Doreen Lobo: Nalini Rao, RIP

Nalini worked as a secretary in Hyderabad and New York.

She was a dignified, cultured and soft-spoken lady. Her life was UNICEF and her three sons.

Warm wishes

Doreen





Memories of Nalini Rao (Sree Gururaja)

“My condolences to Nalini’s family and friends. I was saddened by her passing. We were in school ( Baldwin’s Girls’ School) together in Bangalore. Nalini Bhargava was a tall girl with a smile which stayed with her throughout in later life. She was an athlete and actively involved in sports in school. It was hard to think of her being bedridden during the last months of her life.

We met up years later in UNICEF, India and then in UNICEF Headquarters, New York where she started in our Section, then worked in Programme Division and subsequently for UNICEF’s Legal Office.. It was a pleasure to have Nalini in your team - reliable and efficient. She was popular in Programme Division for she quietly managed most desks with calmness and a smile. She put her family first and took her responsibility as a wife and mother seriously. I was privileged to know Nalini and fondly recall several moments of fun and friendship. Rest in Peace, my friend.”

Sree




Treasured Memories (Gautam, the oldest son)

The only suit that will fit you, my dear boy, is your birthday suit’ ….

That was my mum, at her very best, hinting with the subtlety of a sledgehammer that I needed to knock the pounds off. It takes a certain pizzazz to nag someone and yet be sarcastic and funny, all at the same time and she did with elan, and often.

Nalini Rao – daughter to Sqdrn. Ldr. SS and Susheela Bhargava, sister to Mala, wife to DJ, mother in law to Kavita, Julie and Leslie, grandmother to Anish and Noah, mother to the 3 Musketeers, friend and inspiration to all those who knew her, worked with her or even just met her, always leaving an impression with her effervescence, her wit and her wisdom.

She did not have an easy life. The loss of her father at a young age meant that she started working early, having 3 children by the time she was 30, continuing to work and raising us while Dad was posted at our country’s borders sure took its toll. We never lacked for anything, we were disciplined with the occasional hairbrush and when that broke, with the friendly kitchen ‘kabgeer’, the spoon used to take out puris from hot oil. For years, the sight of any puri-making reminded me of stinging butt-cheeks and being called ‘bloody devils’.

Her work at UNICEF for many years had her riding her moped, and eventually her beloved Kinetic Honda gave her independence that she used as her birthright, not waiting to be picked up or taken somewhere and she rode her bike for years, all over town. She learnt to drive but enjoyed 2-wheelers more and was always a familiar sight, with her orange and white Japanese riding helmet (safety first, always).

Once Dad retired, and her boys were well on their way to becoming adults, she wanted to do more, and decided she was going to America. Snagging a job at the UN, off she went, her first time abroad, with no knowledge of the world outside our country, a few phone numbers of friends. I can only imagine the strength it took to combat loneliness, going from a noisy household to absolute silence living alone brings, in an age where there was no internet or Netflix, I still wonder how she did it.

I know what propelled her to do it, though. The prospect of a better life and better possibilities for her family. It’s what kept her going, and she got Dad and 2 of the Musketeers across. Dad loved his time there, and Chix and Vix have flourished and made the Big Apple their home. I remember the pride and joy she felt when Chickoo bought his apartment and she was ecstatic to have made the trip to go see it.



Having spent a good number of years at the UN, she retired and came back home to her beloved B53, looking forward to putting her feet up and enjoying herself. That lasted probably two weeks before she got bored and decided to make changes to the house to keep herself busy, changing flooring, adding a room, tending to her garden. Once that got done and she found herself at a loose end she heard of an opportunity in Geneva with WHO, and she jumped at it, packed her bags and scooted off to a new continent, a new adventure. I had to good fortune to go visit her there, and we enjoyed a couple of weeks together, the Mother and her First Born.



A couple of years in Geneva, and Mum finally decided it was time to come back. My Dad’s health began to get worse and she spent the next few years tending to him. It was tough, in and out of hospitals, Mum taking the day shift, me the night shift sometimes. Life continued, annual Christmas parties, Sunday lunches, and me moving back home when they both got frailer and older. It was a strange life – doing big events travelling across the country but coming home to ‘it’s late, put off the light and go to sleep’ or the usual ‘make your bed, this isn’t a hotel’! Dad continued to deteriorate and eventually left us and that’s when Mum and the rest of us realised that while we were all focusing on Dad’s health, neither she nor anyone else knew that things were not well with her.



Her issues went from bad to worse, and ended up with her becoming almost bed-ridden for the rest of her life. For a woman who travelled the world, who was so independent, this was a hard blow but in her inimitable style, she took it on the chin and went through these years with self-deprecating humour, and grace. I frequently heard her answer the ‘how are you’ question with ‘Alive, just not kicking’ ... She had her bad days too when she wanted her life to end, but thankfully, the good days outweighed the bad.



In and out of hospital for the last few years, a full time nurse to take care of her needs, physiotherapy, acupuncture, pain and misery became her new companions and yet through all of this, she retained her spirit, her sense of humour, still loved meeting people, still loved engaging with my friends, and still continued to worry about her 3 sons, nagging them at every opportunity that she got.



