Obituary: T.G. Hemalata (1971-2025)
T.G. Hemalata, fondly known as Hema, was a cherished member of Cividep from 2007 until March 2023. Before joining Cividep full-time, she worked in the garment industry and as a part-time staff member, bringing with her dedication, warmth, and a deep sense of care. At Cividep, she was more than the cook and housekeeper — she was a steady, comforting presence who nurtured colleagues with her simple, delicious meals, humour, and kindness.
Hema passed away in July 2025 at the age of 52, after a prolonged illness. She is survived by her son, husband, sisters, and many friends who loved her dearly.
Her compassion, energy, and generous spirit touched everyone she met. One colleague recalls travelling home with her on long bus rides, sharing stories, laughter, and snacks — memories that will remain forever treasured. Heartfelt tributes have flowed from colleagues, each remembering her warmth, generosity, and the human touch she brought to their lives.
How She Fed Not Just Our Bodies, But Our Hearts
Rekha Chakravarthy
T.G. Hemalata, whom we fondly called Hema, worked with Cividep from 2007 until March 2023, when she went on medical leave. She hoped to return to work ever since, expressing her desire each time her health improved. This desire was mutual — most of us waited and wished for Hema to return. Her presence was familiar, dependable, and comforting; and her food, delicious.
Hema’s everyday lunch spread was a staple of hot rice, chapatis, dry vegetable palya, sambar or rasam, and papad or sandige (fryums). She indulged us with a rotating menu of Kannada cuisine — holige/obbattu, payasa, puliyogare, mavinakayi chitranna, kayi sasive chitranna, bisi bele bath, pakodas and bajjis when it rained, and a variety of chutneys with dose and idli. Sometimes she experimented with paneer or tofu, and on popular demand made egg curry. During Sankranti, she brought homemade ellu bella, and for the harvest festival, she made delicious Pongal. More than the food, it was the love, warmth, and care with which she cooked that nourished us.
Lunch was an eagerly awaited break at Cividep: a time to catch up on books, movies, new music, plays, political developments, social media reels, neighbourhood tales, and personal updates, all while enjoying her hot food. Visitors to Cividep loved it as much as we did.
Hema first joined Cividep around 2003–04 on a part-time basis, after working in the garment industry as an in-line checker at Garment International Private Limited near Lalbagh Road. The role required a sharp eye for detail, knowledge of body measurements, correct methods for recording them, colour vision, and some math skills, along with bundling, sorting, and labelling garment components. Hema excelled at it, mentoring fellow worker and activist Saraswati (now with Munnade Social Organisation), who remembers her as welcoming, supportive, patient, chatty, and always ready to share her lunch.
In Cividep’s early years, Founder Gopinath Parakuni and field activists were actively organising garment workers. Hema, along with Saraswati and others, attended these meetings. After leaving the factory in the early 2000s, she began working in Cividep’s field office in a support role, mainly cooking for field activists and assisting with logistics during residential and strategy meetings.
She became a full-time cook and housekeeper in 2007, when Cividep’s office was in Vijaynagar, later moving to Banaswadi in 2011. The shift meant a long commute from her home in South Bangalore. Her day began at 5 am with household chores, followed by a three-bus journey to reach Banaswadi by 10–10:30 am. After making coffee or tea for everyone, she would head out to buy vegetables and groceries for lunch. She left at 4 pm for the return journey, only to start another round of cooking and cleaning at home. As Cividep’s staff grew, she cooked for up to 15 people but still preferred this over working in a garment factory.
Hema with the office team
Hema with her colleagues
For me personally, Hema was among my first friends when I joined Cividep in 2016. Since I also lived in South Bangalore, we travelled together part of the way home. Our two-hour rides were filled with conversations about family, work, bus routes, timings, and strategies for finding seats.
Hema was close to her three sisters and often shared stories about their lives. She was proud of her son, Abhi (Abhishek), and wanted to see him settled and happy. She loved travelling, discovering new places, and joining office trips. On our final team outing with her at Camp Shristi in 2022, she joined morning walks, hiked, acted in a spontaneous play, and enjoyed herself thoroughly. She also loved chaat, especially a plate of hot masala puri on her way home after the last bus.
In mid-2024, Hema joined us for a colleague’s farewell lunch, looking cheerful, energetic, and hopeful about a full recovery. She asked about resuming work, saying she was bored at home. When some of us saw her again in May 2025, her health had declined, and her spirits were low. She passed away about two months later.
We miss Hema. Her love, warmth, and kindness stay with us.
My lasting memory of Hema is of her sturdy, stable presence at the time of my joining Cividep. Along with food, she also served small doses of Cividep’s history to the fresh crop of new joiners in 2015. Through her, we got glimpses into what people were like when they were not working. We learned that there was once a trek in Coorg which ended in a night of drunken revelry — Hema included! We also came to know that when Cividep opened its first office, there was a small office pooja and everyone was served upma.
Why were these bits of stories important? They gave a very different view of what our workplace was like — very unlike what we were used to. More human, perhaps. That’s what Hema’s presence came to mean for me in my ten years here.
— Deepika Rao
Hema was the heart of our office: kind, caring, full of fun, and deeply thoughtful. She remembered every staff member and their families, always checking in with genuine concern. Even the children felt her warmth; she made sure everyone felt seen, well fed, cared for, and valued.
Quietly, she celebrated our joys and comforted our sorrows. Her kindness was constant – never loud, but always deeply felt. Even in illness, she asked after others before herself. She had hoped to meet some of us one last time, but that wish remained unfulfilled.
We have lost more than a colleague. Her legacy of compassion lives on in all of us.
— Antony Raju
Hema Aunty cared for all of us in the most thoughtful and quiet ways. She wasn’t just someone who cooked for us at work — she cared in ways that were deeply personal. Every other day, she would check in with me about my family, how my parents were doing, and how my studies were going. She remembered things I had shared weeks earlier and always followed up. There was comfort in those small exchanges and genuine care in her words. She knew each of us not just by name, but by our lives, our families, and the things that mattered to us.
She also remembered exactly how each of us liked our food and tea or coffee, and made sure everyone was looked after. On festivals, she prepared special meals so we could feel the joy of celebration, even in the middle of a busy workday.
Even the last time I saw her, when she wasn’t keeping well, her first question was still about my family. That was who she was — someone who always put others first. Hema Aunty will always be remembered.
— Kaveri M.T