Memories of Mallika
Srivati offers memories of a great friend after her death at the end of last year
I met Mallika in the mid-1980s. My first impression was how elegant she appeared amongst the majority of us at the London Buddhist Centre who were casual in crumpled clothes and clumpy Birkenstock sandals (which weren’t so fashionable then…)
She was a loving friend and generous mentor, not just to me, but to more people than she would admit. She made newcomers to the centre feel welcome and supported many women to deepen their spiritual practice, usually over a cup of tea and snacks served gracefully in her blue and white sitting room. Mallika didn’t have much money but she never ran out of words of encouragement — she had a knack for inspiring confidence. Before I knew it, I was happily helping with the local housing co-operative, a magazine for Buddhist women and fundraising for creative arts workshops. And that was just the beginning!
Mallika became a Buddhist when she was in her mid-30s. Her Buddhist practice included her family life — she had a husband and three children — and the neighbours on her street in Hackney. Her community spirit meant that she and her husband Iain set up a residents’ association in their neighbourhood. It wasn’t just a committee. She would regularly recruit one neighbour or another and then walk the whole street knocking on every door to see how things were going for everyone. And of course, many of the neighbours would regularly come knocking on her front door and be invited in for a cuppa and a chat.
For the last few years of her life, Mallika developed dementia and began to gradually forget things. At first it was names, then what she’d been doing earlier in the day, then what she had just said a minute ago. In the end she didn’t know she was a Buddhist.
In late 2015, she moved to Aberdeen to live near to one of her daughters. Last year, when she and I went for a walk along the main street there, she suddenly stopped and pointed upward, smiling with delight. When I looked, I saw two Buddha statues being used to decorate the windows of a bar. ‘Do you know who that is?’ I asked. ‘No,’ she replied, still smiling. ‘It’s the Buddha. He’s been really important to you for a very long time.’ She said just ‘Oh’, and we carried on our way.
One of the Buddha’s disciples was called Mallika, the lovely daughter of a garland maker. One day in the public gardens she was so struck by the demeanour and beauty of a particular monk that she gave him all the food in her basket and found herself filled with joy. This monk was the Buddha. He smiled as he foresaw that she would, against all expectation, become the Queen of Kosala that very day. King Pasanadi, riding past the flower gardens, heard Mallika singing and was so enchanted that he made her his Queen that same night. She became a disciple of the Buddha and vowed to always be gentle towards her subjects, to give to the monks and the poor and to never be envious of those who were happy.
Our Mallika was a quiet Queen of this community. She died on 23rd December 2018. I wish more of you had had the chance to meet her. ■
