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Remembering a friend - Aneesha Wadhwa

 

My first memory of Aneesha is an email I received from her a month before we were to depart for Oxford. It was a group mail asking for mugshot and brief profile which could be shared with the group. I responded. Much to my surprise, I quickly received a follow up mail asking me about what I had studied at St Stephens’ – the same college she had been to although a good 6-7 years before me. I attributed this special interest to the common alma mater we shared. It was only later in Oxford I realised that that was not the case. She took a keen interest to know each and every one of us in the cohort and outside – by investing a bit of time – little by little with everyone. It was this particular characteristic which made her like the common binding glue – cutting across personalities, and glossing over the laughable differences we often sparred over every now and then.

We were meant to be on the same train to Oxford but couldn’t spot each other. It was only at the entrance of Pembroke College where we finally walked into one another. Viji was also there. Her warmth came across in a wide smile. I knew immediately here was someone I would be able to get along with immediately. As time went by I was proven right at every time. For a large part of our stay many of us would gather at 30-A Union street – a most favourable adda for most of us. It was the centre of activity, discussion, action and obviously drama. Once after I had taken up the customary tea offered by her I was washing my mug when she noticed and told me to let her do it. I refused and told her I was almost done with it. I went on to say that I would not do this in India if I was to visit her house. She smiled and immediately announced, “Rohan is such a nice boy. He washes his own mug.” This is just one example of how sensitive and perceptive she was to behaviour.

As we settled down in the first fortnight and we all got to know each other a bit, I came to know what she did. Her area of work stood out. Two things I realised were on top of her mind. Her ‘girls’ – the children who grew up outside their homes and were taken under their wings by Udayan Care, Aneesha’s NGO. The second thing was her son – an independent minded 11-year-old who was a keen football player. She also told me how Pankaj, her husband, had sold off the family business to get into development work in Uttarakhand. She told me in great detail about the football camp in Spain to which they had taken their son. I was 34 and a government employee and found somethings she said totally fascinating. I would keep asking her about how they made the decision to flog the family business and retire into the hills. She told me, “We knew we require a certain amount. We worked that out and then once you are clear it’s not so difficult.” Those words still ring in my ears when I remember her.    

Some of most standout memories were on our driving holiday around the Isle of Skye. She took the lead in making the bookings. There were eight people on the trip and as we were to realise – it was a handful for achieving consensus. I don’t recall the details but there were the ‘ayes’ and the ‘nays’ on almost every issue. (I am smiling as I write this WHOLE paragraph fellow cohort members) As we drove and communicated between the two vehicles one issue was about the “Distillery tour” – with the which, how and when oscillating from one end to the other. As the shrill increased – I remember this distinctly since I was driving and phone went around from one person to the other – Aneesha sat silently, tapping and swiping on the phone. A minute later, I think she called up the brewery and booked the tour – that too at only 10 pounds per head. The decision taken we all walked into the Oban distillery glad that somebody had made the decision for us. She also played a key role in arriving at a final decision on the modus operandi of the grand farewell party – insuring every person’s concerns get addressed. She recognised group and individual dynamics very well and knew how to get along with different personalities. (Heavyweight Political advisors, bureaucrats, corporate honchos, legal bigwigs, central bankers and Doctors – all included)

We all came to the fellowship with our own set of goals. If I could point to one, for me it was travel and taking a clear physical and mental break from my life of the past 8-10 years. For some their work carried on and it was great networking opportunity. Aneesha not only put her best foot forward in the classroom and outside but had a deep sense of doing well. I remember how she insisted on us preparing for the debate over a sushi dinner. I also recall her feeling low after our group presentation with Andrew. Pankaj and I had tried to downplay it though I am not too sure we succeeded. Things came a full circle for her after her final presentation which was greatly appreciated. She told me she felt redeemed. Now when I look back I realise that Oxford gave her the clarity to take up a full time job upon her return. In the classrooms she made a special effort to not only interact but also keep in touch with the speakers. She also told me about her time at St Stephens’. I could sense a touch of regret when she told me that she would go to college and return right back home. She had not really involved herself much in college activities and felt that she should have been more involved. Oxford was a great opportunity for her to make up for it and she did precisely that.

One of the standout memories of our times spent together were walking around Paris – talking about the state of affairs in India, our families, important decisions in our lives and the type of upbringing we had had. She was candid in admitting to me that she felt her upbringing had been too anglicised or rather too divorced from her surroundings.  As an example she told me that she had eaten western food on a daily basis while growing up which was rather out of place growing up in Delhi. Such an observation and acceptance of one’s own past is not something for the faint hearted. In my experience most people don’t think so much about such issues but here was a person in an almost constant state of reflection and learning.

The only time I met her post Oxford was in March 2019 at the Chevening get together in Delhi. Six of us went to Khan market for dinner where the Delhi folk – ably led by Aneesha treated Viji, Amit and me. She told me she had joined as Executive Director at Udayan Care. She was happy about the role and had a good financial package. Things seem to be working well – at least it seemed to me. We spoke during the lockdown when she needed some help with a movement pass from Uttarakhand. I last spoke to her a few days before my Fulbright interview in September where we recollected some of the sessions we had in those unforgettable three months. She told me that as much it was late for her to apply for the Fulbright she would experience it vicariously through me. I could feel the genuineness in what she said.

The WhatsApp message on 4th January stunned me just like everyone else. That evening I was going through some pictures and videos of our Oxford sojourn. I came across a video shot at Niest Point at the Isle of Skye on a super gray day. With the iconic light house in the background we seem to be in a really serious conversation. At one point she says, with her characteristic blue spectacle frame standing out in the greyness around, “Life is too short…” and then she continues, “For me being able to travel is not an issue but what is really a big deal for me is to be in Oxford and to be able to spend an entire weekend in the Library and have the freedom to think – very important to me! No reason to do it for anyone else…”  

We all know life is short. We all go through our hard times – as Aneesha probably was having too in the last 3-4 months. She was a friend with whom one spent some great times and shared some great memories. Such is life. People come into your life for short blissful periods and then they are gone. All that is left are memories. Memories which bring back memories that bring back you, Aneesha. RIP.

 

 

   

 

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