DAY 102 – Jaipur to Ahmedabad

Friends,

I had promised Sudhir last evening that I would drop by at his house by 6.30 am for ‘bed’ tea. I was there on time as I could not sleep a wink in the night. The boys in the ORH provided hot water as confirmed the previous night. The splitting headache was certainly not the right companion for the longest leg I have undertaken during the journey. At little less than 700 kms I was a bit apprehensive as I started out. Sudhir stays in the new Jaipur area, which is extremely well laid out with wide roads, excellent street lighting and clear sign posts. Hence, with the directions given by Sudhir I reached without have to retrace. Sudhir and his Man Friday served me a hot cup of tea that masked the headache a bit. By 7.15 I was well and truly on the NH8.

I took the NH8 from Jaipur to Kishengarh, then NH79 up to Udaipur bye pass and linked back for NH8 to Ahmedabad. If I say that the road was excellent it will not be appreciated unless I mention the distance covered and the time used up - 680 kms in a half hour over 8 hours, which included three breaks covering 45 minutes! The wide roads, superb surfacing, good road discipline, regular sign posts and an early morning start ensured fantastic speeds. At times I deliberately slowed down as the odometer registered 120 kms plus.

Manoj Shasidharan is SSP Rajkot. I knew him as a student in Chennai when I was in the Railways. I only had to request for logistics support in Ahmedabad and the red carpet was laid out. I was provided a ‘must do/should see’ list too. He made arrangements for stay in the IPS Mess and detailed Sunil Nair as my ‘guide’ during the stay. Sunil met me en route to the city and piloted me to the place of stay. The IPS Mess is excellently located on the banks of the Sabarmati River. The premises were enlarged by reclaiming some of the river front through municipal landfill. In due course this property will benefit from the Sabarmati River Waterfront Project of the Municipal Corporation. Watching the sun setting with the peacocks and hens foraging their meal is in itself a calming experience. I decided to leave the sight seeing for tomorrow and try out typically Gujarati food for dinner. Sunil agreed to do the needful.

A few members of the Ahmedabad Kerala Samajam, including its President, Mr Mohanan Nambiar, came over to the Mess to welcome me to the city and to interact for a while.  It was told to me that the estimated Malayalee population in Ahmedabad is about a lakh. They had only positive things to mention about Gujarat, particularly the governance of Modi. What astonishes them is the fact that not even a man day of work is lost due to labour or political disturbances. They told me how Gujarat worked when the BJP had called for a nation wide strike recently. There are no posters, flags or banners of political parties or trade unions to be seen anywhere. When one of the Ministers of the present Kerala cabinet visited Ahmedabad he bemoaned the ‘lack of political awareness’ among the Gujaratis and blamed it for the non-use of democratic means of protest. The worthy did not appreciate that people are encouraged to work and make surpluses instead of ‘protesting’ and distributing poverty.

To get to Vishaala we drove through the Dilli Darwaza area (the market signifies the season – now the market is full of stuff for the kite festival) and Juhapura, which is referred to as ‘Mini Pakistan’ for the overwhelming Muslim population. The number of cars outside the restaurant indicated the popularity of the eatery. Sunil had done the reservation and hence we did not have to wait to be allotted a table. As we entered the restaurant I noticed the mounted photographs of Indian cricketers, who had visited the eatery when India played in Ahmedabad recently. There’s a lot happening at the Vishaala; it’s not just a matter of food, it’s about enjoying the experience. Sunil, Shanker (the driver) and I visited the puppet show where we witnessed a most fascinating show of folk puppetry. The highlight was the leaping snake which almost saw me back in the car. The folk singers kept us entertained while we downed the welcome drink. Then it was time for the main ‘show’ – the food. One is expected to squat on the floor in front of a low table. That was a challenge for me. I got hold of a short stool and made myself comfortable to enjoy the local cuisine. The plate was soon filled with Tepla, Bhakri, Rokla, Dhokla, Sukhdi, beans curry, papad, pickle and Phulwadi.  Small containers of cabbage and peas, kadi, salads, buttermilk, chutneys and butter bedecked the table. I started with teplas plastered with ghee and worked through the fine meal, leaving the kadi and buttermilk to be enjoyed by the others at the table. Extra helpings of tepla, beans curry and sukhdi fell prey to the enzymes in due course. Kichdi mixed in ghee was washed down with jalebis!  A bowl of ice cream and mukhwas (saunf) to freshen the breath were the last two in the long list of wolfed items. The restaurant has a Museum of Utensils, ‘live’ weaving of silk saris and stoles, sale of handicrafts and a display of the various awards the restaurant has won, and deservingly. The dinner at Vishaala was a completely new, mouth watering and enzyme arousing gastronomic experience.

