Reliving the happy days of my childhood with Cathy Candida Dias - March 11, 1937 – February 29, 2024

Hootoksi Tyabji, Shah Alam, September 2024

My earliest memory of Cathy is of her oiling my hair and tying it up in a “palm tree” on top of my head. She would admonish me if I made a face when it hurt and would say “Stop being a baby” but I was a baby, and she was just a young girl living and working for us, far away from her village and family in Goa on the Southwest Coast of India.
Cathy’s parents were very poor and sent her off to Bombay in search of a job. At first, she lived with a cousin but had to leave shortly because the family couldn’t afford to feed an extra mouth. She began working in people’s homes as a domestic helper but was often overworked and not paid a salary. She slept on the floor and ate leftovers from the family meal and was very unhappy. A friend of my mum’s who attended the same church as Cathy, seeing her plight suggested that mum employ her, and the rest is history.

Cathy lived with us in our home at 20 Nepean Sea Road where she helped my mother with the household chores and the care of us three children. My eldest sister Shehernavaz was around 7 at the time, my brother Kershasp 4 and I was 2! All our uncles, aunts, cousins and friends knew that we never went anywhere without Cathy,
She was very much a part of our family.

Being the youngest of the three children, I needed the most attention and she and I shared a special bond. She was a very important part of the first 9 years of my life. Here are some vivid memories I hold and cherish of her.

Every day at around 4 PM Cathy would round us up, get us dressed and oversee the drinking of a mandatory glass of milk; she would then take us outside to play with other children from the buildings surrounding ours. Sometimes we walked to Darabshaw Lane, and she bought me a bauble from the balloon man or some roasted peanuts which I had to share with the other children.

Cathy was a no-nonsense kind of person, and she was very strict with us, especially with Kershasp. Her favorite phrase whenever he wouldn’t do what he needed to was, “Come on, come on, don’t be a big landlord!” implying that he should get on with whatever he was whining about! Every summer during the school holidays Cathy would oversee transporting us on the train to my grandparents’ home in Bangalore. There was much excitement leading up to this adventure, sometimes my cousins Kaikoo, Anahit and Cyrus would come along too! My parents would drive us to Victoria Terminus station and then began the haggling with a coolie to get him to carry our bags. Each of these men managed to carry huge loads of multiple suitcases on their heads, and often in addition, they slung a bedding on their shoulders and other assorted things around their necks. The coolies were dressed in red shirts, some wore turbans, but they all had a leather band around their arms with a brass number on it to identify them as registered porters. They always knew which platform the train would leave from and would take us directly there fighting through a sea of humanity all heading to different platforms to board different trains! The noise and the mayhem were frightening, and Cathy would hold on to my hand as if her life depended on it!! My parents would walk up and down the carriages reading the typed lists with the names of the passengers stuck outside each compartment. Once they knew which compartment we were in the coolie would stow our bags under the seats and after much haggling about payment, he would rush off to his next client while my parents waited on the platform for the shrill whistle of the train that signaled our imminent departure! they waved us off and we pushed our heads through the bars of the windows screeching “bye” till we couldn’t see them on the platform anymore! the great big black steam engine would huff and puff chugging along and picking up speed as we embarked on the 28-hour journey from Bombay to Bangalore.

We travelled first class and consequently had our own coach with 4 wide berths to sleep on, two at the top and two at the bottom. These were covered with green leatherette with “Indian Railways” embossed all over. We always travelled with a bedding, a large canvas roll into which our sheets and towels were laid out flat. At both ends were two large pockets with pillows. The bedding was rolled up and fastened with leather straps, Cathy would undo it all and make up our beds each night. We had our own bathroom and sink in the compartment and a table under which Cathy would place the large wicker food basket which was strictly off limits! She dived into it and produced all sorts of yummy surprises and used these to bribe us to be quiet, stop messing around and as prizes for board games mainly Snakes and Ladders and Ludo! There was a black rotating ceiling fan on the roof that had a whirring sound and gave off a soft and soothing breeze. It was quite dangerously placed, very close to the upper berth which was supposed to be only used for sleeping but we insisted on sitting up there and playing.

I still remember her fierce face as she would dramatically remind us on each journey that the fan would chop off our heads if we got close to it, so we kept a safe distance! We ordered food on the train, and it was served by waiters in crisp white uniforms, I enjoyed the chicken cutlets and mixed vegetables and the mulligatawny soup and of
course the quintessential caramel custard.

I loved pushing my head out of the bars of the windows and feeling the hot breeze on my face. I would gaze endlessly at the fields of wheat, corn and paddy, I enjoyed
watching the stalks dancing in the breeze and the water buffaloes. They would be wallowing in water with their large snouts snorting and their doleful eyes gazing while
little birds pecked the insects off their backs! I enjoyed watching the villages go by ……. The huts were decorated with designs drawn in white, some had cow dung patties pressed against the walls. There were always naked children screeching and playing in the mud among the chickens, ducks, goats and cows! The women were dressed in colorful clothes and were always busy grinding, threshing, sweeping, collecting water, washing clothes or cooking! When we briefly stopped at small stations in the middle of the countryside, impoverished men often blind or disabled, and young children could be seen sitting on the platform singing their hearts out to the accompaniment of homemade instruments. These would include string instruments and shakers made of coke bottle caps that made an interesting sound and accompanied folk songs that they
belted out! There were always vendors running alongside the train shouting “chai, garam chai” “kofi Nescofee,” “paani, paani baatal” “peepermeet, chocolate, biscoot” Sometimes the train started pulling away from the platform and passengers threw coins out of the window to the sellers who scooped them up!

