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Via Bhatinda: A Braid of Reflected Memoirs
Via Bhatinda: A Braid of Reflected Memoirs
Via Bhatinda: A Braid of Reflected Memoirs
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Via Bhatinda: A Braid of Reflected Memoirs

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I have been reading some excellent writings by you. Consider sending me such some pieces in Hindi for the Vishva-Vivek. Regards, BhuDev (On #14)

Ive wanted to say this for a long time. Since you write so well, I am surprised that you dont enter the Toastmasters International Speech Contest more often and win!! Maybe I could help you convert some of your writings into inspirational speeches! Let me know if interested! Narayanan (On #19)

It seems you have knack of praising everything Americana by putting Hinduism down. Nobody can miss this bias in your articles. Have you heard about samagams and they were what conventions were sans frills. Wish you could make your point without getting into unnecessary diversion. Rahul (On #28)

This is, by far, the best of your recent articles! Anand Bhatia (On # 38)

Your articles are thought - provoking. Sometimes, I read them twice or thrice to grasp the deeper ideas embedded. You have a natural talent to express the ideas and feelings. Soori (On #60)

You have had a very eventful life indeed, coming in company with people of unusual talents. In contrast, I knowingly drifted away from success in search of what I thought was truth. I did find it. But I have been going into hardship intentionally and rejected the material world. Subhash (On #76)
LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 6, 2013
ISBN9781466984660
Via Bhatinda: A Braid of Reflected Memoirs

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    Via Bhatinda - Satish C. Bhatnagar

    © Copyright 2013 Satish C. Bhatnagar.

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

    The two Bhatinda pictures on the front cover are taken by Rishu Bhatnagar, my nephew,

    a free lance IT contractor living in Bhatinda. The Las Vegas picture is taken by me,

    and Rakesh Bhatnagar took my picture for the back cover.

    isbn: 978-1-4669-8467-7 (sc)

    isbn: 978-1-4669-8466-0 (e)

    Trafford rev. 04/23/2012

    7-Copyright-Trafford_Logo.ai

    www.trafford.com

    North America & international

    toll-free: 1 888 232 4444 (USA & Canada)

    phone: 250 383 6864 ♦ fax: 812 355 4082

    DISTRIBUTION OF CONTENTS

    SELECTED COMMENTS FROM THE READERS

    VIA BHATINDA—A PICTORIAL

    A MEMOIRIC PREFACE

    GENESIS OF A BOOK

    ‘VIA BHATINDA’

    BHATINDA AS I GREW UP IN (PART I)

    BHATINDA AS I GREW UP IN (PART II)

    LAS VEGAS VIA BHATINDA!

    TIME TO TELL IT ALL!

    MY NANA JI

    I. Bhatinda: Its Secants & Tangents

    BHATINDA AS I REMEMBER

    LOST PLEASURE OF URBAN WALKING

    MY BHATINDA ROOTS

    BEAUTY IN THE MUSCLES

    A WOMAN WHO MADE A DIFFERENCE

    CLEANING: CALL IT SPRING OR DEWALI

    MY FATHER (PART I)

    II. Cross Culturals

    BOB: MY FIRST ODE

    CULTURE AND COMMUNICATION

    INDIAN GUPP-SHUPP IN USA

    ON WATCHING DAUGHTERS LIVE

    A HUNDRED-YEAR-OLD FRIENDSHIP

    A SMALL TALE OF TWO GIRLS

    A RAINBOW OF EXPERIENCES: MARRIAGE

    INDIAN DIVERSITY 101

    COMPARISON IS NOT A POINT

    MAKING CHILDREN TIMELY PARTNERS

    HOLI IN MY PERCEPTION

    BRICKS & MORTAR OF A NATION: A SCENARIO

    A FORM OF A FERTILIZER

    INDIANIZATION OF E-MAILING

    LIVING TOGETHER

    HONORED IN HONORING

    IT HAPPENS IN AMERICA ONLY

    A SLICE OF LIFE

    A FATHER ON FATHER’S DAY

    IT ONLY HAPPENS IN USA

    EXPAND YOUR HORIZONS

    SHAKESPEARE 101

    TRANSFORMING HUMILITY

    GLIMPSE OF A GREAT INSTITUTION

    A MAN’S BEST FRIEND IS MAN’S WORST ENEMY

    OUR NEIGHBOR—DUTCHIE

    SUPER BOWL: THE GREATEST SHOW

    WHAT A VALENTINE DAY!

    ON SENIORS AND MCDONALD’S

    SMALL PERSPECTIVES

    I LOVE MY JOB!