We wound our way back to the IPS Mess after visiting the Manek Chowk, which is reputed to be the second biggest gold market, after Mumbai. This market transforms into a food court after 7 pm. The shops close and the frontage is used to hawk fast food – all veg. The place is jam packed even on a working day. I was told that the shopkeepers are paid rental for using the frontage of their shops after business hours. A crowded schedule is in store for the morrow.

DAY 101 – In Jaipur

Friends,

I have completed 100 days of the journey, a memorable century indeed. It is memorable for the wonderful people I met, the glorious places I visited, the educative and informative discussions I had, the renewed relationships, the great foods I enjoyed, the comfortable rest houses I stayed in, the cultural diaspora I got exposed to and revision of geography lessons taken in school. All this was made possible by an absolutely unique combination of friends, batch mates, relations and acquaintances. I thank each and every one of them for the unforgettable experiences.

I have mentioned in the past posts that the Indian Railways is my third parent and railwaymen are my extended family. Every visit to a railway environment provides an opportunity to live this out. Deepak Dave provided me with one such when he asked me over for the farewell lunch organized in honor of Vinay Mittal. The setting was perfect. The Kothari Farms is a sprawling landscaped farm house; the sun was out after many days of ‘rest’. Traffic Officers and HoDs turned out in large numbers to thank Mittal for his contributions to NWR and wish him a successful stint in SER. The Farewell function was also an occasion to welcome the new incumbent. Both were received by Deepak in traditional style by presenting them with a turban. Compositions were sung (it would be appropriate to say that they attempted this with all sincerity!) extolling the contributions of Mittal and a few speeches later it was time to feast. After the lunch, a group photograph was arranged. I got a couple taken too. The get together brought me face to face with many old friends after many years (such as Mahesh Mehta, the CSTE, who I was meeting after 22 years) and made new ones. The greatest joy, naturally, was to ‘catch up’ with three IRTS batch mates. GL Meena has grown so large that it was devilishly delightful to pose for a few pictures with him – it made me look and feel fit and ‘undergrown’.

The Jaipur Club is located on Railway land and hence, railway officers are automatically members of the Club. AKP and I decided to meet there after 7 pm for cocktails and dinner. When I was leaving for the rendezvous Sudhir rang up to say that he would be reaching Jaipur soon. I requested him to join us at the Jaipur Club. The premises are well maintained and the Club has good facilities, including that for squash racquets. I settled for a cold beer when AKP chose to have his Scotch. While sipping the beer the Bearer informed that Baccardi Black is available. That’s my favorite dark rum and I changed courses. The arrival of Sudhir added further spice to the conversation. When friends meet, especially after a long interval, time zips by. There is so much to tell and know. The large helpings of Chicken starters and Fish Amritsari supplied with the drinks precluded the possibility of a formal dinner. India’s victory in the T20 in South Africa sent us home in a good frame of mind.

DAY 100 – New Delhi to Jaipur

Friends,

I had planned to leave by 7 am to beat the morning rush on the NH8. As it turned out the fog was heavy and Ashok suggested that I postpone the departure by a half hour. I took the outer ring of Connaught Circus by 7.30 am and hit the road to Gurgaon. The development of transportation infrastructure for the CWG has indeed been terrific such as the metro rail and the roads. I got to the NH8 without a sweat, but the humungous truck traffic held up movement in many places thereafter. Coupled with the fog it considerably slowed down movement. Most of the holdups happened near truck parking yards and intersections, where flyovers have still not been done. The journey to Jaipur, a distance of about 250 kms, should not have taken more than 4 hours as the condition of the road is, by and large, quite good. Given the traffic snarls and the heavy fog I was lucky to reach Jaipur by a quarter to 2 in the afternoon. I did not have to stop for breakfast as the hold ups ensured enough ‘free time’ to partake of the paneer parathas and pickle that Suman and Ashok had so considerately packed for the intermission en route.