Cathy tried to get me to stop sticking my face out of the window because the soot from the engine would turn it black, but she knew I loved doing it and invariably indulged me and scrubbed it clean each time! At the large junctions where the train stopped for 30 mins or more, the platform was filled with shops and hundreds of people jostling to catch trains, coolies in red uniforms carrying piles of luggage on their heads and the loud hiss of steam engines and whistles of trains getting ready to leave! We would sometimes excitedly get off the train with Cathy clutching my hand tightly as we bought water, or browsed the carts filled with all sorts of books, magazines and newspapers. I loved the books with paper dolls and their clothes that you could cut out and play with. The moment the engine sounded its loud whistle we would rush off and get back on the train.

One time my brother Kershasp and I were fighting over something on the upper berth, and he pushed me off, my forehead hit the edge of the fan and there was a lot of blood, but it was clearly nothing serious! Cathy dealt with Kershasp first, dragged him down and walloped him before she attended to my cut!

Once we got to Bangalore, our grandparents were waiting on the platform, and we would pile into their Vauxhall car and drive to their beautiful bungalow on 16 Davis Road in Richards Town where we spent the month of our summer holidays. Grandma whom we called ma, was a stern woman who made no bones about the fact that she preferred boys to girls! my brother and male cousins got the larger piece of cake and two annas if they slept in the afternoons while us girls only got got one!

I have vivid memories of our evening outings to Coubbon Park, going to the market to buy boiled sweets from large glass jars, climbing the Chiku and Mango trees, going to the May ball at the Bowring Club where girls in pretty dresses danced around a Maypole and grandma sitting and playing the piano and singing while we gathered around her. I also have fond memories of Loga and Esther the gracious and kind Burmese ladies who worked for ma and the cow that came to the house every morning to be milked
and the egg man setting his bamboo basket filled with eggs for ma to select. She would put them in a bowl of water to see that every one of them she bought floated. If it sank to the bottom it was rejected!

When I was around 8 years old my mum decided it was time for her to find a husband for Cathy and she found this young Goan man Alex, who worked on cargo ships and was looking for a bride. They were introduced and liked each other so mum organized Cathy’s wedding and I remember the excitement in our house for months before the event!

Her beautiful wedding dress of white Belgium lace was sewn by my aunt Roshan who was a master seamstress. A hall was hired, and the date was set, 28 th July 1959! Our family as well as aunty Roshan and her mother Oma, Uncle Cavas and Kaikoo were there in addition to family members and friends of the young couple. It was a beautiful occasion, and I remember it quite clearly 65 years on!!

The following year when I was 9 years old, I went off to boarding school and soon after, Cathy went to Goa as a young bride, to start a family of her own. Cathy and Alex managed to buy a plot of land in Salsette in southern Goa. They lived in a village house with an outdoor toilet, and we visited them there, it was my first experience of an outdoor Goan toilet with pigs all around!

Cathy and Alex had four beautiful children, Menino, John, Flora and Suzana. Alex worked on cargo ships, so he travelled a lot while Cathy managed the house, the land and the kids on her own!

Over the years my Mama kept in touch with Cathy and would speak to her often on the phone even from Malaysia. We were kept abreast of all her news and heard about her children, what they were doing and how they were getting on in life. As they grew up and got married with families of their own, they moved out of Goa, Menino went to Delhi, John to Dubai, Flora to Canada and Suzana to Holland. They always sent money home and built a beautiful two-bedroom cottage for their parents in place of the village house on the same plot of land. Alex passed away in December 2007 and Cathy continued to live there on her own.

I visited her in 2017, and we had a wonderful time together. I continued my mama’s tradition of calling and kept in touch with her in much the same way as my mum had. We both enjoyed our chats and Cathy was always keen to know about my children and grandchildren and I was interested in hers. At 73 she still called me Baby!!

At the end of 2023 Cathy sold her cottage in Goa and moved to Delhi to live with her son Menino and his family. She missed Goa and her home and though she was comfortable and content the winer cold in Delhi got to her and she passed away in February 2024.

All her children apart from Flora were around her when she passed and Suzana kept me fully informed during those last few days of her life. I was able to be present at
Cathy’s funeral online, and I bid her farewell across the miles though she lives forever in my heart.

In July 2024 I got a WhatsApp message from Suzanna who wanted to know if we were in KL and if so, could she visit us please? Her best friend in Holland is a Malaysian who was celebrating her 50 th birthday with her family here. Suzanna, her husband Raymond and her younger son Kevin were flying out to be a part of the celebration! Imagine my joy when on Sat 27 th July 2024 I finally met one of Cathy’s children! We had lunch together with the family and she reminded me so much of her mum! Here we were, two women of different generations, each knowing of but never meeting the other, and bound by a woman we both equally loved! Suzanna and I will continue the tradition and remain in touch thus keeping the memory of our beloved Cathy alive!