Playing the lead - by Deblina

Being with Tushi (albeit via phone and Whatsapp across continents and time zones) through the weeks leading up to Jethi’s passing have been one of the most emotional journeys I have shared with a friend Loss is never easy; loss never heals; if we are lucky it just transmutes itself to something manageable. But along with trying to be a support to Tushi and retrace some of my own trajectories of loss, this time was also a journey back into our youths, a place of comfort, solidarity and security.

When one is a precocious teenager bursting into womanhood via transient flirtations and badly applied makeup, the world of aunties is a daunting one. They are the people you feel most judged by, the people you don’t want to become and yet whose disapproval can ruffle even the most unruffleable feathers. What I distinctly remember about Jethi is never being one of those older women who sized you up to then later cut you to pieces in gossip with their peers. She was someone you felt safe, comfortable and nourished with. Never mind that your generation, desire and hemlines would never be aligned. For the sake of alliteration let’s just say, Snigdha didn’t snigger at our youthful follies!

I’ve always had an umbilical cord to Sirsha’s family. In varying direct and roundabout ways this cord has taken me to the acting stage, to my career and even to my husband. To think of Tushi and her folks, it easy to always think of Jethu, Tushi and Srija first. They are a trio of strong and striking personalities, each particularly brilliant and brilliantly particular in their own ways. Jethi was always a gentle reassuring afterthought, happy to let these starbursts of the family shine as they sped by towards their thespianism, their careers, their wanderlust. The memories of Jethi in comparison are gentle and unassuming. Her smile, her wonderfully intonated singsong voice, her cooking, and above all her all-encompassing mum-ness. If any of this would lead anyone to think of Jethi as a meek pushover they couldn’t be further from the truth. Her strength was the old-fashioned one. And her life is a testimony to grace. The grace that let Jethu apply his greasepaint and stride onto stage with his monologues while she sipped chai in the green room. The grace that let her daughters fly to different corners of the world to fulfil their dreams while she sat in Bombay mapping their journeys with gentle pride. In her effortless grace she became the glue that held all this brilliance and energy together and made it family.

Jethu is undoubtedly the thespian in the family but it’s Jethi who taught us that the most memorable roles are not necessarily the lead ones.

Bhalo theko Jethi, abar dakha hobey. In Tushi’s cooking, and Srija’s smile and Jethu’s warmth.