I was to have turned off at Dharu Hera for Alwer to meet up with Sudhir Pratap Singh, who was my roommate during our days of probation in the Railway Staff College, Vadodara. He joined the Indian Police Service in 1983 (Rajasthan cadre) but has remained a bosom buddy over the years. Sudhir was fond of parrots and wanted its company in the room that we stayed in the RSC. I would have none of it in the room and we agreed on the small balcony to keep the bird cage. One afternoon, when I returned to the room, I found that Sudhir had let the parrot free inside the room to help it ‘stretch its legs’, as he put it. The mess it had done seemed to have been designed to teach me a lesson, for the parrot had specially focused on my part of the room. Livid was what I was when I completed the survey of the disaster. Before Sudhir came back to the room the parrot was free to explore the outside world on its own wings. When I visited him in Alwer on 26^th January 1996, to see him taking the Republic Day salute (he is one of the handsomest police officers in uniform I have met), I was happy to see that he was taking care of a host of parrots in his lovely house.

I am not likely to forget the Xmas day mass in Vadodara in 1982. Sudhir came with me for the mass. We sat next to each other and he followed what I was doing during the service - standing, kneeling and sitting as the occasion warranted. When it was time for Communion I told him to wait in his seat and explained that this part of the Service was meant only for Christians.  He nodded his head, which I understood to be his acceptance of what I had told him. When I came back to the seat I found Sudhir missing. I thought he had stepped outside to do his bit of ‘ogling’. As I was taking my seat I found all eyes in the Church riveted at someone walking down the aisle. I looked up to see Sudhir, his hands folded, chewing on the Communion he had received and making his way to the seat next to me. I was aghast. The Xmas mass was over for both of us. Without any further delay and brooking no further stares we beat the hastiest retreat we could. When asked why he did what he did, he said he was bored waiting for me!

That is Sudhir for you. He is an extremely committed officer and has held various sensitive positions in the State and in Central deputations. The encomiums showered on him by the police constabulary during my visit to Rajasthan in 2008 showed how he addressed social concerns with a human face in a force that is generally harsh on its staff.  I had agreed to meet with him in Alwer, where he operated an NGO to look after destitutes. I could not do so due to the traffic and the fog.

On reaching Jaipur and ‘checking in’ to the ORH I called up Ashok Pavadia (AKP), my batch mate, who is posted as Chief Safety Officer in the North Western Railway HQ. He had not known of my program to Jaipur as I wanted it to be a surprise. The new General Manager of NWR had taken over the previous day and most officers were in office to greet and brief him about the functioning of their Departments. AKP sent me his car to visit the NWR HQ. The building looks magnificent and it is well laid out. Besides AKP, Deepak Dave (Chief Operations Manager) and GL Meena (Chief Commercial Manager, Passenger Services) are the other two batch mates in the NWR HQ. Deepak invited me to attend the farewell lunch being hosted tomorrow for Vinay Mittal, who has been transferred to SER as GM. He felt that it would be a good forum to meet up with other Traffic officers and HoDs.

AKP offered the choices of Hotel Ashok or a revolving restaurant for dinner. My obvious selection was the revolving restaurant and AKP ‘warned’ that the restaurant serves only veggie food.  I reassured him that I could set aside my cannibalistic taste buds for a day and get bovine! We reached the Hotel OM Towers in time to see most of the seats either occupied or reserved. We were made comfortable in a four seater by the courteous restaurant staff. It did not take me long to choose what I wanted to feast on. It was a Rajasthani Thali for me. AKP chose to be ‘less adventurous’, as he called it and plumbed for rotis and a paneer dish. While waiting for the food we enjoyed the fabulous revolving night views from the 14^th floor, where the restaurant is located. At times I lost my orientation as the movement was quite palpable and I thought that the ball bearings of the revolving mechanism requires a bit of greasing and attention!

