(By Yehudit Jessica Singer) Nearly two years ago, I stood in an air-conditioned Mumbai kitchen talking to Rivki Holtzberg. She was serving cholent for the guests in the Chabad House, and I looked around, recalling that Shabbat so many years ago, when I spent my first-ever Shabbat with another Lubavitch couple on Long Island. I was seven years old at the time, and didn’t know mu ch about shabbat. Yet, there I was, many years later, standing on the other side of the world, offering to send Mrs. Holtzberg kosher food packages from my home in Jerusalem. Oh have times changed indeed.

The terrible tragedy in Mumbai has left us all shaken, and I feel the need to share some memories about the couple, since my research colleagues and I had the opportunity to spend Shabbat with them. Before I speak touch upon the Holtzbergs, let us first get a glimpse into environment in which the Holtzberg’s lived.

Most Westerners who travel to Mumbai are probably overwhelmed by the surroundings. Cars, horns, taxis, beggars, physical deformities, auto rickshaws, pollution, stray dogs, tin huts, contaminated water, homeless people sleeping on the streets, and at night, whole families sleeping on the sidewalks…next to the stray dogs.
Not easy sights to stomach by any means.

Paralleled to the poverty is the gorgeous Taj Hotel, luxury apartment buildings, a billion-dollar Bollywood industry, a booming financial district, international tourists, spirituality-seekers, international businesspeople and more.

In an environment with a growing economic polarization and tremendous religious diversity, there is certainly what to intrigue the Western mind. From a Jewish perspective in particular, one of the most fascinating elements of India is that there is (or should I say “has been”) no history of anti-Semitism.

Once we grasp the tolerant atmosphere in which the Jews of India have lived, we can understand  more clearly why the horrid tragedy in the Chabad House has shaken the entire world. Yet again, this was an attack on the Western (or Westernizing) world by fanatic Muslim terrorists, and I have no doubt that out of the millions of people who live in Bombay, that the Jews were targeted.

I first heard about the Holtzberg’s from some of the other Jewish community leaders in Mumbai. One man in particular, Rav Yehoshua Kolet, head of the organization Hazon Eli, had told us that he had partnered with Rav Holtzberg—who was a shochet—to deliver kosher meat to the Jewish community in the suburbs of Mumbai. For those who would otherwise not buy kosher chicken (Indian Jews do not typically eat cow meat out of respect for their Hindu neighbors), Rav Kolet and Rav Holtzberg actually set up a home-delivery system to enable families to eat kosher. In addition to teaching Torah classes, supervising a kosher ‘catering’ service for travelers, slaughtering chickens, an d overseeing the emissaries in other parts of India, the 29 year-old rabbi also managed to coordinate this delivery service for Shabbat chicken, and was even comfortable entertaining a diverse range of shabbat guests from around the world.

Rivki, the rabbi’s wife, I met on shabbat after shul. Unlike many other Chabad emissaries around the world, they did not establish their own synagogue, but rather, prayed with the community members and visitors at the local Baghdadi synagogue. We walked from the Knesset Eliyahu synagogue in the neighborhood of Colaba, and joined about 30-40 people for lunch in the Beit Chabad- which then consisted just of the Holtzberg’s apartment in the Nariman House. Keep in mind that 30-40 people for lunch was considered a ‘quaint’ meal for the Holtzbergs! They were used to 70+!

Rav Holtzberg, young and energetic, sat at one of the tables and offered Torah insights. In a crowd mixed with locals from the Bene Israel community, businessmen hailing from Tennessee to Sydney, some young post-army Israeli travelers, and the university researchers, generating a comfortable atmosphere wasn’t exactly the easiest task.

Rivki was mostly in the kitchen, and talked with the female guests, while a caretaker stayed with the baby (Moishe) in a side room. I remember asking Rivki if she needed anything—perhaps I could send them care packages from Israel when I returned. She answered that they had everything they needed, thank you so much for the offer, we’re really fine.

My interaction with them, albeit short, was extremely memorable. They were kind, warm and fulfilled their mission with joy. Now that I think of it, there was something about this sense of joy. It was natural; a feeling of satisfaction and inner peace that comes with the confidence that of fulfilling your prescribed role in life. More than that, Rivki emanated a sense of geniality that only comes with giving something precious to people you care for… For Rivki, that precious gift was herself. She opened her home and provided an inspiring Shabbat experience; the first Shabbat that many of her guests ever experienced. (Note: It is actually miraculous that the attack did not occur on a Friday afternoon or Shabbat, when the amount of victims would have been multiplied exponentially.)

And so like Abraham and Sarah, the traditional husband and wife super team who opened their tent to whoever came their way, Rav Gav riel and Rivki Holtzberg opened their home to whoever came through Mumbai.

The atrocity that these evil terrorists committed defiled and exploited them. This insanity has left two beautiful young boys orphans. The only comforts that I have at this moment is that the undeserving husband and wife died together, and they died in the midst of their service to the Jewish people and to G-d.

This week, as we collectively sit shiva for the loss of six Israelis and mourn the loss of all those killed, I cannot help but wonder what this is all  is supposed to mean.  What do we do with this palpable sadness?

An acquaintance who runs the ladies’ mikveh in Mumbai relayed that there is talk to take that 5-story Chabad House, and turn it into a 10-story building. Perhaps this is the legacy that legacy of the Holtzbergs.

They were a young, modest, yet super inspiring couple who established a thriving Chabad in Mumbai. They not only lived their mission of education, spirituality and warmth, but they died in the midst of their mission. Now, the community is taking their legacy and building something bigger with it: resilience and growth to the finest degree. This latter part of course, falls upon us, those who remain in their wake. Let us learn, keep growing, never forget, and, in Rivki’s spirit, bring light to all who come your way….

המקום ינחם את כל עם ישראל. אמן.