Brave Heart

When her husband committed suicide, Gurjit Sondhu had three choices. She could return to India, she could buckle beneath the grief or she could manage the farm herself. In the end, the choice was easy. Gurjit revs up the ute and takes Heather Ewart and Karen Michelmore on a tour of her farm.

Gurjit Sondhu is clapping loudly and banging against the side of her white utility.

“Hey! Come on! Move it!” She accelerates gently towards the mob of wayward sheep. There are at least 70 standing there, staring at the vehicle. Gurjit blasts the horn. She’s at home behind the wheel of the dusty ute, even in her stylish checked trousers and linen top. She’s wearing dark sunglasses, pretty red lipstick, and an air of calm. It takes a few encouraging honks and the sheep get the message, slowly turning as one and trotting towards the paddock.

It’s an overcast day and thick white cloud hangs low in the sky just above the gum trees lining the fence. Gurjit loves it here on her property, just out of Harrow, in north-western Victoria. She’s been here 42 years now and despite the tragedy and heartbreak she’s suffered, she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. She even loves her misbehaving sheep, and the Black Angus beef cattle which roam around her 2023-hectare property, Jullundur.

It’s been more than a year since the horrific day when Tari, her husband of 40 years, took his own life after his mental illness spiralled out of control. The pain was immense, but Gurjit has found that one day follows and then another, and you find your way.

“The sheep still needed feeding,” she says resolutely. “Actually, work was the only thing keeping me going. So I put myself into feeding the sheep. I didn’t even think about Tari or anybody else. I thought about the farm. I had a choice – what do I do now? Look after this farm or sit down and just be stressed? I’ve put myself into the work.”