The Rajasthani Thali was a ‘synopsis’ of the traditional food – Dal Bhatti, Ghatta, Missi and Kharta rotis, kair sangri, dahi bada, green salad, mix vegetable curry and Choorma. Dal Bhatti was the first to receive my attention. The kair sagri, ghatti and two helpings of rice entwined with the enzymes next. The rotis with the mix veg and the rest in the Thali vanished in quick time. Choorma was the final item ‘gulletised’. Through the meal we yapped and yapped and savored the live music, mostly ghazals. A couple of my requests were also honored. It was a fabulous setting and a great experience of local cuisine.

DAY 99 – In Delhi

Friends,

Ashok called up to enquire about my schedule in the morning. I did not hesitate even for a nano second when he offered to send me a few parathas for breakfast. Time hung heavily till the paneer-stuffed paratha arrived. The homemade paneer, as Suman told me later it is, in the paratha was unbelievably tasty. And when it is hot it virtually melts in your mouth. The mango pickle complemented it perfectly. The carrot halwa was the ‘icing’. With the stomach in good order I was ready for BN Shukla when he arrived to accompany me to the Northern Railway HQ, the 11^th Zonal HQ during the journey. Manoj Srivatsava, Chief Freight Transportation Manager of NR, has been one of the major supports in my travel through the northern belt. He had made arrangements for the ORHs in Dehra Dun, Chandigarh, Shimla, Palampur and Jammu. I was pleasantly surprised to know that he was following the blog as time permitted. After a few exchanges on what we ‘understood’ of India I met with the Chief Operations Manager and Chief Passenger Transportation Manager of NR.

Shukla had taken VRS from the Government of India in early 2005 and joined the Adani Group. I used to meet him regularly when he was posted in Karwar and I was with the Railways in Hubli. We had worked in CONCOR together on deputation too, where his innings in TKD will be remembered for some time to come. He is an officer with a “Can do, Will do” attitude. He is terrific at infrastructure building and is an excellent team builder. He is presently the MD of KRIL, the infrastructure arm of KRIBHCO. We headed to his office in NOIDA to appreciate the plans that his Company has in shaping the logistics future of this country. I met the Finance Director of KRIBHCO and discussed KRIL’s plans with Shukla’s team. The trip to NOIDA further brought home the terrific improvements that have happened to the road network thanks to the CWG.

I went to the CRIS office to meet SB Roy and Dharam Singh, my batch mate. SB Roy was in charge of the Domestic Division of CONCOR as GGM in HQ, when I came into the organisation to start the Division in the Southern Region. Beating a new path in a structured environment is not easy unless you have support from those who supervise your work. I had that in ample measure from SB Roy. I took the liberty of fobbing a lunch off him. In the meanwhile Dharam Singh returned from lunch with a precious memento. I had, with a few batch mates, attended the wedding of Dharam’s son on 11^th February 2005. I remember having taken a photograph then. He gave me a mounted copy of it today. I ‘discovered’ pleasantly another colleague from CONCOR working in CRIS now, Sharad Mathur, a brilliant IT professional. After spending considerable time in the CRIS office I went with Dharam to visit Boota Singh as I would not be able to attend the function he had invited for on the 9^th. We spent a lot of time there to understand the circumstances leading to the unfortunate incident and to provide Boota with a ventilation mechanism, which is often required in such situations.

I spent the rest of the evening loading up the car, as efforts to trace/meet two other batch mates in Delhi – KN Choudary and Amrit Mathur – proved futile. After arranging the huge lot of luggage in as organised a manner as I could, I went to Ashok’s house. Over a few shots of Old Monk I got a glimpse of the amazing entrepreneurship of Suman. She has been in customized ‘festive’ wear business for the past 11 years and has conducted many exhibitions. The room in her house where she interfaces with customers has an exciting display of elaborate work on special fabric. She sources the material all by herself and manages the workmen efficiently. All this does not mean that the home front suffers; it’s quite the opposite. The well maintained and done up flat is efficiently managed and the husband and children receive more than the attention required for a warm home. After the Old Monk was ‘rested’ we decided to go to Ignis in Connaught Circus for dinner. I chose to have a Hummus platter with Pita bread. The Lebanese food is light and easy on the tummy.

