FATE and Faith two sides of the same coin

Jai Mata Di”
The whole crowd chanted in unison. I was at a Mata ki Chowki and felt oddly at peace. I
sang along with everyone. The Jagran singer was most enthusiastic and his passion was
resonated by the pious crowd around me. I owed a lot to divinity and every cell in my body
felt grateful to God that evening.
A few months had passed since the acid attack scare. I had filed a complaint with the Bandra police. Miraculously, the call never came back. I lived under a dark cloud of fear and anxiety for the weeks that followed. I was scared while leaving for work, I was scared to send my children to school, I was scared while walking on the street, I was scared all the time.
Who would want to do such a horrible thing to me and my children and why? We never found out. That time
passed too. Another major landmark event occurred in our lives. I had to push my elder son to travel overseas into the real world. He had finished his BCom and turned twenty years of age. He
was not interested in studying any further. My brother was in the process of starting a new
business in China and he needed someone reliable and preferably from the family to look
after it. I had a few discussions with my father, brother and son. And so it was decided that
my son would work with my brother – it was a very good opportunity. As a parent, I had
mixed feelings but I knew it was for the best, as I did not have anything much to offer him here. My freshly graduated son departed for China.We all cried for days and consoled ourselves that this was the best for his future. Once he landed in China with my brother, he was very unsettled and he moped a lot and wanted to return. But with a rock on my heart, I put my foot down and pushed him strictly to make his life there, to
at least give it a few years. He agreed. Life was very tough on him but he is a survivor and
he managed. Things felt like they were falling in place. Finally, in our new home and on our own, my family and I felt at peace. Life had resumed regular flow and I had re-built a social circle in Bombay.
My youngest son was in the care of a very reliable young maid. She was sweet and soft- spoken. As a single parent, I had learned to rely on house help.
I suddenly snapped out of my reverie at the Mata ki Chowki . My phone was ringing and I saw my home number flashing on it. What might it be, I wondered as I answered the phone. I heard my 12-year-old son bawling in shock and trauma. My heart stopped beating when I realised what he had just said.
“I am coming right away!”
I got up and raced out of the hall. My younger son had just informed me that our maidservant had committed suicide in our home. My little one was alone with her then. I ran back home, making several calls on my way. My brother who lived two lanes away, dashed to my house upon hearing the news. The police had to be informed as well. Luckily the maid had left a note (which the police found near her body) apologising
for taking this step in our house.
My son was traumatized by this; I had to take him for counselling for some time. It took us a few months to get over the trauma. We kept a havan at home to help us erase those memories. That year was full of incidents. Two months later, a short circuit in our house caused a fire at midnight. We had to call the fire brigade.

We stayed at my brother’s house for a week as the wiring in my house had to be changed. I
left my job and my then boss did a stop payment on my salary cheque. Those few months
were very tough, but somehow with God’s blessings, we pulled through.
Amid all this chaos, the litigation over the family property continued. We yet had 20 looms
(machines) in my husband’s factory in Surat that had to be sold. I used to go to Surat periodically for court cases and also to talk to buyers about these machines as they were losing their value over the years. On one of those trips, I got lucky. Diamond Jubilee Bank
where I had a joint account with my mother-in-law, which had been frozen by my father-in- law, had declared bankruptcy and had shut down a couple of years ago. I was in Surat when my husband’s
friend – who had been helping me all this while – called me to his office and told me the bank
had opened for some time to pay people their dues. He told me to run to the bank and check
as it was a 10-minute walk from there.
I took a sharp breath and entered the bank, walking straight towards the manager’s office. He got up and called my name. I was surprised that he recognised me. It had been over three years since I had a showdown with him after my father-in-law had frozen my account.
The manager called me by name and asked me to take my money. He even apologized to me for his wrongdoing. He told me that in the last three years he had really suffered a lot, having been transferred to a small village and facing a lot of problems. He made a cheque of 80% of the amount in my name again apologised and joint his hands and handed over the cheque. I was so happy I took the cheque and returned to the friend’s office. It was summer
season, the month of May, and the sun was bearing down on my head. I had a throbbing
headache.
I entered his air-conditioned office and sat down grinning from ear to ear and waving the cheque at him. He told me not to sit down, instead, he asked me to take an autorickshaw and run to the bank to deposit the cheque. I implored him that my head was bursting and I desperately needed a cup of tea, but he was unyielding. He asked his staff to get a rickshaw
for me and sent me running to the bank. I reached the bank which was far away, on the other side of town in the residential area,
deposited the cheque, and went straight to another friend’s house where I was staying.
Lucky for me that he was strict and pushed me to deposit the cheque there and then as the
next morning the papers announced that the bank had shut down again. My cheque, I
guess, had been the last to be cleared. I realised God was helping my family and me. When
He shuts one door He opens another.
Sometime later the looms found a buyer who quoted Rs. 16000/- per machine at that time. I spoke to my brother-in-law and he too agreed to this price. I took a day’s leave from work and travelled to Surat for the sale. Once again, when the buyer was dismantling the
machines my father-in-law and mother-in-law came and stopped them. History repeated itself. They took me to the police station saying they did not agree to this price and wanted Rs. 17000/- per machine.
We had a long argument at the police station and my husband’s friends were all there to
help me. Some were standing at the door of the police station and some were leaning against the window. The inspector too got a little fed up with this and he requested me to

