4th May 2018
As I stared at Dadis body shrouded in a piece of simple white cloth, there was only one thought that came to mind. Death is final. It is a journey that every soul will taste. It is a journey that many have embarked on but never returned to share the experience. As her soul left her body,Mrs Zubeida Mehtar lost her identity and was then referred to as 'the body'. All around me there were people crying, each one reminiscing on their interactions with ma. I was having flashbacks on the quality time we all spent together 2 weeks ago at our home. Ma would wait for us to return from work. Whilst we had dinner she and mom would enjoy a bowel of popcorn at the fire place. Mom went out of her way to make Dadis favourite foods.As I introspect on all our conversations we had I realise that she knew she was leaving this world for a better place. One Friday morning it was just the two of us at home. Mom and dad had to rush off to Cape Town to attend mom's uncles funeral. Before leaving mom gave me clear instructions as to how Dadi wanted her breakfast. First she would have a fruit, followed by a bowel of oats and then tea and rusks. Dadi loved her tea and it had to be served in a very big mug. She had this habit of squeezing her tea bags with a spoon making sure that the tea bag wouldn't go to waste. I guess she developed these habits due to her difficult upbringing. I'm not a breakfast person but Ma insisted that I join her for a cup of tea. I toasted a hot cross bun and obliged. Whilst chatting to her she poured out words of wisdom. She was insistent that I make an appointment with our in house beautician at Medix stressing on the importance of cleanliness. She said that life is so short tomorrow we can have an accident or pass away and other people would handle our bodies. She was very self conscious. I am so blessed that she spent an entire day with me at work. My staff were happy to have her and went out of their way to give her the respect she deserved. One of my male colleagues tried greeting Dadi with a hand shake. She refused stating, " Does the queen of England shake hands with strangers?..No right.. well I'm a queen too".. She was witty and straight forward too. She never kept anything inside her heart. Mom was the luckiest for being able to spend the entire day with her. They even went out shopping together and enjoyed a sumptuous lunch at a seafood restaurant. She loved mom's cooking and mom knew exactly how to prepare her meals. Due to the ulcers she had all her meals were prepared with no chillis and no ginger garlic masala. The only spices that she tolerated was turmeric, salt and jeera..Mom and her got along well as they both meticulous and fussy wanting everything to be packed in its place. Dadi loved fresh bedding every second day.I will always treasure the late night conversations we shared. She took me back in time as we travelled from 1933 until 2018. She had a remarkable memory. She remembered events as though it was yesterday. Dadi ma arrived in SA on the 8th of July 1940. She was 7 yrs old. She was born in Kathore in India and was very proud of her Indian roots, language and culture. In fact she was very annoyed that todays youth can not speak or understand their mother language. Her dad came to SA in search of work. Once he found a stable job he returned to India to bring his family over. World war 2 was about to commence and hence the ship they boarded from India was over booked with passengers. They landed up sitting on benches for three weeks as the cabins were fully occupied and double booked. It was after all the last ship to leave India. As soon as they arrived world war 2 began..Her family had to hang up dark blankets on the house windows so that the enemy can not see any light.Curfews were put into place and she always recalled just how traumatic her initial years in SA were. Dadi married Dada in 1978..Dad's biological mother passed away a year earlier and so dads father decided to remarry. It was Dadis second marriage as well. Her first husband passed away after 2.5 years of marriage due to illness. Dad's father Hafez Abdullah Mehtar was a well known personality as he was the principal at the school at Mias Farm. Through mutual friends Dada sent a proposal to Dadis family in Asherville asking for her hand in marriage. Dadi made me laugh when she said that a few family members and friends told her, " Zubeida you are a Randeree.You have a cook and driver in your papas house so how will you marry into the mehtar family that is so big with no cook." She discussed this with Dada who replied, " Yeh muqaddar ki baat hai.".. It's a matter of destiny. Dadi married Dada and walked into a huge family.Dada had 7 sons and 2 daughters. Dadi always recalled how she had to cook in huge pots everyday. Apart from cooking for her new family she also took care of students and teachers residing at the hostel. She had no kids of her own yet she was a mother to many. I must acknowledge that Dadi was a really good cook. Dadi also became a motherly figure to her sisters children. For a brief period of time her sister was ill and so Dada and Dadi brought the kids over from Durban to reside with them. She had a special relationship and bond with her nephews and nieces. She only spoke to them in Gujurati and took care of them as though they were her own kids.As a child I was closer to nani than dadi but as I grew older I developed a bond with her as well..I loved giving her a hearing. Being in her company was like being in the presence of a walking encyclopedia. There was still so much I wanted to ask her, there was still so much I wanted to say to her. Treasure your loved ones especially the elderly. Old people don't want your money, all they desire is a plate of food coupled with love and care. Give them a hearing and keep them happy.. May Allah grant Dadi the highest stages in jannah and fill her grave with lots of light.How fortunate she is to depart this world on a mubarak blessed night. An 85 year legacy has come to an end but will definitely not be forgotten...Please remember her in your prayers.....