    MARRIAGE, MERRY, MIRAGE

    A KARHI LEGEND

    KNOW THY VACATION

    THE BEST OF ‘DAVID LETTERMAN’

    III. My Building Blocks

    PATCHING UP THE CRACKS

    A REFLECTIVE PARTY INVITATION

    TIME TO JUMP INTO POOL WATERS

    ON THE ONSET OF SECOND VOWS

    AMRITA IN THE MAKING

    MY AMRITA PREETAM DAUGHTER

    LIVING WITH A CENTENARIAN

    WELCOMING A YOGI AT HOME

    MY GRAND DAUGHTER SHERNI

    MY DAUGHTER, BADDI BUMB

    WHAT IS IN THE BHATNAGAR NAME?

    SAY, GOOD BYE, BG!

    RAKESH, OUR FAMILY ANCHOR

    A FOR—AVNISH

    JAGMOHAN: HOME GROWN HERO

    SON CARRIES A TORCH

    MY FIRST TV INTERVIEW

    INTERESTING PEOPLE: BHAISAB (I)

    LIVING WITH SPECIAL KITH AND KIN

    WHAT ARE YOU THANKFUL FOR?

    TIME TO GIVE BACK

    ON MY BIRTHDAY

    WALKING WITH/LIKE A KID

    PEOPLE WHO TOUCHED MY LIFE: KS MAMA JI

    HAPPY NEW YEAR, MY READERS!

    INTERESTING PEOPLE: BHAISAB (II)

    INTERESTING PEOPLE: SUBHASH SOOD

    A POTA IS BORN!

    WHAT WAS ON MY MIND?

    A DAY IN LAS VEGAS

    GRANDSON SHERU

    MY DAUGHTER AMRITA WEDLOCKS!

    GRANDDAUGHTER GROWING UP

    A BRIEF ENCOUNTER

    KEEP DISCOVERING YOUR LIFE

    STRESS OF A STRESS TEST

    RESPECT A PROBLEM FIRST

    MY JADUGAR

    A COMMON EXPERIENCE, YET

    MATHEMATICAL CREATIVITY & CRAZINESS

    SPOTLIGHT BY PROXY

    A STAR OF DIFFERENT LUMINOSITY

    TALKING WITH INFANTS

    AN ART OF LIVING

    TIME TO COUNT BLESSINGS

    MY FRIEND, BHUSHAN LAL WADHWA

    DO YOU MISS A GROUP?

    AIR INDIA SUCKS

    A NEW BIRD IN THE SKY

    MY COUSIN: VINOD BEHARI

    THIRTY-FIVE TO GO

    ON SIXTY-FIVE TO GO?!

    THE BLOSSOMING OF AMRITA

    TIME TO BRAG

    ANAL: A TROUBLE SHOOTER

    MY FATHER (PART II)

    ON YOUR 75th, DUTCHIE!

    THOUGHTS ON MOTHER’S DAY

    FORTY YEARS, AND GOING!

    COMMENTATORS & ANALYSTS EXTRAORDINAIRE

    SELECTED COMMENTS FROM THE READERS

    Very well said. This is one of the rare moments when I agree with what ever you wrote in your article. Even Bhagwan Krishna says that Dharma changes with place, time and situation. You are blessed with good siblings. Rahul (On # 14)

    The important question is this Is security good or bad? Is it always good? Does insecurity have a role in living a healthy life? Invaders to India came from insecure" environs. After couple of centuries of enjoying secure climate of India they became sissy and were in turn defeated by another set of invaders from an insecure area. What do you think? Subhash Sood (On # 16)

    It is a story to reflect on; it’s a thoughtful, meaningful, touching story. I am glad you are keeping your eyes open to observe the ordinary things in life that still carry some extraordinary elements in them. Bravo, Satish. Moorty (On # 19)

    Yes, this is one of your most beautiful, Satish. I heartily agree that honoring another is a daily occupation and once a year is funny but does add a little hilarity and spice to living. Idealizing another human is so unrealistic, neurotic and just plain silly. It’s fun to celebrate, whatever the occasion. And waking up healthy every morning causes me to celebrate daily. Yippeeeeeeee. Thanks, Fondly, Dutchie, grateful for your thoughts—always. (On # 26)

    I have been thoroughly enjoying your reflections for a long time. Although my appreciation of them was not regularly conveyed to you, yet I do and I keep all of them to enjoy repeat readings, as at my age retention is sluggish. It would make me very happy if you could compile them and publish. It would be a great reading, learning, teaching life and to know about you for our progeny. Keep it up!Kavita (On # 38)

    You definitely have written things that show a very unique point of view. Although I might not always agree with them, I do read them. Congrats on your television début. Shweta (On # 59)

