Remembering Roda

My aunt Roda Meherwanji Kateli was in her 90th year when she died on January 15, 2008. She left a void in the hearts of many who came in contact with her. Living alone and not having married she channeled her life to doing good for others. She was introduced to the National Association for the Blind (NAB) in the 1960s and began her work there as a reader for blind students. She went on to become a teacher for the Blind School at Dadar and later at the Worli School for the Blind. In later years she was an honorary helper at the NAB in several capacities.

From 1979 until a few months before her passing she served the revenue unit of NAB, going to their office at Flora Fountain or to various Bombay schools for fund-raising efforts. My aunt would convince the school principals about the worthy cause, instilling in students the values of helping the deserving and those not as fortunate as themselves.

My aunt was a silent worker and did not live for name or fame, always remaining in the background. When NAB conferred on her the Rustom Merwanji Alpaiwalla Memorial Award in 2004 for her outstanding contribution to the welfare of the visually handicapped she seemed fulfilled and grateful to be recognized by the institution she had dedicated her life to. But she never boasted about it, so few of her friends knew of her achievements.

Roda Kateli: NAB’s silent worker

A month after her passing, NAB had its annual function at Yaswant Natya Mandir, Matunga, and I was asked to attend. In the opening speech Gainor Paes, NAB’s finance raising director, read out a eulogy on Roda Kateli, from which I quote a few lines:

"Roda was more than a ‘dear person.’ She was an institution. She worked for the blind every day of her life, since 1963, and proved to us and her colleagues that life begins at 40, and that being 89 years young was no deterrent when it came to her devotion to the cause. Her resilience and perseverance earned her great respect from all... We were privileged to have this good soul in our midst.” At the end of this eulogy, the house observed two minutes’ silence in Roda’s memory.

My aunt spent her leisure time with her family of nieces, nephews and also at her beloved Dadar Parsee Colony Gymkhana to which she walked almost every evening. Saturdays were meant for us. She would visit us, come rain or shine, brushing off any concern we showed in asking her not to use the bus or train because of the risks involved at her age. Whenever we visited her, she would open the door and say "kétlu (how) late,” after which the hours would be filled with stories about her Gymkhana friends or co-workers. She showed us her scrapbooks and photos filled with memories. We fondly called her Rodi, despite her age which she wore so lightly.

She was always cheerful and we don’t ever remember her being sad or upset. "Perhaps, she hid that from us,” said my daughter. "What I will remember was her incredible spirit… She lived life exactly on her own terms; dedicated to her work and her positive can-do attitude. How else, could she travel to Goa at 90 or go to her beloved Gymkhana every other day? In her own mind, of course, she knew age didn’t really matter, and she certainly proved that to all of us. We can all learn something from her.

GOOL B. PAVRI

goolubomi@yahoo.co.in