She is a Bengali by birth but she loves Jaipur. She sings Rabindra Sangeet, enjoys Durga Puja but is equally at home with the customs of Rajasthan and the urbanity of Delhi. She is an avid traveller and has visited almost all continents of the world. Author, critic and poet Malashri Lal’s life journey has been a symphony of change and she has revelled in all the challenges that have come her way.

Though today she is known across the world as an eminent author, Malashri Lal is still a simple Jaipur girl who loves coming back to her roots every now and then. She loves the city and its people that make her feel right at home. Though Delhi is where her hearth is, Jaipur is where her heart is. Excerpts from a free wheeling tet-e-tat with this Jaipurite:

You studied in Jaipur, then you went to Delhi. What was your experience like?
I continue to believe that my home is in Jaipur. Though my blood lineage is Bengali but I identify Jaipur as my home. I have been here since childhood. Even though Delhi has been a happy relocation for personal reasons and work, Jaipur still retains as much of a loved pull, almost like a Maika (parent’s home) despite my parents not having been there for years. The city, the friends, the people all of them being very special for me.

When you moved from Jaipur to Delhi, what was the change like?
The first thing I noticed about Delhi was that it was very impersonal space. When I moved to Delhi after my marriage, we were living with my in-laws. So there was no sense of loneliness or non-belonging at home but the city didn’t seem like a friendly place. So, I didn’t know my way around in Delhi so since I was keen to teach, I started looking at jobs in Delhi. This was early 70s so there were jobs a plenty. All the big colleges were advertising, now ofcourse I know them by name but at the time I didn’t know any of these colleges. So to find my way to a place in old Delhi from where we were (my father-in-law was Air Chief Marshal P C Lal, so we were staying at the air house) seems like such a scary thing to do, unknown roads, unknown people, rough language on the roads, auto drivers who drove rashly. I came from a protected environment at home and in a very affectionate social environment of Jaipur, so the contrast of this impersonal, immigrant city, where survival seemed to be the most important ambition in anyone’s life seemed very strange indeed. So, I did go around, I had to deal with it. I was very lucky that I got a job offer from Jesus and Mary College, the day I went there for an interview. I found JMC a remarkably hospitable and warm place. I still remember it was a hot summer afternoon. I had no idea where JMC was (it was in the middle of Chanakyapuri). The auto rickshaw driver also had no idea where JMC was. When I got there, I was late for the interview and I thought I had already ruined it. It was a beautiful building with a lovely garden. I walked up the steps and there was this old nun, dressed in white standing there with a smile. She said, ‘Welcome my dear.’ I apologized and said, ‘sorry sister. I am late.’ She said, ‘it doesn’t matter. You are not late. You are here and that is what matters. She brought me a glass of water. She sat me down and told me to not to get tensed about anything. So I sat there for half an hour till I was called for the interview and enjoyed the sense of warmth and affection even though I didn’t know the people there.
And when I went in for the interview, everyone was courteous and gentle. I came out of there saying praying and promising to myself that if they offered me a job, I would take it. Some well known colleges of Delhi University (I don’t want to name them offered me a job and those offers came later also but the day JMC called me that evening or the next morning and asked me if I would be willing to work for them, I said yes. I stayed there for twelve years and I was very happy there. And JMC was a cocoon. Some of my best friends are from JMC even now though I just spent 12 years out of my 45 years of teaching. Then I moved to the main department of English in the post graduate wing. But the contrast was the affectionate, warm, personalized world in which I had grown up in Jaipur and the rather rough impersonal and I would even say brash world of Delhi.

You have seen Jaipur and Delhi changing over the years. How do you find the change in both these cities?
I don’t think Delhi has changed very much. It has just become bigger, more impersonal, more brash, more materialistic. I don’t think it has changed at all. It is a city of immigrants and I have understood it better. There are no affections and I believe there is a sense of suspicion of the stranger. So, whether you live in an apartment building or a neighbourhood, people have not friendly because they have no idea who you are and where you come from. Jaipur on the other hand has also grown a lot but my Jaipur is still the Jaipur of my school friends. I meet people through them so I don’t have a sense of strangeness or non-belonging at all. And even physically I have nothing to do with the Jaipur that goes beyond the older areas of Civil Lines or C-Scheme and Bapu Nagar, Tilak Nagar or the University because all my friends and their friends and their children continue to have a long-term relationship.

How was your time in MGD? What were you like as a student?
MGD was most wonderful thing that happened to me. When I was very young, I was not a very healthy child. So, I was constantly in and out of school till the age of 7. My paternal grandmother who was a widow and lived with us. She used to teach me at home. Her name was Jyotirmaye Mukherjee. She was a school teacher in Burma. My grandparents had emigrated to Burma which was a part of undivided India at that time. My grandfather was the headmaster of a boy’s school there. My grandmother was one of the first graduates of the Kolkata University. My grandfather passed away quite young at the age of 45. My grandmother decided to bring up my aunt and my father, who were teenagers at the time, on her own and chose not to come back to the family fold in Kolkata. She taught me what has become the core of my feminism that you don’t have to fight obvious battles or be aggressive. She wore white ‘than’, a crisp white sari as Bengali widows do. Though she was a very good-looking woman, she never wore any make up or jewellery. My grandmother and father migrated from Burma to Delhi after the war and bombing of Rangoon (my aunt had already married and moved away by then). They stayed with some relatives in Delhi. My father who was not married by then worked with Delhi Cloth Mills for a couple of years. He then appeared for the Indian Civil Services Examinations (those days there weren’t any written examinations, only interviews) and was instantly selected since he was a brilliant history student. When he was asked if he was okay with being posted in Rajasthan, he said that it didn’t make any difference to him because he didn’t know India at all as he had grown up in Burma. So, in the year 1950 or so, he along with his two Bengali friends and one Sindhi friend were selected in the first batch of IAS and posted to Rajasthan.
I was a superbly good student as a result of the foundation provided by my grandmother who taught me all subjects. I was not even fifteen when I graduated from school and was awarded a gold medal. I wasn’t a naughty student at all. I loved all the subjects except the sports period. In fact, the joke was that I would run away from the sports field in the sports period! The head of the school was an English woman named Ms. Luter who had migrated from Burma. She and her secretary Ms. Emma were very fond of my parents. Ms. Emma would occasionally cook Burmese delicacies for my father. They were just very good friends.

Who was your favourite teacher in school?
I loved my geography teacher Ms. Meenakshi. She would sit with the globe and show us countries and their photographs. It was then that I developed my love for travel. Fortunately, I married a man who was equally interested in travelling. We have large cupboard which houses souvenir teaspoons from each country that we have visited. There is strict rule in the family that you can only put a souvenir spoon in the cupboard if you have visited the country personally. Now over the years, my son also started collected teaspoons and now the cupboard has 400 teaspoons from different cities which are catalogued extensively. We have travelled to Alaska, most of Europe, Canada, lots of Australia and America, Africa and New Zealand. Except for South America which we have not visited, we have been to every other continent.
….To be Continued

This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on Thursday 25 April 2024