    I liked your observation about plateaus in every relationship very much. But I also believe that though you cannot be at a sustainable high, you can have a slight slope going upwards in every relationship (for lack of a better analogy. It is a matter of finding some new activities/ideas that interest both parties and building on them. Vicky (On # 60)

    VIA BHATINDA: A BRAID OF REFLECTED MEMOIRS

    VOLUME I

    DEDICATED TO

    MY NANA JI (MATERNAL GRANDFATHER)

    BAL SARUP BHATNAGAR

    (Dec 20, 1880—Jan 20, 1961)

    VIA BHATINDA—A PICTORIAL

    After the first book was written up, I asked my son and granddaughter to choose the artwork for its front cover. The book was mathematical, so my son generated a picture of a fractal on his computer—that has intrigued people. The second book being historical, I had specific images in mind. Also, I wanted the cover images to match with its title, Vectors in History, which I alone understood. With the help of Trafford’s design department, the cover that was finalized has been liked by everyone. It encouraged me to do the designing of the next two books as well.

    Success breeds success. Now, I enjoy the artistic challenge of finding images and colors which are reasonably congruent with the titles. The main title of this book being VIA BHATINDA, I asked Rishu, my nephew in Bhatinda, to take two good pictures—one of Bhatinda Railway station and the other of Qila Mubarak, the ancient fort of Bhatinda. He promptly obliged me. The image of Bhatinda junction will be set in at the top—symbolizing a gateway. The image of the Fort would fill out the mid section of the cover.

    The lower half of the cover will have impressive images taken in one shot—including a huge neon sign symbolizing the iconic glitter of fabulous Las Vegas. The background shows 20,000-capacity Thomas and Mack center, and two smaller sporting and event arenas. A three-storey parking garage and the tops of high-rise buildings would make a skyline.

    Bhatinda is my hometown in India, Las Vegas is my hometown in the US, and UNLV is my intellectual habitat in Las Vegas. For years, its Judy Bailey Theater, Ham Concert Hall, art galleries, lecture theaters, classrooms, and Barrick Museum have tremendously enriched my life. This unique shot is taken from a corner of Swenson Street and Tropicana Avenue.

    The images of sand dunes are suggested in the upper half of the cover, and of mountains in the lower half. The outskirts of Bhatinda still have small sand dunes despite the rising of ground water level. Las Vegas, situated in a valley, is surrounded by mountains. For the cover sake, the title is parsed out—VIA BHATINDA: at the top; A BRAID OF, below; REFLECTED MEMOIRS, lower; VOLUME I, still lower; and SATISH C. BHATNAGAR; at the bottom.

    March 25, 2013 (Colorful Holi)

    A MEMOIRIC PREFACE

    There is a bit of history how my hometown in India has two different pronunciations and spellings—namely, Bhatinda and Bathinda. The reasons are simple. One is phonetic. During pre-independence India, there was relatively little representation of rural Punjabis in political leaderships. The urbanite Punjabis went along with Bhatinda, and did not mind the difficulty in pronouncing the ‘Bh’ sound of Hindi language in it. However, as far as my memory goes, every one of my Punjabi friend pronounced it as Bathinda. A typical Punjabi sound in Bh does not correspond to the one in Hindi. Exactly for the same reason, my last name, Bhatnagar is pronounced differently by my Punjabi and non-Punjabi friends.

    The other reason comes from the emergence of local pride. A few years after independence, in the first Indianization wave, the names of several metropolitan cities were changed to conform to old and local dialectal names. In the second wave, the names of cities like Meerut, Jullundur, and Bhatinda were officially changed in the 1990s. However, for historical reasons and personal associations, I have mostly chosen to use Bhatinda in this book, with BTI as a common abbreviation for both names.

    The preface of this book has to be different from that of the other four books. It is not in one piece, but may be considered as a set of seven sub-prefaces. First of all, in the GENESIS, it is important to explain how the book evolved. It shaped as a living braid in its subtitle—changing on a daily basis. The next one is on the main title of the book, VIA BHATINDA. Perhaps, a comical booklet can be compiled on the stories associated with the pun, VIA BHATINDA.

    The first section of the book, BHATINDA: ITS TANGENTS AND SECANTS has some Reflections on contemporary Bhatinda as I witnessed then. But the two sub-prefaces, BHATINDA AS I GREW UP IN includes the cultural and geographic images of BTI strictly of the 1950s. Again, they are limited to the salient features and parts of the town. The sub-preface, LAS VEGAS VIA BHATINDA captures the ultimate pun in the phrase integrated with my personal life. It is a remarkable mental connection. The TIME TO TELL IT ALL is both a culmination and exclamation point of the preface in which I have explained why I finally decided to write my memoir in the setting of a unique format.

