I first met Noor Jehan Mecklai in in 2016 when she visited our home to interview my father for a review of his art exhibition. My first impression of her was that of an elegant, independent and strong woman of few words. Her sentences were structured well, her speech was clear and she was very well-informed. We had a lovely conversation that day, which proved to be the beginning of a five-year-long friendship.
My first glimpse into her quirky and curious side was when I received an email from her, from the address coffeecantata_211@yahoo.com. She had a story behind the name, which I cannot recall, but I quickly realised that nothing in her life or her writing was seemingly ‘random’; every choice had meaning and research behind it.
Over the next five years, Noor Jehan’s emails became an integral part of my life, and I give her credit for helping evolve our acquaintance into a friendship. While re-reading all of our 150 or so emails over the last few days, I was transported back to important milestones and experiences of my life that I would update her with. I emailed her about my artist residencies in the small towns of Fribourg, Switzerland and Mynamaki, Finland, to my friends’ weddings, to family members passing away, to new exhibitions, to art reviews and celebrations, and in turn she gave me interesting anecdotes about her life, her past, her daily routine, her helper Qaiser, her deceased husband Mr. Shaukat Mecklai, as well as advice on conquering artist’s block and meditation techniques. She would enquire about my family and friends and our whereabouts, and I would enquire about her health and art reviews and her endeavours to get her writings published. What I found most adorable was that she requested I sign off my emails with ‘Bestest and Blessedest’ just the way she did, which eventually shortened to ‘B and B’; an adorable and innocent request that made her happy – and I readily complied.
It became natural for me to enquire after her if there had been no communication for a while, and she would do the same.
Here is an excerpt from an email she sent me on 25 August 2018 that encapsulates her knowledge and curiosity, as well as the rich life she lead:
Dear Shanzay,
I’m glad you liked my review. I enjoyed writing it. What sort of work did you do in Finland? When I was at teachers’ college in New Zealand, I joined the art and craft specialists’ course, not because I have any talent in that direction, but because I wanted to improve myself. I was all right at designs and abstracts and such things, but that’s all.
Once we went on a week’s field trip to a village called Raurimu, and we had to produce from that 12 pieces of work on the theme of old age and decay. All my classmates were happily drawing, painting and so on, but I spent a lot of time in tears, as I couldn’t do anything. Anyway, what I’d seen and heard in Raurimu sank down into my subconscious, and I produced my 12 pieces when back at college, doing textures, imaginative stuff, abstracts and other such things, and got a B for my work. - Yaa-aay!- I was a good art teacher, as I understood the problems of those who had no talent. I was also able to help my younger daughter, Kazumi, who hadn’t the artistic talent of her elder sister, Kiyomi, who’s now training to be a professional botanical art illustrator.
At her after-wedding party with the late Shaukat Mecklai - c. 1986
I never got on well with our high school art teacher, who couldn’t suffer fools gladly, always mispronounced my name, and sometimes made sarcastic remarks about my work. I met him on the Devonport Ferry a week before I left for Japan as a bride-to-be, and he asked me what class I’d joined at college. You can imagine the look of surprise, happiness and satisfaction that crossed his face when he heard about my class. Little did he or I know that I was destined to become a rather long-winded art critic! I suppose it’s my specialisation at teachers’ college, and my imagination and general knowledge that help me, plus life experience and a love of beauty, a love of knowledge, interest in human psychology and in the influence of the subconscious, and so on.
Meanwhile, thanks so much for your offer of help with getting medicine.
B and B and love to all, hope you had a great Eid,
Noor Jehan
Among many things, it was her curiosity that influenced me greatly. She was curious about my work, commissions, experiences, my dad and his work processes, and what my brother and mother did. Her genuine interest in the work of the artists she was interviewing, careful inspection of their work and motifs and inquiry behind their thought-processes allowed me to learn so much from her. Despite pushing 80, she kept herself well-informed and updated with technology.
On 21 July 2020 she wrote to me, when I was in isolation in my room upon my return to London to pursue my Masters degree:
Hi, and yes I’m a Leo too. By the way, what’s it like being in isolation? What does one do? When I have to spend a few days in bed, as when I broke my hip, I play mind games. I. e., I select a subject and try to think of something within that for each letter of the alphabet, e.g. jewels, cars, types of building, items of clothing, and so on. It keeps me occupied for hours.
Noor Jehan was incredibly resilient and strong. She had many health issues over the years I knew her, but she remained in high spirits and worked towards getting better. Visits to her apartment would be lovely. Over tea, we would talk about her past in New Zealand and Japan, and she would show me the portraits of her NZ and Japanese family and tell me about the objects she had set up in her sunny living room. During one of these visits, I learned about her talents as a photographer and kathak dancer, and that she had performed many times in Pakistan. I was surprised and impressed with her varied talents and dedication to her craft.
The last few times I spoke to Noor Jehan was between 11 January and 13 January 2021, when I gave her a phone call as I hadn’t received a response to my emails. I had learned from her housekeeper that she had been operated a few months earlier and was on complete bedrest. I gave her details about my exhibition at Koel Gallery and asked that she should visit our place as soon as she got better, to see the beautiful flowers in our garden. She sounded weak and a bit resigned.
However, nothing could prepare me for the blow I felt when her good friend and caretaker, Momin, informed me of her demise a few weeks later. When I tearfully re-read all of her emails, I realized there were always clues: In 2018, she mentioned that she may not be here in 2023.
On 21 July 2020, she mentioned, “Anyway, I’ll make it to my birthday on 29th. What a month!” I had once mentioned to her that I would love to interview her for an article on her life because of the wealth of knowledge and interesting experiences she had had. She didn’t respond to that part of my email, and it didn’t come up thereafter. Who knew that the first time I would be writing about her would be for her passing?
May Noor Jehan Mecklai (Jeanette Matsumara) rest in peace, and find many interesting things to be curious about in Heaven. It was a privilege to know her, learn from her, and share my life with her. I am ending this with her own words that she emailed me on 28 May, 2020:
When I’m feeling down, I often sing to myself a children’s hymn from my early youth. And it helps with pain, also. The chorus goes ....
