Where do I even start?!  He was a larger-than-life figure in our family, eldest brother to my mom and Bakumasi - indeed the family patriarch of the Sheth family and also his extended family of the Indian Swaminarayan Patel community in the Bay area.  He lived his life simply and selflessly, on his own terms in order to bestow his generosity on so many!  Let’s remember those trays of ‘fafda and jalebi”, boxes of mangoes, giant bags of nuts, chah-no-masalo (his own recipe) and sets of pickle bottles just turning up for a casual gathering or shipped in parcels to our homes; often overwhelming his hosts and housewives across the Bay area, Ahmedabad and Mumbai!

Jajjama in a sense was a bit of a rebel - choosing an unconventional path of life of getting a PhD in agriculture and working as a Keno dealer in Reno and Lake Tahoe for years - just because he could and didn’t care!  On the other hand, he belonged to a different era emigrating to the US in the 1930s and was acutely aware of changing perceptions and cultures across generations but remained a steadfast traditional Indian uncle - fiercely proud of our Sheth family roots, our culture and food traditions!  In his heyday till the end - he embodied class and insistence in rigorous grooming!  His shirts were sparkling white and always took great pride in his tailored clothes.  Of course, we have to find the photo of him shaving and his high-wattage mirror.  His friends at the casino called him Omar after the actor Omar Sharif and at one point he sued MGM Grand for the right to keep his mustache!

Our family’s best memories are when he played host and tour guide to so many visiting Lake Tahoe, Reno and San Francisco and the frenzy of his visits to Kalyan Society, Ahmedabad.  His loud booming voice and controversial opinions while entertaining his friends and extended family lasted days and nights.  My mom and our wonderful cook Maganbhai kept up with his demands of endless cups of tea and typical Oswal-jain delicacies such as dabka-in-khadi, bhadku and leela-chana to name a few.  He had his preferences and strong opinions on how different gujarati communities handled variations of the same recipe! In these days of improvisation I feel we are quickly losing parts of our culinary authenticity and history.

Lastly, Jajjamama was a cheerleader and well-wisher to all cousins in my generation and the grandkids! That said, always the ladies man - he had a special spot in his heart for all the girls or the “Matas”.  Most of us Sheth-family girls remember the ‘you owe me eight kisses' hugs from our childhood days and his prophecy “Right now she is this cute babydoll but watch out for the krankies and coo-coo-coo!!” As Nisha and I settled into the world of work his acute observations about the realities of corporate-america rang true.  “Never leave a job in a huff.  If you are out of a job, no one will want you!”

Jajjamama - your passing marks an end of an era.  We miss you already.  Stay well in heaven. Do drop anytime in our dreams bringing your treats and timeless wisdom.

Truly the end of an era. Where do I even begin?! 

Born Jan 25, 1930, named at birth “Priyakant”, he got the nickname of Jawaharlal Nehru during India’s freedom struggle. The rest of the cousins with nicknames went back to their original name, but not him. He adopted Jawahar, dropped the ‘h’ in Sheth and officially changed his name to Jawahar R or J R Seth. Because his birth date was so close to India’s Republic Day, he would celebrate his birthday on Jan 26^th given his patriotic name. He became Jajjamama to Sheth family folks and Nehru kaka for his Patel friend community in the US. 

Jajjamama, 17 yrs senior to my mom, was a father figure to her, Bakumasi, and all the Sheth cousins of that generation. With his passing, we lose so much of the history and knowledge of our family. The oldest surviving Sheth cousin is now reunited with his parents, uncles and aunts, brothers Gautam and Vikram, and close cousins like Dadhikaka. Extremely proud of the Sheth clan, Jajjamama claimed that the Sheths descended from royalty, and we all had royal blue blood flowing through our veins!

He was such a colorful character. A bachelor with hopes and dreams of marrying well into his advanced years. Who can forget the posters in his apt and room of the Bollywood leading ladies, that would get upgraded as time went on?! I believe the last posters were that of Aishwarya Rai and Madhuri Dixit. And his stories of why he didn’t get married was because he never met anyone that could fit the bikinis he had in mind!!!

His love for food. OMG. As my parents were rushing to CA last week, he was instructing mummy to buy 12 bags of frozen Italian cut beans and how she should teach his Patel friends’ wives how to make ‘methi no gegho’ and other traditional Jain Oswal dishes, so they could cook it for him.  His calls with my mom revolved around food wondering what delicacy she had made for her visitors. His trademark methi no masala that went everywhere with him (his clothes smelled of it!) and he put it on pasta, pizza, Mexican, you name it! And his obsession with piping hot food, 3 minute microwave hot! And the chaa no masalo, where he would bring pounds and pounds of cinnamon, cloves and other spices for the perfect secret recipe that would get pounded in our garage with these large women with low cut blouses. The pounding would invariably be during my exams. And the distribution of that chaa no masalo was a production too; daddy’s factory workers would come over to make homemade sealed bags. All this effort for something you only use a pinch of in your tea.

His time with Dadaji, his visits to India, his letters that were addressed to my mom, dad, us and “vigere” (i.e. etc.) are unforgettable. His letters (with stamps of $16..imagine the weight) would be read aloud by mummy with her theatrical flair and Dadhikaka bringing a bottle of whiskey saying ‘to that’. Nights filled with so much laughter. 

He was obsessed with his clothes getting them tailored by his Italian friend. And he made me go all around Paris and NYC trying to find the perfect hem tape for his pants. He didn’t believe me when I told him that that they stopped making that type of hem tape. And the hours he spent shaving and perfecting his mustache.

He was hard of hearing, so discussions around him were always loud. But Seema and I are convinced that he could hear just fine, and simply pretended to not hear us because he didn’t want to deal with a topic or us.

He loved his nieces and nephews. He was obsessed with me getting posted in France through PwC. Seema and I were able to come to the US to graduate school, thanks in large part to him, getting us started with initial funds. He would send empty wrappers of tortilla packages or other products, and when I’d ask him what they were for, he’d say that’s ‘visual education’, and it will be easy to locate these in the grocery store! He sent stamped ready to go airmail envelopes (remember those?!) so I could write letters home and not feel homesick. 

He embraced sons in law, daughters in law, friends, and knew the background and stories of everyone! And he put them to work. Alex spent countless hours researching the perfect shaver/blade across the United States. His memory – sharp as a whip till the very end. 

He was selfless and extremely popular in the Bay Area Gujarati community. After moving from Reno, he spent years doing community service by being the driver for dada, the lawyer (I forget his name..he passed away too a few years ago) who represented the elderly Bay Area community in need. He was also featured in a book about dada and their work, which gave him great pride.

And finally his love for our kids. He would ask Saj ,Nina, Rohan to give 8 kisses and he would tell Rohan to make Saj and Nina feel jealous by saying “Jajjamama is mine”. Jajjamama was all ours!!

Rest in peace, Jajjamama. 

Lots of love, hugs, and 8 kisses, Nisha