Four faiths under one roof: women of four different religions live and work together in Jyoti Kanetkar's home in Pune, India.

When Vijaya came to us, she was a beautiful young bride, aged about 18, who had been beaten by her mother-in-law and sister-in-law for the misfortune of losing her first son. We took her into our household as a daily maid. She stayed, and went on to have four more children, three of whom have lived.

No middle-class Indian household can operate without servants and ours, with my parents-in-law, husband, son and myself, was no exception. But ours is an unusual home, because although my family are Brahmin Hindus, the other members of our household come from three other religions.

Vijaya was the first to arrive. She is illiterate and is one of millions who have embraced the faith of neo-Buddhism in order to escape the stigma of untouchability. In our home, she touches everything--including the silver vessels which I, as a high-caste Hindu, use in my devotions.

Lata arrived next--a plump and pretty Seventh Day Adventist, who had left her husband after her second child died through his carelessness. Lata, who is literate, became our cook. Like Vijaya, she became part of the family: she takes as much interest in my son in distant America as I do in hers.

Some years later Sultana, a petite, flamboyant, Sunni Muslim divorcee with three children breezed into our lives. She wanted to become my assistant in my beauty consultancy. We were a little thoughtful--a Muslim in this Hindu Brahmin household? How would she manage, how would we bridge the differences?

When we learnt that her husband had beaten her severely every night of her married life, we decided to try. For three years she came and went every day. And then one day, like a wounded bird seeking shelter, she crept into the bosom of our family and has stayed ever since.

So now we have this household with Hindu Brahmins, a Sunni Muslim, a Seventh Day Adventist and a neo-Buddhist. I have left out the gardener, who is a Maratha, for ease of comprehension.

How do we manage? Like the universe, I think, which is in a constant state of change. We enjoy our different traditions as we celebrate the Hindu festival of Divali, eat shir kurma on the Muslim festival of 'Id, when all my clients bring gifts for Sultana, share Mahanirvaan Day with Vijaya and see Lata and Sultana through their Lent and Ramadan fasts. Sultana unhesitatingly and lovingly prepares the milk, flowers and incense for my devotions and then prays on the beautiful silk rug with its picture of Mecca which I have found for her.

Lata blithely cooks Divali delicacies for us and then shares her Christmas cake when the time comes. She makes efforts to bridge the great food divide between Hindus and Muslims. My family are strict vegetarians--eggs are the highest we go--which is hard for Sultana. Even a simple thing like plain rice we cook without salt, and she has to have salt added while it is cooking. Brahmins add sugar to their cooking; Muslims do not. So sometimes we put rice or vegetables aside for her, and cook them differently; and sometimes we eat rice cooked with salt, or spicy, Muslim-style vegetables. All of life is learning, as they say.

The real problem is not our differences of religion and culture, but our human nature--times when egotism, arrogance and pride get the better of us and we flare up.

Early in our relationship, Sultana arrived at work resplendent in a shiny shocking-pink outfit, with chunky costume jewellery, which I considered in garish bad taste. I felt she would lower the tone of my salon and I scolded her. She burst into tears and told me that her cousin's wife had lent her the clothes and jewellery so that she would be well-dressed for her job.

This brought me up short and I waited apprehensively for my clients' reaction. It turned out to be one of amused tolerance. In time the clients began to give her more chunky, dangling jewellery. Everyone is enjoying the situation.

In the many years that we have lived together we have always come to a peaceful path through our differences, because deep down we love and need each other.