Opinion Dastkari Haat Samiti president Jaya Jaitly writes: Jasleen Dhamija, through her engagement with crafts, cultures, and cooking, became an inspiration
“I am hoping that we will begin to rebuild our life and there is hope in the future.” What more could a nearing 90-year-old teach but that one must pursue one's passions and always have hope for the future?
Jasleen was a close associate of Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay, imbibing her zest for the creative and historical stories that brought forth the exquisite textiles of not just India but equally passionately of West and South-East Asia. (Express Photo)
“Oscar Wilde said that if you know what you want to be, then you inevitably become it — that is your punishment, but if you never know, then you can be anything. There is a truth to that”, said Stephen Fry. Fry continued, “we are not nouns, we are verbs. I am not a thing — an actor, a writer — I am a person who does things — I write, I act — and I never know what I am going to do next. I think you can be imprisoned if you think of yourself as a noun.” It was not a noun or a verb but an adjective that came to me instantly when I began to write about Jasleen Dhamija. To live a life pursuing her passions, absorbing everyone and everything into it with a largeness of spirit till the age of 90 needed an indomitable spirit to love and pursue many things.
Jasleen was a close associate of Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay, imbibing her zest for the creative and historical stories that brought forth the exquisite textiles of not just India but equally passionately of West and South-East Asia. Their deep engagement with crafts and local cultures that sustained them inspired them to preserve, promote and share the knowledge they gained. Dhamija was a compelling speaker and writer, generously sharing her discoveries with audiences across the world. She wrote many books on handmade textiles.
However, it would not have been the quintessential Jasleen had she not had an almost equal love for cooking and feeding her friends. In the ’80s and ’90s, when she lived in Ahmedabad, I would visit her when I went to Gujarat in my capacity as a design and marketing consultant for the Gujarat State Handicrafts and Handloom Development Corporation. She would sit on her hichko, the ubiquitous swing that adorned many a verandah in Gujarat, speak in her rich gurgling voice, chuck constantly, tell stories, share ideas and feed us with the most delicious homemade snacks. This parallel love for cooking was expressed not just by the spread on her table but in books she wrote — Joy of Vegetarian Cooking, Cooking for all Seasons. She shared information about her third cookbook with her friends through her annual newsletter she sent out.
Jasleen was always gracious enough to address each friend separately in her letters; they weren’t of a “hello all” type of clubbing together of everybody. Although I knew she addressed many such letters separately, it was the graciousness or her way of showing her friendship that always made me reach out and respond. Over the past years, each letter contained a nub of sadness at the passing away of a close friend — Elsie, her daughter Joelle, Pramalaya, Vandana, Jeevi. In 2019, a certain deeper sadness had crept into her tone.
“This year I became 86 and I am finding it more difficult to cope with life. I have lost many dear friends. This year, I lost my beloved friend, Carmen Kagal, whom I had known for over fifty years. I had spent a wonderful time with her, travelling, sharing ideas, thoughts and enjoying new publications. She left us last month. I feel a terrible sense of loss. I find it difficult to accept that she is not with us. I often wake up in the morning with her name on my lips. What keeps me going is that I keep myself busy.”
The consciousness of advancing age and the loss of close friends every year was conquered by the indomitable spirit she would bring to the fore by organising a Baluchar sari exhibition, another on Kantha textiles, the enjoyment of the reprinting of the Joys of Vegetarian Cooking, giving keynote addresses, many a time in a wheelchair.
The last I heard from her was in 2021. She felt she did not have the energy to do an annual letter but still shared her thoughts. The pandemic, the trials and tribulations of the migrants, the satisfaction of a vaccine coming around the corner and, there again, her indomitable spirit appeared as she ended the letter — “I am hoping that we will begin to rebuild our life and there is hope in the future.” What more could a nearing 90-year-old teach the younger generation but that one must pursue one’s passions to rise above and beyond oneself and always have hope for the future? Goodbye Jasleen and thank you for your generosity.
The writer is founder/president, Dastkari Haat Samiti
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