DAY 98 – In Delhi

Friends,

All Zonal Railways, Production Units and the Railway Board have rooms in the Rail Niwas. The room I am allotted is from the Railway Board pool. After 6.30 am I opened the door of the room to survey the situation outside and located the canteen boy. I asked him for a cup of tea and then I heard the familiar voice of the Newspaper man. When he came within sight I realized that it is the same man who has been doing this business for the past many, many years. I tried to exchange some pleasantries, but he had a job to do. Suman had insisted on sending me breakfast. The peon arrived with Poha, stuffed parathas, pickle, halwa and tea. To say that the helpings were polished off is a polite way of describing the act of ‘gulleting’ them!

I have completed 17000 kms over the past 97 days and I wanted to service the car before hitting the roads for the home run. I may have just another 5000 kms to do before the entire journey is over. Ashok had located a Maruti Service Station near Connaught Circus. I asked Prateek to do a comprehensive check up and servicing to facilitate the rest of the journey without any hassle. Sometime later he took my permission to change the brake pads and do a ‘jugad’ on the front bumper. By 4 pm the car was serviced and ready to be retrieved. Ashok and I could not believe the transformation the car had undergone. It almost looked new. Apart from the oil and filter change the interiors were given a thorough turning over.

After parking the car for service I reached the Railway Board in Ashok’s vehicle. It was a strange feeling moving around the corridors of the RB with no business to transact other than to meet friends. Some time back many of my batch mates from various departments were in the RB. Now they are either heading Divisions or are Heads of Departments in Zonal Headquarters. I met those I wanted to and reached Ashok’s office in time for lunch. He had arranged for Kulcha and Chole from the Bikaneerwala outlet. The Kulchas were delectable and I had a share of Ashok’s portion too.

Mukul had ascertained from Boota Singh that the body of his son would be taken to the cremation ground at 1500 hours. Even though we reached Boota’s house ahead of the appointed time the entourage had already left for the Lodhi cremation ground. Mukul, Ashok and I went there and paid our respects to the departed soul and did what we could to console the grieving parents. The greatest tragedy for parents is when their children predecease them.

I met Ujjwal Khanna in the St Stephen’s College Residence in 1978. He was staying in Residence despite his family being located in Karol Bagh. He wanted to concentrate on his studies without any interference or disturbance. During the weekends he used to head home and resurface every Monday. How exactly I met him I do not remember now. But I vividly recall the crate of beer he lugged to the Residence one Friday evening after he ascertained from me that I am not averse to an occasional ‘session’. The friendship blossomed in a short while and I became a regular visitor to his Karol Bagh home during weekends, where I was virtually adopted as a son by Uncle and Aunty. I used to go out with Ujjwal and his friends on long drives, sipping a few in the rear seat, and ending up after midnight in a Coffee Shop for a portion of Black Forest Cake. The two families became close friends and my father used to visit Uncle and Aunty, whenever he was in Delhi. Ujjwal and his pretty wife, Miki, were among the few friends to attend my wedding in 1985. With the passage of time and official and personal engagements the contacts reduced but the relationship remained alive. Thus, it was only apt that I spend an evening with Uncle and Aunty in their Ashok Vihar home during the stay over in Delhi. Ujjwal picked me up and on the way appraised me about the health condition of Uncle and Aunty. However, all through the three hours I spent at home Uncle and Aunty were full of conversation and attention. I was happy to see them thus. We discussed many subjects and I was humbled by the knowledge, understanding and wisdom of Uncle. He shared with me the formula his father had for a civilized citizenry – Fear of God, Fear of Government and Fear of Society. Absence of any or all (as is the case now) makes for a boorish and shameless society, which does not live by any positive principles or norms. Phulkas with a liberal dose of desi ghee on them and homemade pickle, rajma, a host of vegetarian fantasies made of potato, cauliflower, peas, and carrot plus rice reduced the gap between the table and the ever expanding belly. To top it all, hot and irresistible carrot halwa chased the previous helpings down the gullet. I relaxed some with Miki’s pugs (‘network follows’ types) before taking leave of Uncle and Aunty. It was not easy. As I was leaving Uncle told me, “Bete, tension math lena” (Son, do not fall prey to tension). Ujjwal and Miki dropped me back at the Rail Niwas and there I took leave of them too. One of the things I thank God for every night before turning in is the wonderful friends He has given me.

