Meher Heroyce Moos: She loved the ones she did, fiercely; but if you aroused her fury, you had it!’

A Parsi to the core, Meher had her eccentricities, which may have made her a misunderstood person among some people. But did she care? No, not really.

MUMBAI: The first time I met Meher Heroyce Moos was when I was newly married and she had come home to meet my husband Behram Contractor who she adored. She was on a short break from her posting in Italy as Air India’s tourism director. I remember thinking, “Boy! Who is this woman? And can she jabber!” This was 39 years ago.

Meher Heroyce Moos: She loved the ones she did, fiercely; but if you aroused her fury, you had it!’

Over the years our friendship deepened. We were similar in certain ways -- saying it like it is being one of them -- we had many squabbles but came through unscathed on most occasions. I remember, once when she on horseback and me trekking up the hill, on our way to Kedarnath temple, we didn’t say a single word to each other. She had bugged me and I was livid. But Meher who could surprise you with her graciousness and much as her gregariousness came and said sorry to me, as I sat on the temple steps. And all was well.

Meher was no ordinary person. Straight as an arrow she stood for honesty, integrity and loyalty. Deeply compassionate and humane, her sense of charity was enormous. As was her concern for everyone; rich or poor but especially the downtrodden. Be it the cobbler at the end of the street where she lived, for who she would carry a bowl of pasta as well as fund school fees for the daughter. Or the breadman from whom she would take free bread now and then, and then handsomely reward him on some festive occasion.

She was one of a kind. She didn’t care much to stay home, alone! She loved being at parties, her black book always crammed with social events. She made sure Behram, her friend and editor of ‘Afternoon’, allowed her to write a weekly society column for the newspaper called ‘Chitter Chatter’. It was Outlook editor, Vinod Mehta’s favourite column. He once said, sitting in Delhi he would get all the Bombay gossip from Meher’s column! Through it, she became a chronicler of Bombay of that time, and didn’t take kindly when she was not invited somewhere.

A front row sitter at the most exclusive fashion shows, Meher loved to dress. Her collection of sarees would be the envy of many. And she always wore jewellery to match. Costume or real. I always wondered how she knew what was where in her wardrobe.

Given her travels (she joined Air India as an air hostess in 1965 and went on to work in its public relations department until she retired in 2002), a tough decision to arrive at would be whether she loved food more or travel itself. She was passionate about both. She had immense knowledge of food, Indian and international, and had very finely-tuned taste buds. Travel accentuated this ability. She had been to places most people would have never thought possible, 50 years ago! Macchu-Picchu, Congo, Papua New Guinea, Amazon Rainforest, Caribbean Islands, the Sinai Desert; even trekking up a volcano in Vanuatu -- an island in the South Pacific Ocean.

An interesting anecdote would be a trip to Antarctica, from where she sent a telegram to the then Prime Minister of India. “With Love from Antarctica, Meher Moos of Air India!” Triggering off a flurry of activity in the PMO. Mrs Indira Gandhi was most fluttered. What! Air India was flying to Antarctica now and she didn’t know!! Misunderstanding sorted, Meher was in her office on her return, chatting with Mrs Gandhi over tea. Meher did know everyone and everyone knew her. She was not overwhelmed by anyone. It was a merely a matter of life.

A life she lived to the hilt. She could write, sing or dance with equal aplomb. So interested was she in every aspect of life she could get carried away with great intensity. She loved the ones she did, fiercely, but if you aroused her fury, you had it! Like Mario Miranda, the gentle cartoonist who she would arm-twist into making many a brilliant drawing of her. A distinctive one shows Meher Moos in a sola hat in a jungle in Africa, with an elegant man in Khakis, shaking her hand and saying, “Miss Moos, I presume…” A great take on the legendary explorer, Dr Livingstone, you will agree. So, what was Mario’s folly that aroused Meher’s wrath? Quite simply that he did not attend her father’s funeral. She never forgave him, right until he died.

A Parsi to the core, Meher had her eccentricities, which may have made her a misunderstood person among some people. But did she care? No, not really. She was too busy living life. She was a woman in much hurry. And now she is gone at 79, like the wind that has died down… yet blowing somewhere else.

(Farzana Behram Contractor is editor and publisher of ‘Upper Crust’.)