return to Bombay and try for the price they were asking. I told him that I could not run up and down so often. I had a job that I could not afford to lose, and nor could I lose another day’s salary.
Finally after two hours of arguments, I took a decision and asked the inspector if it was ok I would sell the machines for Rs. 16000 each. However, their 20%, amounted to a total of 4 machines for which I was willing to give them Rs. 17,000 per machine. They agreed. I heaved a sigh of relief, got the machines dismantled and delivered, gave my mother-in-law Rs 17000/- per machine for her 4 machines, took the night train and
left for Mumbai. I reached home by 5.00 am freshened up and left for my work.
The case with the relative too was going on. He then went to High Court in Ahmedabad and filed for a stay order on my property in Surat. He wanted this stay on my property against the 3,50,000/- that he claimed my husband owed him. I travelled to Ahmedabad to
hire a lawyer which was a big drain on my finances. Finally, on the date of the hearing, I went to the High Court and was amazed to see it was very beautiful like a hotel, centrally airconditioned and what not. The judge walked in just like in Bollywood films – he was
wearing a red robe and was accompanied by an orderly who announced his name before he
could enter. I was awestruck. My husband’s relative quickly approached me in my seat and
whispered offering me to settle with him for Rs 5 lakhs, as I would surely lose the case here.
Somehow I stuck to my ground and refused. Our case came on the bench and just as the opposite side’s lawyer started to speak the judge sternly told him, “You don’t need to tell me anything, I have read the case and come. What do you think you are doing, just for Rs. 3,50,000/- you are asking for a stay on a property worth a few crores?
No way! Your appeal is rejected.”
I could not believe it! I was stunned. In 2 minutes the judge had given his judgement. I was
overjoyed. Once again my faith in God stood steady.
So far I had not transferred my husband’s property in our names. My lawyer suggested I do the needful. I visited the city survey office in Surat and went to the concerned department.
By this time I had become a little street smart and learned the ways of the world. I spoke very nicely to the staff there, got a little friendly to them and asked them to change the names on the property papers. I requested them to put five names, my mother-in-law, three children and my name, as per the Hindu Succession Act.

The city survey staff refused, saying they could only put the wife and children’s names. I explained to them about the law and that they have to add my mother-in-law’s name, but they wouldn’t budge. I called my lawyer as I was scared that if I didn’t add my mother-in-law’s name they would again fight with me and send me a legal notice. My lawyer advised me to go ahead and make the changes in the children
and my name. He said they would face the consequences later.
Oh My God !! I was unaware of how this would work in my favour. My faith in God grew more
and more. I returned to Mumbai a little apprehensive and kept waiting for some reaction from
my in-laws, but lucky for me they never got to know of this change as they did not believe in paying any of my late husband’s liabilities. So they never saw the property tax papers that I had been paying for all these years.
My elder son settled well in China in the next few years. He now started liking the place, but

was unhappy with my brother who was paying him a pittance. My brother’s son had joined
him in China as well, so he was facing a lot of favouritism.
He visited India to be with us for 15 days. Here we went to my brother’s house and spoke to
him alone in the room asking him for a raise which my brother refused. So then my son told
him he would like to stop working for my brother and start something small on his own. My
brother was ok with this, he joked and we left on a good note.
The next morning all hell broke loose. My brother called me, he was very angry and was
shouting on the phone. I pacified him and we met in my sister’s house. Me, my son and
brother-in-law sat on this issue. My brother was very angry, suddenly I don’t know what happened to change his mind. Anyway, after a lot of discussions, we parted amicably. My father could not join in this discussion as he was unwell.
My son returned to China and my father gave him Rs 2,00,000/- to start afresh there. My son before returning to china met a few people here in the market ,who were kind-hearted and sympathetic towards him
as he had maintained good relations with them. They gave him the confidence to start in
China again assuring him that they would stand by him and take goods from him. My son
struggled a lot at first, living frugally, but managed to sustain himself eventually. His business
finally started picking up. Can you believe it then fate intervened and his partner in Mumbai
got shot in the terrorist attack on 26/11! It was a very sad moment. Our hearts went out to his
family as we knew how difficult life gets when you lose a spouse or a parent. Also, we were worried for my son, but with God’s grace, his business kept growing slowly and steadily.
My brother got to know of this and he called me to my parents’ house in Malabar hill for a meeting.
My father was ill and could not get out of bed. We had the meeting in the other room, my brother, my mother and myself. He raved and ranted, abusing me and my son, calling us low cheap names and coming close to me threateningly. Suddenly there was a resounding thud. With the impact of the slap, I fell back, losing my balance.