Remembering Noor Jahan – our old ayah whose life epitomized hard work, dedication and loyalty
Her name was Noor Jahan. We called her ‘ayah’ and she worked in our home. This was in Calcutta during the heady Sixties and Seventies (1960s-70s) and the early Eighties. Ayah must have been there at home ever since I started going to school or possibly a little later. My memories of schooldays at Don Bosco in Park Circus are peppered with her presence during lunch hour and beyond. She would lay out my lunch at the same space on the long table each day, make sure I (‘babu’ she would call me) had everything that was sent by mother, and then wait till I had finished my playing rounds ahead of the post-lunch assembly, to wipe my face and head with a fresh towel. This became the daily regimen till I passed out of school. I do not remember her taking a day’s leave during all those years, except once when she had blisters on her foot, my sister, Snehalata, recalls, which, come to think of it, makes it absolutely amazing, isn’t it? (Ayah's husband would take lunch for sister when s...
