ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE ... AND GOOD GENES Sometimes the Universe conspires to tell a story and this is exactly how our familys story got told...sensitively and factually over many cups of tea and breakfast with the super savvy Anupama Bijur...she gave me the biggest compliment by saying that the love and bonding between Imi and me and Alisha and Adnan shows up beautifully and has now extended to the (soon to be) newest entrant to our house Anees...this is a tribute to my parents and my family from both sides...thank you Anupama and you are now an official part of our hakuna matata! --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- MY MOTHER HAD A FATWA ON HER HEAD TILL SHE DIED - RUBI CHAKRAVARTI, Bangalore. (FEMINA Magazine, VOLUME 55, NUMBER 24 NOVEMBER 2014) The generation before ours rebelled and created a way of life that has had a cascading effect. Its important we take note of that since there is so much insularity in our world today. My mother, Ayesha, was the daughter of Sir Sikandar Hayat Khan, a well-know statesman from Punjab. She saw my father, Brigadier Brahma Mohan Chakravarti, for the first time when she was in a school play. She was 16 ad he was 25. He had accompanied the governor as his ADC(an officer who serves as a personal assistant to top-ranked officers) to her school. Their eyes met as he walked back with the governor. She thought if he turned around and looked at her before sitting in the car, he was as taken in by her as she was with him. And he did. Their romance was met with a lot of opposition from my mothers family since my father was a Bengali Brahmin. My mother was sent off to England as punishment. But my father, determined as he was, arranged a posting to England. They were married at India House in 1947 and later returned to India because my mother wanted to come back home. My mother had a fatwa on her head till she died. One of her uncles ordered that her head and my fathers head should be brought to him on a platter. We never had any contact with my mothers family which is why Imis (my husband Imtiaz Sharafali Furniturewala) sisters and brother are like my extended family. Initially my fathers parents did not welcome my mother into the family. It was 1947 and both sides were just getting over the horrors of the partition. My father was the eldest son and heir to the familys fortunes and his choice of a Pathan wife didnt go down well with my grandparents. My paternal grandfather (Dadu) was the first to thaw. He was an educated man and was more broad-minded than others in the family. My mother learned to read and write in Bengali and soon she was writing to her mother-in-law too. Finally I think it was my grandparents love for their son that made them accept my mother. When my dadu died, my father thought it best not to take my mother to the funeral as it could create tension. But my dadi specifically asked for her to join them knowing she was close to my grandfather. When there were rumours in the neighbourhood that most of the Hindu neighbours were planning to boycott the bhog on the 12th day because of the presence of a Muslim daughter-in-law, my dadi took a stand and said that her daughter-in-law would not just be present, but also serve food to the guests. And if no one turned up, she would feed the dogs. Not a single neighbour stayed away. My mother called herself Asha out of her love for my father just as I have named my children Adnan and Alisha out of love for my husband. Imis mother, Munawar Sultana, the yesteryear heroine, was a Punjabi Muslim who married a Bohri Muslim. My mother-in-law was an only daughter and was brought up by a single mother. Imis dad died when he was just 10 and my mother-in-law raised her four children single-handedly. In Imis family too, they were taught to respect other faiths. Imis brother and sisters are married to an American, a Saraswat Brahmin and a Malaylee respectively. When I got married and moved to Imis house, we were 18 and 19. The only reason my parents opposed the marriage was because we were too young. While doing my prayers in Imis house, we would improvise. When I did the Diwali pooja, Imis family would sing Om Jai Jagadish Hare reading the lyrics from sheets of paper. Once during Lakshmi Pooja, my mother-in-law took me aside and told me that since she had just returned from Haj, she would not be able to bow her heard before the idols but she would join us in the room. However, if it upsets me she had no problems in joining her hands in prayer. Just that sentiment filled me with so much respect for her. None of us is defined by our religion. My daughter Alishas boyfriend, Anees belongs to a half-Muslin half-Christian family. He says grace at the table and observes the Muslim faith too. We were always taught to have strong value systems and respect people. Let me give you an example. When we decided to get a new car, my son Adnan told the car dealer that he could give us the car on October 4, which was Dussehra or the next day on Eid. If we have to choose a religion in this house, it would be cricket or food. We believe love supersedes everything. Do I believe in God? Yes, Do I believe in religion? No. If somethings working for you, why give it a name? --Rubi Chakravarti is an actor, model and stand-up comic. As told to Anupama Bijur.
Posted on: Tue, 28 Oct 2014 06:20:37 +0000
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