her brooding. No, she was not super-human, neither was she a saint. She never really took the assertive steps of ordering around and take on the role of the rule making, punishment giving matriarch. In my opinion, had she done that, things probably would have been smoother and no member of her family would dare to over-step their boundary. But Shantaben was not an autocratic person and perhaps was too optimistic, perhaps even Utopian, in the fast greying world. She never criticised anyone and was fascinatingly unaffected by harsh criticism herself. No matter what was being said, or who said it - Shantaben went on with her life, never looking back; and not even on the sides.
She expressed very little and was also extremely stringent even with positive expressions of affection and humour. But was never unpleasant, never bitter. Her home was open to all but she would not really place a welcome mat outside. And that was because she thought it was understood and done for. She hated to waste, perhaps even words. She never spoke a word more than what was required (according to her).
Shantaben was a million miles away from the stereotypical Indian mother, who cried and cried and sacrificed every cell of her body for her thankless family. Someone who would rather die than witness two of her children severing all ties or someone who would give it all up and live in some ashram before property became an issue of discussion and debate. No, Shantaben was nothing like a Leela Chitnis or a Nirupa Roy!
Shantaben Mehta firmly believed on the principle of self-preservation. She was extremely self-sufficient and needed no help for leading her regular life of shopping, cooking, hosting, satsangs, temple meets, visits, TV dinners and even travel. In the 1990s when she lived alone, there was nothing that was omitted from the above list. She even made all the seasonal and festive delicacies for herself and her neighbours. Attented weddings, went pandal hopping, lead a full life. Her life remained unchanged, unfazed. Her world, untouched.
She expressed very little and was also extremely stringent even with positive expressions of affection and humour. But was never unpleasant, never bitter. Her home was open to all but she would not really place a welcome mat outside. And that was because she thought it was understood and done for. She hated to waste, perhaps even words. She never spoke a word more than what was required (according to her).
Shantaben was a million miles away from the stereotypical Indian mother, who cried and cried and sacrificed every cell of her body for her thankless family. Someone who would rather die than witness two of her children severing all ties or someone who would give it all up and live in some ashram before property became an issue of discussion and debate. No, Shantaben was nothing like a Leela Chitnis or a Nirupa Roy!
Shantaben Mehta firmly believed on the principle of self-preservation. She was extremely self-sufficient and needed no help for leading her regular life of shopping, cooking, hosting, satsangs, temple meets, visits, TV dinners and even travel. In the 1990s when she lived alone, there was nothing that was omitted from the above list. She even made all the seasonal and festive delicacies for herself and her neighbours. Attented weddings, went pandal hopping, lead a full life. Her life remained unchanged, unfazed. Her world, untouched.
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