Daily phone calls over the years from both the American brothers kept her going, she knew when the phone rang at a particular time who it would be, and their Annual visits for her birthday were the highlights of her life and we are all grateful that she got to see her grandson Noah grow into a smart young lad, and spend time with him.



Over the last couple of years, she got worse and I am blessed to have had the opportunity to serve, to help and to be there for her. Her new i-pad, Smart TV, Netflix and reality shows enabled my mum and me to have innumerable discussions about The Voice, Masterchef and various other TV Shows. I will cherish those conversations because they were normal and had nothing to do with doctors and hospital.



While she was unwell for the last month and a half, the end came suddenly. A horrible week in the ICU, where she suffered is something I wish she did not have to go through. She knew the end was coming. She was prepared. She wished it would happen soon. In all of this, her spirit and her nature still shone through. When she was taken off the ventilator and was conscious, she could not speak but asked for a pen and paper. Among the first things she wrote was ‘Mala how is she’ .. She also wrote down her date of birth for me (just being sure, in case I didn’t know)



The brothers spent some time with her, and she gave them some life advice. It amazes me how, as the rest of her was failing, her mind stayed focused on those she loved. Her last two days were terrible and I am forever grateful to the powers that be that I was able to be by her side and take care of her, provide her with some relief. I never got any life advice though!!



I never got any life advice and I think I know why. My life advice was in front of me, in the ICU. To be good, and kind, to be brave, to go through tough times and yet think of others, to accept what was coming, to not blame life but to live it with whatever hand you were dealt. She knew she was going. She told me what picture she wanted me to use for her obituary and for the house – ‘That’s the picture I want, I like it. Don’t use your other rubbish pictures’ ..



And she went. Unfortunately, not gently into the night.



A life lived to the fullest. One with adventure. And lived with Amazing Grace.



For all those who worked with her, cared for her, enjoyed her company - think of her and remember her as she was when she was with you. She would like to be remembered like that.



and finally.... Nalini - maa, mother mine... my hero, my mummy, my darling beautiful soul, my heart aches only because you’re not here to make me feel better with the touch of your hand and your voice saying Gautama.. I cannot imagine a life without you and learning to live one that doesn’t have you in it is going to be the toughest thing I can go through. But go through it I will, like you, with kindness, with love, with fond memories and with the strength you have given me – you’ve raised me so I can stand on mountains, you’ve raised me to walk on stormy seas, I am strong when I am on your shoulders, you’ve raised me to be more than I can be.



I love you mother, and I will miss you like I have never missed anything before…



❤ ❤ <3 br="">
Gautam






..

Jaivanth (the middle son)

and so she finally leaves us after having fought the tough fight. Our hearts and all our love go with you. After your long, long struggle, may you forever Rest in Peace.

Jaivanth



Vikram’s Reflections (the youngest son)

My Mom came home last night, she was resting in the living room with a view of her garden, which she always tended to and loved. Last night when she was being brought in, the player randomly picked 2 hymns back to back out of a couple hundred songs, an invisible hand looking over her did that, we all looked at each other when it happened, definitely someone else came in with her to arrange that.




Maa always wanted her home to be filled with good vibes and laughter and boy did we deliver. Villa Maria always echoed with the sounds of music, movies and Hyderabadi banter. Our friends always sought refuge from their strict families to let loose here. My Dad once over heard one of my friends plans to go out drinking to which he interrupted and lamented that my friend could access his bar here to get shit faced and pass out here instead of driving while drunk. That was my Dad, not very eloquent but he did get his point across flawlessly.




Years of memories just flooded back, every second Saturday after School she would pick me up on her little scoot and we would paint the town, her face in the crowd at JFK when I first went to the States, or when she said a relative was flying in from the States and it turned out to be her. My second night in America we walked around Manhattan and of course everyone wants to see either the Empire State Bldg or Times Sq...so we walked to Times Sq. Back then Times Sq was equal parts Neon signs and adult bookstores with various paraphernalia hanging in the windows, when the first one showed up I acted like I had no idea what these shops were to which she said and I'm quoting her "who the hell are you fooling, go inside and take a look, I will wait for you outside"




My Mom always had a knack of making people feel welcome, she was the agony Aunt to alot of people, she would lend her ear to people in need and offer advice if they wanted. She was also very forward thinking, she raised us to hold the door open, do the dishes, cook and fold the laundry, her logic was "who is going to marry you, better learn to do this on your own" she taught us respect and equality from a very early age, she treated everyone the same and everyone looked up to her.




My Mom was a saint, she did everything right. Her body just broke into many pieces that couldn't be put back together, she suffered through it all with a smile and radiance. The last week was terrible, seeing her in the hospital will forever be etched in my mind. 3 days ago in a moment of absolute lucidity she told my brother Chicko and I that she loved us and we need to go in peace, take care of each other and Maal and Aunty June.




I'm hoping my Mother is at peace wherever she is, catching up with those gone before her, I'm sure fudge and brodie are sitting by her side. So Maa wherever you are. I LOVE YOU forever and ever. Leslie, the girls and I will always feel your presence next to us.

Vikram