HINTERLAND TIMES - Sheila’s story continued

The year 1954 was a sad time for the family. Sheila was almost at the end of her schooling when her younger sister Leela became unwell – she had suffered what Sheila described as measles pox as a child and at only 13 ½ years old she died from pleurisy resulting from her weakened immune system.

Sheila left the Island to complete her Years 11 and 12. It was a 3-4 day trip from Port Blair to Calcutta (now Kolkata) by boat, so Sheila only returned home at the end of each term.

When she then attended the Handicraft University of Bombay for two years, she stayed in a hostel while she studied. Her workbooks are records of her study, each neat line and hand drawing illustrating the sewing patterns, and handcraft skills the class learnt. 

Sheila graduated from her handcrafts course, became a teacher, and returned to Port Blair. 

In 1960 when her sister Kanta married a lawyer and went to live in Bombay, Sheila joined the couple. She lived in Bombay for the next four years making intricately-styled dolls, using traditional fabrics for saris, with her sister to sell to the American market. 

Sheila was working in Bombay when her father became unwell. In the following days the operating doctor told Sheila’s mother that her husband was slipping away and there was nothing more that could be done. However, after the final funeral rites and the Antyeshti (cremation), the family made the horrific discovery that Dr Ramanand’s ashes also contained a pair of forceps. It was terrible to think that the doctor’s death was caused by malpractice and not because of an incurable illness. 

When walking home from the market one day with her friend Sheila saw a man walking in the opposite direction approaching them. He stopped and hastened to assure them that he didn’t want any money, but would appreciate some nashta (breakfast). 

“I can tell you something about yourself,” he told Sheila. The women, being only two houses from home, invited him to come back for some breakfast. Without touching Sheila, or even looking at her hand, he told her that she should get married within three months or that if she didn’t her marriage line was finishing. 

He picked up a moonstone and added, “If you get married, you will go far.” Sheila and her friend gave the beggar an old shirt and a lungi (sarong) and he went on his way. Sheila thought his words about ‘going far away’ must refer to her going three days by boat to live on the mainland if she married.

Life continued on much as usual for Sheila until the mother of her friend (who Sheila always called Aunty) undid an old paper cone that she had carried home from the market filled with sugar or something similar and read a little ad in the very corner of the paper square. 

The ad read that an Australian man was looking for an Indian girl to marry. The address to write to was in Bombay, so mother and daughter together wrote a reply on behalf of Sheila, who knew nothing of the letter.

Seven or eight days later, there was a telephone call at about 9pm from the landlord. “You are going to get a visitor from Australia at about 9am tomorrow.” 

It was then that her friend and Aunty had to confess what they had done. Afterall, Sheila was 33 years old and her father was not alive to arrange a marriage for her, so they had taken it into their own hands.

The next day there was a mad flurry as food preparations were made for the big occasion. Sheila stayed home from work and nervously waited. She waited for hours thinking that the prospective Australian must have changed his mind. Eventually, the landlord sent the houseboy to explain that the visitor could not come today. Disappointed, the women ate the treats.

While getting ready to shower and go to work Sheila’s friend yelled, “He’s here!” Of course there was mad panic – no special food was made; so the Aunty pushed the houseboy out of the window, there being no back door to secretly exit, so that he could buy some treats from the market. 

Aunty offered tea or coffee while Sheila didn’t even have time to shower – she rushed to dress and come down the stairs making a gracious entrance.

The first thing Sheila remembers about the meeting is that the visitor winked at her. She was introduced to John Carnevale, a man aged 51 with dark hair and olive skin – he didn’t look so very different from the men she knew, and she didn’t mind his appearance. 

Later she learned he had been in a terrible car accident at Mount Isa, hit by a drunken doctor, putting him in a coma for three months and leaving his left side shattered. His broken left leg had been pinned but he was also diabetic which slowed the healing. 

John had been married and had an adult son and daughter. Following this catastrophe, he had left his job as Work Study Officer at Mount Isa and divorced his unfaithful wife. He had become an adherent of Meyer Baba and visited the Avatar’s Abode at Kiel Mountain Road, Woombye. 

Perhaps it was his admiration for Meyer Baba’s practices, emphasising love and service to others, that guided him to visit India to find a wife.

John said he would let them know his decision about Sheila’s suitability. He had received 13 letters from applicants and had been advised that there would only be one Hindu girl who applied and that John should choose this girl. That girl was Sheila.

John rang to ask Sheila to have dinner with him that night and he would then be able to determine if she was the best choice for him. He was staying with a friend and his wife Gerty. Suddenly it was Gerty who was in a flurry to make a fine dinner for the prospective bride.

John made his choice and Sheila accepted the offer when Aunty acted as intermediary. 

The wedding took place at Mangalore on November 17, 1972 with a priest hired, and Sheila’s youngest brother Swastic the only witness from her family able to attend the wedding.