Nothing short of love, gratitude for Shanti

She came to work for my family in the summer of 1981. I was not yet in my teens and she was in her late teens. She came from a village in West Bengal. Her family had fallen on hard times. After her father’s death, her step brothers had cheated them of their inheritance. From small landowners, they were now domestic helps.

Shanti was a plethora of tales and superstitions. Tales of her life in the village, tales of her wicked step siblings, tales of spirits and ghosts who lived on trees and at night even if you accidently sat under a tree, the spirits would haunt and possess you. She swore it happened to her father. Her tales of superstition got embedded in my brain to the extent that to this day, I don’t cut my finger nails at night so as to not have a disagreement in the family. For a girl who grew up with parents who scoffed at anything that could not be explained by science, Shanti’s stories were fascinating stuff.

Years passed and we all got occupied with the business of living. From a child I grew into a young woman, got married and moved to the United States. She was there for all my milestones, from my 16th birthday to my wedding. When I became a mother, I took the little ones back to India to visit my family. Shanti showered them with love and took good care of them. I was free to go shopping and visit friends knowing my daughters were well taken care of. For them, Shanti didi is family.

For 37 years, she has been with our family. She has taken care of us. She has watched us grow from children to adults and has seen our children grow from babies to young adults. It takes a special kind of dedication to devote your life to taking care of one family other than your own, for four decades. I have often wondered would this kind of dedication exist in today’s generation who live in a very “me first” world.

Today, I received the call that one dreads to receive. Shanti’s kidneys are failing and she may be gone in a matter of days. As I sit across the other end of the world and pray for her recovery, my mind remembers the girl who came from West Bengal and enthralled me with stories. I am filled with nothing short of gratitude and love for the person who shared such a big part of her life with us.

FOR 37 YEARS, SHE HAS BEEN WITH OUR FAMILY. SHE HAS TAKEN CARE OF US. SHE HAS WATCHED US GROW FROM CHILDREN TO ADULTS AND HAS SEEN OUR CHILDREN GROW FROM BABIES TO YOUNG ADULTS