Never say die: That's the motto Tasneem Zakaria Mehta lives by

Mehta tells Anjuli Bhargava that it is possible to push many boundaries even after coming from a "ritually conservative" background

Ismail Merchant, Shyam Benegal, Govind Nihalani, Partap Sharma, Pupul Jayakar, Rahul Bajaj, Martand Singh, P. Chidambaram. The daughter of Rafiq Zakaria, wife of former Shell CEO and current chairman of Brookings India Vikram Mehta and sister of Fareed Zakaria — Tasneem Zakaria Mehta — has mentioned so many big names to me in the first 25 minutes of our conversation that I wonder if she knows any regular people.

I can vouch for the fact that she is not dropping names, just recounting the life she has lived. Her life has been peppered with personalities – a by-product of being the child of her parents, the wife of her husband. That said, Mehta has a number of undeniable achievements: she is vice-chairperson of Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage (Intach), one of India’s best-known art historians and curators and the honorary director of the Bhau Daji Lad (earlier known as Victoria and Albert) Museum in Mumbai. 

We are meeting at The Table in Mumbai’s Colaba area, right next to the Gateway of India, one of the sites she has worked on. She’s a regular at The Table. We order quickly and decide to share the dishes.

Growing up in a “ritually conservative but intellectually unconventional” environment, she pushed many boundaries. An avid reader and a compulsive doodler with a passion for textiles, Mehta had zeroed in on a career either as an artist or a writer but her father didn’t agree, arguing that art could at best be a hobby. 

A product of Cathedral, Mumbai, and Sir JJ School of Art, she flirted with theatre, worked with the Junior Statesman and got some modelling offers that she decided to do for a lark, much to the horror of her parents. Modelling assignments turned into film offers — at which point her parents put their foot down. Fearing that marriage may be the next step her parents would envision, Mehta decided to head overseas.

Although she had set her eyes on Paris, fate brought her to New York in the mid-1970s. A close family friend, Ismail Merchant, under whose guidance she was placed, brought New York alive in a fashion that no place could equal. She got a “taste” of the art, theatre and literary scene courtesy Merchant — known also for his culinary expertise. “New York was a game changer for me. Heady to say the least!” she says. She was 21, financially independent and in charge of her own life. For a young, Muslim girl from a reasonably conservative family, that experience was both novel and liberating. It also inculcated a discipline for work that has stayed with her for life.

After working at Bloomingdale’s for three years and saving up money to pay for her first semester, Mehta won a full scholarship to finish her bachelor degree in political philosophy at Columbia University. Columbia introduced her to a new world but also to her future husband and the next few years went by in London, Delhi and Egypt. At no point did Mehta let time just slip by. In Delhi, she earned a master’s degree in literature and a post-graduate diploma with Christie’s in modern art in London. From 2004-08, she completed her research on cultural institutions in India during the 19th century through the School of Art and Aesthetics at JNU.

The food arrives and demands attention. The soba salad is among the best I have ever had. The zucchini spaghetti and a small Italian cheese dish she requests — that doesn’t appear to be on the menu — are delectable. The avocados for our fourth course have been flown in from New Zealand, the maître d’ informs us, and I tell myself the chef clearly knows what to do with them once they hit Indian shores. I can see why she chose The Table: food is an art here, the presentation as appealing as the taste.

It was 1994 when Mehta found herself back in her beloved city. As she speaks about Old Bombay, she brings alive a picture of the city with sea-facing colonial bungalows and historical monuments that I have seen only in old drawings and postcards. A picture she has since worked to keep alive through restoration and preservation.

In 1995, she joined Intach as convenor of the Mumbai chapter and one of the big projects she landed was the Elephanta caves. At the time, Unesco had threatened to de-list the site. “Families were living, cooking and washing in the caves. Children playing cricket and climbing on the heads of the statues to be photographed!” she recalls.

Two years of relentless work went into the restoration of the site. Finally in 1999, a performance by danseuse Alarmel Valli presented the derelict site in a new and spectacular light to Mumbai’s who’s who. She spends a few minutes describing the festival and the beauty of the site. 

I interrupt. I had been to Elephanta just the day before. The experience was nightmarish —the site ripe for a stampede — and one I would never repeat. Beauty is a far cry.

That is the tragedy of the system. Within two years of the transformation, Elephanta went back to its old state. “The state is simply so corrupt,” she says, clarifying that she’s not talking specifically of political parties here. No matter which government it is, it displays a serious lack of vision and no will to change.

Her strong belief in the state establishment was shaken while working closely with the government. “22 years of working pro-bono and with the state have disabused me of all my old idealism and notions,” she rues. “I am now convinced the only way forward is in conjunction with the private sector.”

If the apathy of the state is the bad news, the “paradigm shift” in the corporate sector is the good news. “Corporates in India are no longer narrowly focused. Their success and survival depends on their social context and their ability to carry society along with them,” she argues. She’s seen a distinct change in the private sector’s willingness to come forward with a helping hand. The only reason she managed to bring the Bhau Daji Lad museum — the restoration done by her on this museum is the jewel in her crown — back to life is thanks to the private sector. At Bhau Daji Lad, other than the primary donor Jamnalal Bajaj Foundation, there’s a long list of private donors.

There are only a few sites in Mumbai Mehta hasn’t worked on. In 1998, she researched and worked on the documentation for Matheran to be declared a “heritage” hill station, saving it from the fate of other hill stations across India. In 2004-05 alone, she worked on three projects in Mumbai: the restoration of the Afghan church, getting the Chhatrapati Shivaji terminus declared a World Heritage site (she wrote the submission document) and the Gateway of India precinct project.

For every success, she’s lived with failure. In 2006, much work went into restoring the Jinnah House but litigation left it incomplete. The Diversity Museum for Mumbai in 2011 took time and effort but the project is yet to see the light of day. Failure is frustrating as it is usually due to factors beyond her control. She’s fully aware that in certain Mumbai circles she’s often viewed as more of a liability than an asset — “the oh no, she’s back again” kind of feeling.

As we chat, I realise that although Mehta has been focused on Mumbai, she’s had her eye on art projects and museums across India. A trustee of the Kochi Art Biennale, she was approached to take over as director of National Museum in Delhi in 2013, an assignment she refused for personal reasons. She has however been on the board of the National Gallery of Modern Art, National Institute of Design and the Salar Jung Museum in Hyderabad. We rue the wasted potential of Salar Jung for a few minutes.

As our lunch draws to an end, she tells me that Union railway minister Piyush Goyal has recently asked her to work on converting the Chhatrapati Shivaji terminal into a museum. She’s also busy giving final touches to an ambitious expansion plan for Bhau Daji Lad and toying with the idea of studying philosophy.

Never say die is the motto this lady lives by.