At merely 17, Vinder Balbir was newly married to a man she barely knew, living in a foreign country, signing a 35-year lease on a restaurant. Her story is extraordinary. This should not be so surprising, as Vinder herself is no ordinary woman.
Vinder's Story
Photo by Karin Leubbers
Acclimate, November 2009
Vinder was forced to grow up early when a spray of bullets from an M-16 hit her family, wounding her and killing both of her parents. It was the tumultuous late-1960s in Malaysia, and her grandfather was left with the burden of raising Vinder and her sister. He decided that private school would be the best place for her to mature to womanhood. So, Vinder spent the rest of her school years at Sacred Heart Convent School in Malaaca.
Upon graduating from high school at 16, Vinder knew, according to her cultural heritage, it was time to think about marriage. She had aunts living in Bangkok, and her grandfather agreed to let her move here, provided her aunts help to find her a husband.
Her aunts took their role as matchmaker seriously. They presented many suitors, but none seemed to fit—until she met Mr. Balbir. Vinder knew immediately that she'd met her mate when, in her aunt's living room in view of everyone (custom prohibited them from meeting in private), he simply proclaimed, "I can't give you anything but love." He had no money to offer; his small textile business wasn't earning much. They were married two days later.
Starting life as Mrs. Balbir
Vinder had always been a gifted and creative cook. She loved it, but in Catholic school she had learned to prepare only Italian food. Her husband, a traditional Sikh Indian, ate only Indian food. So every morning, he lay out the ingredients for his lunch and taught Vinder to cook an Indian dish. He was a patient teacher, and she learned one new dish a day until she was cooking Indian food as though she'd done it all her life.
But cooking daily meals for her husband did not content her. Vinder knew they needed money and the role of housewife didn't interest her. She had learned to speak fluent English growing up—rare among Indians in Bangkok in the 1970s—so she began to teach English lessons privately in her home for 50 baht an hour. She realized that teaching came naturally to her so, combining this talent with her love for cooking, Vinder decided to begin teaching private cooking classes, too. Her first student, she recalls with a laugh, was a 65-year-old man whom she taught to cook blueberry cheesecake, pizza, and garlic bread! The classes soon started becoming popular among expats and locals alike. "My black forest cake was famous," she declares with a smile.
With her ever-advancing culinary mastery of Indian food and a bit of money she had saved from cooking classes, Vinder decided to open an Indian restaurant. When she first suggested the idea to her husband, he exclaimed: "No wife of mine will open a restaurant!" But Vinder, charming yet cunning, said to her husband: "We'll call it Mrs. Balbir—your name! If I don't behave, we will drop the s and call it Mr. Balbir!" Whether duped or seduced by his young bride, Mr. Balbir granted her wish, and Vinder was on her way to fulfilling her passion.
She was 17 years old. In all of Bangkok, there were only three other Indian restaurants. Vinder chose Sukhumvit Soi 11—then considered out of the way and deserted (aside from a few tailor shops and the Ambassador Hotel)—because the rent was cheap. The real estate terms were different then, and she was required to sign a 35-year lease. At 17, Vinder committed herself for a period that was twice as long as she had yet been alive.
In the early days, business was slow so, with the help of a small staff, Vinder performed every task at the restaurant. "At times I was the chef, others, the waitress. My husband worked too, as the cashier or deliveryman. Together we persevered," she says. For six years the restaurant made little money and they relied on the income from her cooking classes to sustain their simple hand-to-mouth lifestyle. Then one day, an unexpected declaration that chicken tikka masala was now an official dish of England gave them a little push: "By then, we'd already had a reputation among British expats, and I could speak both English and Thai. Soon, Thais started to venture into Indian food, too," she recalls. A mention in the Lonely Planet guidebook ensued, and business began to take off.
"I was so young! No one could believe I was the owner. They all thought I was the daughter of the owner!" she recalls amused. (She still looks much younger than her years.)
Tragedy strikes again
In the midst of the hard work and nascent prosperity, the Balbirs were blessed with a daughter. Vinder worked through her pregnancy, and for years, life continued to improve. Then, when her daughter was 11 years old, tragedy struck once again. Her beautiful healthy daughter caught a virus and suffered kidney failure. She spent three months in a coma before passing away. Vinder had lost both her parents and her first child.
She was devastated, could not focus, and could not work. They shut the restaurant for a few months and the bills began to pile up. Then her staff (whom she still refers to as her "angels") decided to work without salary. They revived the business and paid the utility bills until Vinder managed to return. Some of those loyal staff members still work for her today.
Once again, the Balbirs were blessed with a child—this time a son. But, once again, tragedy encroached upon their lives and took their son after just a few short days of life.
The sun comes out
Eventually, Vinder and her husband were blessed with another son. "We called him 'Sunny' because I knew the sun had come back into my life; and it has kept shining ever since," Vinder says with unmistakable happiness.
Business was booming: Mrs. Balbir's was featured on the BBC and in the New York Times, bringing customers in from around the world. Vinder started teaching her cooking classes on the second floor of the small restaurant, rather than at home. She taught Sting's personal chef in addition to other celebrity chefs. She advised Thai Airlines on their in-flight meals between Thailand and India, attracting even Indian tourists to sample her fare. "The restaurant began to feel smaller and smaller as the name grew bigger and bigger!" she says.
Part of the restaurant's charm was its small, homey atmosphere. Customers wanted the quaint Mrs. Balbir's they'd heard about while Vinder grappled with space constraints, unsure how to proceed. Necessity forced her hand when her landlord of 30 years sold the property to a new owner before Vinder had an opportunity to buy it herself. She had no choice but to find new digs. For five years, she searched but could not find a new, suitable location. A mere four months before her 35-year lease expired, feeling hopeless, she came to terms with the probability that they would have to close their doors at least temporarily. Then, out walking late at night, Vinder stumbled upon the perfect location only a few doors down from the restaurant's original location.
The new Mrs. Balbir's is bigger and brighter during the day, filled with natural light from big windows and high ceilings. New cutlery and dishes sparkle, and there's a wonderful vitality about the place. As before, upstairs provides a studio for her cooking classes where Vinder instructs curious cooks from Bangkok and around the globe. The food is still exactly the same: delicious and affordable.
Finding her purpose
Life has thrown both tragedy and great blessings her way, and, throughout, Vinder has always looked for her purpose and sought meaning in every relationship. Many women, she says, come to Bangkok and feel empty. "The smart ones join a group or volunteer. Through giving of themselves, they can fill that void."
She now knows that her purpose is expressed through her food. "Food heals people. It brings friends together. I teach cooking; I have a gift for creativity and a passion for Indian food," she says. When she sees her food engender happiness or her cooking students bring joy to their families by sharing what they've learned, then she feels she's made a difference and has given of herself to the universe. Her accomplishments have heightened her sense of responsibility to others. "Once you become successful, then it's all about giving back," Vinder says. "If you don't give back, you lose everything." To those who have helped her over the 35 years she says, "I'm grateful. I'm so grateful."