Her father’s passing in 1945 had devastated her. For a long time, the joy seemed to have been emptied from their home. Those were difficult years – a time of worry and fear. He had been provider, protector, head of the household and the family business. Without him, the shop might be lost, and the family would have to find a new way to survive.

Roda feels the ache of the memory for a moment, but then summons up a brief but deliberate smile. Finding her father’s stubborn spirit within her it was she who saved the shop. She was conscious that a rare courage had grown within her. She’d worked in the shop since she was a young girl and had naturally followed her father’s interests in trading and in academics and politics. Indeed, she had joined him for a short part of the Dandi Salt March (her mother had been very upset). Then, at thirteen, Roda had watched her father falling under the lathis of policemen as he gave out pamphlets during a peaceful patriotic march through Swadeshi Market. She had of course looked on helplessly, unable to run to him as the policeman rained pitiless blows until he buckled, bruised and bloody. This vivid image and the acute feeling of complete helplessness was still in her.

It took a long time, and all her abundant energy, but in Roda’s steady and determined hands, the shop thrived. The lessons of her childhood are never far away. When her father had returned from the front in the Great War, he became a strong believer in the idea of freedom through trade and became involved in the freedom struggle. Now, next to the home-grown salt and sugar that her father began selling (illegally), sit iconic Indian-made household products. And, to the delight of her loyal patrons, she now serves hearty plates of Akuri, Keema Pau, Omelets and their speciality of crunchy Brun Maska.