DAY 97 – Amritsar to Delhi

Friends,

The NH1 is a comfortable drive. The initial phase from Amritsar to near Jalandar is superb. After that many intersections and bridges are yet to be completed. The good road conditions are negatived by the drivers religiously adopting the ‘middle path’, which is a good philosophical pursuit but is annoying to a road user. In Jalandar I stopped for breakfast to experience Haveli. The atmosphere, even on a cold winter morning was enjoyable. I opted for the fast food centre at the entrance in the open, rather than use the restaurant. I ordered Chole with Batura and a cup of tea. The tea arrived earlier and the masala was special. While I started on the Batura a bus load of passengers arrived for their breakfast. One of them, while munching his sandwich, looked at me as if the Batura was the last thing that was made yesterday. The more I ignored him the more curious he was to look into my plate. “We are like this only”!

As I was nearing Ludhiana a Sikh gentleman on a bike zipped past me and wove his way at high speed through pedestrians crossing the road. From his attire he looked much like Zorro on a bike, as he had masked his face and a cape billowed in the air. But what he did on the bike was nothing short of the magical skills of Mandrake. How he missed the pedestrians, or avoided them, is a mystery that lingered on in my mind long after witnessing it. What perplexed me more was the possible motive behind the ‘dare’. It had to be either to minimize his exposure to the harsh winter morning or a concern to get to work. If it was the former one can forgive the young man, but not the latter. As far as work is concerned, as a good friend once told me and practices to perfection, “there is nothing that need be done today that can be postponed to another day”! I know what my batch mates are thinking; they feel they have identified the source I have quoted. Banish the thought, it is NOT Mukul Jain.

When one passes through Kurukshetra one cannot but wonder what the place would have been like during the time of the Pandavas and the 18 day Mahabaratha War. It is same with Panipat, which has seen numerous strategic and critical battles for the control of Bharath. Thanks to Vijay, the brother of Ashok Kumar, my batch mate, I did some shopping in Panipat. With the blankets, bed sheets, towels and other knickknacks loaded in the car it looked as if I had driven all the way just for the shopping.

I was a bit apprehensive about driving into the city centre of Delhi – my accommodation was arranged in Rail Niwas by BN Shukla, a batch mate. But the drive was surprisingly smooth and easy. The new flyovers and intersections have made it so. I was in the State Entry Road without any difficulty and Ujjwal and Miki were waiting to ‘receive me into the Capital City’. With their help I settled into the room allotted to me and went with them for a hot cuppa’ coffee and a bite to the Cafe Coffee Day outlet in Connaught Circus. After coming back I had to empty the car to get it ready for service tomorrow. It took me six trips in the Rail Niwas lift to cart the ensemble in the car up to my room. By the time it was done I warmed up sufficiently to discard the jacket and roll up my sleeves. When Mukul Jain and Ashok Kumar found me in this state they must have felt colder!

The news of the death of the son of my batch mate, Lt Col Boota Singh, overshadowed all the other meetings and events. Sunnybir Singh was an alumnus of NID and had recently returned home after higher studies in Germany. His young and promising life was cut short by an irresponsible driver on NH8 near Gurgaon. When we drive negligently (low tech discipline, as Mukul calls it) at high speeds on the high tech roads the grief that we could cause to others is seldom remembered or thought about. I take this opportunity to pass on the condolence of the 1981 batch of IRTS Officers, serving and retired, and of those who read these lines to the grieving family members. We pray to the Almighty to give the family members strength in this hour of trial.

The evening with Ashok, his wonderfully enterprising wife Suman and their three gifted sons was a delight. I suspect if I sermonized too much for the kids to get bored, but then who can stop a few shots of Glenfiddich from talking? Mukul had attended Maya’s wedding with Ritu, his wife. He showed us the superb photographs he had taken during the functions. The dinner was fantastic and the jalebis fantabulous. I was dropped back to the ORH and I just about managed to crawl into my sleeping bag and blanket.

