These exerts
are taken from the dairy of my father who served in Indian Air Force. His broad
out look towards life inspired many people like me. On this father’s day I proudly salute him and
remember him by producing a few of his thoughts and experiences from his diary.
In these days of intolerance I think it is a good read.
In 1949 I reached Delhi, four
months after my marriage. There was a
small unit of (Signals) our office in Gurgoan, near Palam Airport. That place was full of trees, resembling a
forest. There was a channel to London in
those days and other wireless communication channels were connected to
different command headquarters in India. Transmitters were at Gurgaon, but
operation was from Delhi. The area that we stayed was very quiet and
pleasant. We used to go on the main road
for a stroll in the evening. There were
no hotels. To quench our thirst we had
to go to the houses in the village by the side of the road for water. Instead of water we were offered milk or
sugarcane juice. They never accepted
money and spoke very affectionately.
After the partition there
were refugees everywhere from Pakistan.
They dwelled wherever they found place, by the side of the road or in
the Tombs. I was surprised to see them move from one place to another. The person riding cycle carried a cot full of
household items on his head, on the front side of the rod one or two children
and at the rear seats his wife with a child and few more items.
Cycle was the only conveyance
in those days. We have not heard of scooter.
Only the VVIP’s had the cars. After 6 or 7 in the evening there were no
buses.
Roads were wide and clean
like Royal Pathways. There were thick trees by the side of the road. It was very scary to go out alone during the
night. Summers were very pleasant. There were big bungalows surrounded by vast
open area on all the sides. Fox used to
come and hoot in the night.
Just then people from South
India started to come and settle in places like Lodi Colony and Karolbagh. With
the passage of time hotels came up.
There was a South Indian Hotel in Connaught place. We used to roam around and visit places on
our bicycle. People were very honest and
faithful.
The tough part was to get
daily use items from grocery store because of language problem. Upon knowing
our difficulty the shop keeper would allow us inside to identify the items we
needed. Most of the names we found from
him and noted in our language. My wife
had an advantage of learning the language from our neighbours who were (Mr.
Chenna) from Kashmir. He had two
daughters. My wife learnt Hindi from
them. Later on she even learnt Kashmiri
language.
Mr. Chenna and his wife were
very nice people. They were quite and soft spoken. We became good friends. My wife used to share our Andhra food and
specials with them. He used to always say “You don’t eat Non-veg; my wife
prepares meat very deliciously in different varieties. She will specially
prepare for you. Just taste and
see. You cannot make out it is non-
veg”. I used to drink tea in their
house and accept snacks if offered. But
my wife never used to drink even water.
Chenna was a junior officer
in a Govt. Dept. His father was an
officer in J&K Govt. One day
Chenna’s father sent ducks from Kashmir by Air.
It seems they are very tasty to eat. I left for office in the morning as
usual. When I reached home food was not
prepared. She (My wife) took bath just then and got water to cook food. The reason for it was Mrs.Chenna cleaned her ducks
near one tap and did something with them at another tap. We had two taps in
compound and both were used by her and my wife could not go near them. After Mrs.Chenna finished her work and went
inside my wife cleaned the whole place again. She first used some floor to
clean, then some detergent and then finally she used phenol. Finally she again cleaned with soap and then
took bath and filled water. This she did
after Mrs. Chenna already cleaning the place.
The whole process was watched
by Mrs.Chenna. She narrated the whole
story to Mr.Chenna after he came from office in the evening. He came to me and apologized for the
inconvenience created due to them. He
further said that his father would keep sending like this in winters and they
would use only one tap in future and would not go to the other tap. He repented
for what happened that day.
There is another interesting
aspect in him. Irrespective of its date everybody’s birthday in their house was
celebrated on the 1st of the following month. While coming from office he used to get a
sweet packet, before entering the house he used to call his wife out and ask her to wash her
hands and come. Then tell her to give the packet to my wife.
You find such good people a
rare commodity. I was in Adampore in 1960. I
had a Sikh friend named Randhawa.
Once we had holidays for two
days and I wanted to visit Amritsar. Randhawa said “my village is near
Amritsar, we can spend the night at my place and visit Amritsar the next day.”
We left by bus and reached his village by evening. Villages anywhere in India
are the same – mud walls, muddy compounds, tiled roofs, etc. His parents spoke
to me with great love and affection. We freshened up near the hand pump. Tea
was served- not in cups or glasses but in brass ‘Lotas’ which is approximately
6”in height. ¼ of it had tea-decoction, another ¼-sugar and the rest was filled
with milk. It reminded me of SriRamNavami festival at my place. (Jaggery mixed
water known as “Panakam” is distributed to all the devotees on Ram Navami day).
It reminded me of that panakam.
At 8 ‘o’ clock in the night
an old man came and spoke to me in Punjabi, I did not understand. Randhawa said
‘my grandfather, he has just come from the fields. He is asking how you are.’ I got up folded my hands in Namaste and told
“changa hai” (am fine). He understood my problem with language so Randhawa
became the mediator.
We sat for dinner. Fresh farm
vegetables, fresh field wheat, fresh home-made butter, ghee and thick milk and
curd from cows and buffaloes. Delicious taste- indescribable. When I was
eating, I heard giggles of laughter of male and female voices, especially from
behind. Feeling shy and embarrassed to
turn back and see, I asked Randhawa “what’s the matter?” he said, “One Madrasi
man has come to my home, people in the neighborhood have come to see how he
looks. The reason for their laugh is
different, we all eat rotis while drinking sugarcane juice and you are drinking
water while eating, that’s It.” he said laughing. I felt they are looking me as
an animal in the Zoo. Then he said “whatever you feel or think, you are the
first person to visit my village from down south.”
Next morning after refreshing
ourselves, we sat for breakfast. Like we serve rice down south, they kept a
small mountain of Halva in the middle of the plate, the ghee slowly dripping to
all sides of the plate (like an island). It was very sweet. Randhawa and others
were gulping mounds into their mouth while chatting and drinking tea. I
couldn’t eat or drink. These Punjabis are well built, tall and are above
6ft. They eat well. They are also
hard-working and not lazy like people in our place (state). People like
Randhawa working in our office take leave to go to their villages and work in
the fields during planting and harvesting time.
We left for Amritsar. The city is very good. We reached Golden temple. We left our shoes
outside the gate. We have to leave all
our belongings and go inside. You may
leave money, gold, locked or unlocked.
They keep it very safely and handover on returning back. When you go inside you have to cover your
head. They all have turbans. I covered my head with a large handkerchief.
It is very quiet and peaceful
inside. I sprinkled water from the Sarover
on my head. Randhawa had shown me Harminder Saheb and the rooms for the
pilgrims to stay etc. We had food in the
lungar. I enjoyed the serenity and the
simple people around.
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