On August 11, Queenie Hallegua passed away at 89. She was almost the last of the Sephardi (White Jews) in Fort Kochi after a 500-year presence
When a community dies
By Shevlin Sebastian
At 5.45 p.m. in Los Angeles on August 10, Eliana, 22, called her father David Hallegua and said, “Dad, I am in a panic. I don’t know what is wrong with me.”
About 14,900 kms away, in Fort Kochi, at 6.15 am on August 11, David was feeling groggy. He was suffering from jetlag after arriving from Los Angeles. At 3 am, he went to sleep in his parents’ house on Synagogue Lane. Even so, he told Eliana, “You have not had enough water to drink.” Eliana did that. Then she lay down and felt better.
As soon as David hung up, the housekeeper, Flory, came to his room and said, “I want you to check up on Mom.”
David immediately went to his mother’s bed, and even though her body was warm, Queenie, 89, was no longer breathing. David realised that at the moment Eliana felt anxiety and discomfort, her grandmother had passed away.
Queenie was almost the last of the Sephardi (White Jews) in Fort Kochi. Only her nephew Keith Hallegua, 65, a bachelor, remains. She was the wife of Samuel, a community leader and a prominent proprietor, who passed away in 2009.
Queenie’s funeral took place at the Gan Shalom Jewish cemetery. This is near the Paradesi Synagogue. David’s sister Fiona had flown down from New York.
“It was the end of that chapter of my life with her,” she said. “I felt relieved my mother was not in pain anymore.”
Asked about his mother’s last words, David said it happened on his previous visit in July. He had come home when Queenie had taken ill with congestive heart problems. As David was returning to the USA, he told his mother he was leaving. “She looked at me and smiled,” said David.
Then Flory told her, “Give your son a blessing.”
Queenie placed her palm on David’s head and said, “May you get everything that you desire in life. May God bless you!”
Recommended by LinkedIn
David feels sad that the community has died out. In the 1950s, there were about 2000 Jews in Fort Kochi and Mattancherry. But many emigrated to Israel when the country came into being in 1948. “A lot of Jewish customs and practices have disappeared,” he said.
David’s early life
David did his schooling at St. John De Britto’s Anglo-Indian High School at Fort Kochi. His best friend was Elvis D’Cruz. They sat on the same bench.
When David and Elvis were in Class 8, they realised that both their fathers were students of the same school. They studied in the same class.
After 30 years, Elvis and David met again in Kochi in 2023. Elvis lived in Dubai for many years and had moved to Fort Kochi. “It was so good to catch up with Elvis after so many years,” said David. “Elvis again came to see me when my mother passed away.”
After his Class 10, David did his pre-degree from Sacred Heart College in Thevara. Thereafter, he went to Trivandrum Medical College because he wanted to be a doctor. After completing his course, in 1988, he went to the USA for further medical studies. Today, David is a practising rheumatologist (the management of arthritis). His wife Cici is a chartered accountant while Eliana works at the Capitol Records music company.
Asked whether because he was a Jew, he felt different while growing up in Fort Kochi, David said, “My original identity was that of a South Indian. I speak Malayalam fluently. It was my first language. But in my daily life, I am Jewish.”
So David would not eat meat in a restaurant that was not kosher. But his friends, Christians, Hindus and Muslims understood and accepted it. In medical school, his friends would say, “We can’t go to that restaurant because there is nothing that David could eat there.”
David said that all his friends would come over during the Jewish festivals, like Rosh Hashanah and the Shabbat. He also had a joyous celebration for his bar mitzvah. This is a coming-of-age ceremony when a boy turns 13 and marks his transition to becoming an adult.
David celebrated the Onam festival in the house of his Hindu friends. He also enjoyed Christmas with his Christian friends and Id with the Muslims. Not to forget the Gujarati and Parsi festivals.
Asked how Fort Kochi has changed, over the decades, David said, “It has become a commercialised tourist hub.”
David lived on the lane that led to the Jewish synagogue. “By 10 am, nowadays, the lane is very crowded,” said David. “Thousands of tourists come every day.”
David remembered it as a quiet lane. “My sister and I would have impromptu games with other boys and girls,” said David. “It was boisterous and full of joy. The elders would get together and have a drink. Some drank liquor or soda, while others had soft drinks.”
The Jews would have guests like Hamsa, a Muslim lawyer, Babu Seth, a Gujarati lawyer, a Parsi gentleman named Sorabjee, and a Hindu by the name of Sundaram. “It was a melting pot in one person’s living room,” said David
On tables and chairs placed outside, the women, including Queenie, played a South American game called Canasta (a type of rummy). “It was very competitive,” said David with a smile.
When asked whether syncretism, after hundreds of years, is alive and thriving in Fort Kochi, David said, “Yes, everybody lives in harmony. They depend economically on each other. Nobody wants any trouble that will disturb the peace.”
(Published in rediff.com)