DAY 96 – In Amritsar

Friends,

I had to meet the Station Superintendent to arrange my visit to the Wagah Border and get a testimonial from him of my visit to Amritsar. I was told yesterday evening that he would be available only after 10 am. I gave it another hour for him to finish the morning meetings in the office. When I met him at 11 he wanted me to get both done through the Assistant Traffic Manager – a classic case of red tape. When you have a level functioning above you the tendency is to ‘glove the ball to him’. Rather than be annoyed with such guys I feel sorry that they under perform. When I told him to check if the ATM is in office another worthy seated with the SS vehemently asserted that he was. I reached the office of the ATM and was told that ‘Saab’ has not yet come to the office and could be busy making arrangements for the visit of the CRB. While waiting outside the ATM’s office I met Jai Singh, the Office Superintendent of the ATM. He made me comfortable in the ATM’s room and sought to know the purpose of my visit. I told him why I was there and that I did not want a reservation. He immediately contacted someone in the Border Post and arranged my entry to the VIP enclosure. He suggested I wait and meet the ATM for the testimonial as it would be more ‘valuable’. I acquiesced and waited for the ‘Saab’ over a cup of tea graciously offered by the OS. Even by 1230 there was no sight or news of the ‘Saab’. Hence, I requested Jai Singh to give me the testimonial, failing which I would be wasting all my time in the office. He agreed and I left after thanking the OS. A simple job, but the attitude matters; rejected by the SS I was assisted by the OS.

I walked outside the exit arch of the railway station and took refuge in a small eatery for a breakfast of Parathas and dal. After a cup of tea I took off for the Ram Thirath Temple and the Wagah Border. The former is 13 kms from the station. The legend of Valmiki, Sita, Luv & Kush and Sita’s sacrifice is the theme of this location. There is a ‘Prachin’ (Old) temple, which is supposed to be the house of Sita and the birth place of the twin sons. Next to it is the Ashram of Valmiki. Another enclosure is supposed to be the place here the children were imparted training. There is a huge tank in front of the ‘complex’ which, according to a Sadhu in the Valmiki Ashram, was created when Ram ordered his soldiers to dig and reclaim Sita. There is a well near the Ashram with steps leading to it, known as Sita Kund, which is where Sita used to bathe. I found this confusing since Sitamarhi in UP claims the same legend and locations of it. The Sadhu rebutted the claim of UP. I wanted to know why this ‘complex’ is run down and not ‘dressed up’ to attract tourists. He said that the residents in the locality have taken an injunction from the Court preventing the development of the ‘complex’ since they have vested interests in promoting the other temples around the tank. A very complex ‘complex’ indeed!

I took the highway to the Wagah Border and reached well in time and waited for the scheduled time of 1545 hours when they let the ‘spectators’ in. The arrangement made by Jai Singh worked perfectly. My car was registered to go into the parking lot. I went past the Customs gate, entered the BSF location and parked in the designated area. All along BSF personnel check your credentials. The place where the ‘spectators’ sit is called ‘Stadium’. The Indian side was full, with people decked out in colorful winter clothes and scarves. Before the start of the ‘Beating the Retreat’ patriotic songs are played loudly and people on either side of the border run up and down with the National Flags. Photography sessions with the decked out BSF jawans are another attraction. An official photographer snaps 3 copies for Rs.100 and mails it to your address. Just prior to the start of the Parade the PTDC bus moves through the gate to Pakistan. The Parade itself is a magnificent affair and an event to be savored. The emotions that spill over are so patriotic; if ever a symbol is required to reinforce patriotism it is the Parade and the atmosphere. The shouts of ‘Bharat Mata Ki Jai’ and ‘Vande Matharam’ that rings and reverberates in the air make the hair stand on its end. It was a great experience, which is rounded off with buying of mementoes from the BSF souvenir shop. As I was driving out of the Border Post I could appreciate the elaborate ‘art’ works on the Pakistan trucks. They have a slanted projection over the driver’s cabin and it is ornately carved and/or painted along with the sides of the truck.

On the way back I went to Lawrence Road, an upmarket location of Amritsar. While walking about I came across a vendor selling ‘Aam Papad’ and many preparations of mango. He sells his delectable preparations from beneath a Pipal Tree and that is the address given in his card too. He made me sample many new mango based preparations and I bought a huge bundle from his display. He told me that he could send me any preparation by Post, whenever I choose to have them. The ‘Mattris’ and Laddus of Amritsar are popular and sought after too.

Back in the ORH I settled the charges and loaded most of the luggage into the car. The stay in Amritsar also has come to an end. I am now well and truly homeward bound.