    The book is dedicated to my maternal grandfather (NANA), so the sub-preface, MY NANA JI briefly lays out his influence on me. Dedication of a book is an expression of gratitude toward a person who has truly made an impact in a short or long inning of life. Here, I am talking of 65 years of influence—both subtle and gross.

    Finally, it is time to thank you. This book is the most challenging of all five books I have written to date. At times, I was discouraged—told to forget about writing it. But with dogged determination, I went ahead with a single lofty thought that one day I may be supporting a small giant standing on my reasonably broad shoulders. This phrase is borrowed from Isaac Newton, who used it when he was asked to explain the secrets of his phenomenal discoveries and inventions in science: he famously said. By standing on the shoulders of the giants, I could look afar. Also, a human pyramid of small persons, some standing on the shoulders of others, can be bigger than a giant!

    Nevertheless, I must thank Francis A. Andrew for providing feedback for all my Reflections. My rebellious English is finally showing signs of improvement. In January 2009, we met by chance in Al—Diyar Hotel, Nizwa, Oman. His understanding of Christian theology, astronomy, biology and computer science is simply incredible. It speaks highly of the British system of education and his personal quest for knowledge. On top all that, being an English language professor, he has been pouring out 2-3 books a year. They are of a unique science fiction genre for both the young and adults. His book, Intelligent Design is just a marvelous creation. It is no less than a miracle that Trafford is our common publisher!

    Finally, I will remain eager to receive comments on the first volume of this unique memoir. The best compliment or a reward of writing this book will be if at least one person is inspired to write his/her own story of life. For any correction, comments and feedback, please use my classic Via Bhatinda e-mail ID: viabti1968@gmail.com!

    March, 21, 2013

    (Equinox)

    GENESIS OF A BOOK

    Yesterday, I told my Trafford publishing associate that the book VIA BHATINDA has come out of a state of intellectual weightlessness that I suddenly felt after finishing the fourth book, MY HINDU FAITH & PERISCOPE—my first religious book of a kind. This exercise turned out to be very intense—both mentally and physically. Looking back, I can say that there is a mathematical progression in all four of them.

    The weightlessness may be akin to what the astronauts physically feel when they are out of the gravitational field of the Earth, but have not yet entered in the gravitational field of any other planet. Such a feeling, whether at physical, intellectual or even spiritual level, provides moments of insights and inner transformation. In fact, the ‘lost’ phenomenon of levitation is an offshoot of intense and prolonged meditation in a spiritual domain.

    I love to say that all my books written in the last two years were never even on my remotest horizon 30 years ago. It is both a miracle and beauty of life! The books are now falling off like organically ripened fruits out of a colossal tree created by my passionate pursuit of observing life in totality all around me and writing them out spontaneously.

    Two years ago, I decided to sort out nearly 800 Reflections written during the previous eight years. My granddaughter assisted me for a while. Due to some foresight, the mathematical Reflections were being placed in a separate folder two years after my writings got serious. The mathematical book that came out in 2010 should have been out in 2006 had I been inclined towards publishing. But I am learning about publishing, as I write along too.

    Once the Reflections were categorized, it was easy to bring out the second book containing historical Reflections; third one, philosophical; and fourth, religious. The three folders, namely, Bathinda, Culture and Family had each enough Reflections to warrant at least one book. For a number of reasons, I decided that all three will braid into a unique memoir rather stand out individually. This decision was a bolt from the blue kind.

    Three sections of the book are labeled as, Bathinda, Cross-Culturals and Me. And, ‘Mecontains Reflections on my parents, siblings, siblings-in-law, friends and relatives. Thus, three piles which were not to stand out in comparison with the first four books now have an unparallel charisma that has a multiplication factor.

    About books in general, there is an important feature, it puts a kind of closure on a body of work both from the point of view of the author as well of the reader. At times, I wonder as to how come I deprived myself of this euphoria for some years. At the same time, I do believe that the force, conviction and clarity that have come in my observations and expressions would not have been of this caliber even five years earlier. Both good wine and good ideas take time to mature.

    March 01, 2013

    ‘VIA BHATINDA’

    I am very picky and equally proud of the pithy and involuted titles of my Reflections and books. There is a degree of thoughts invested in creating them. The phrase or saying—VIA BHATINDA, the main title of this book has a long lore and history behind it. For decades, I have put up with it, smirked at it, laughed it away and lived through jokes and puns implied in Via Bhatinda. Until going to the college, I really did not understand its origin and deeper meanings at all.

    The phrase Via Bhatinda means anything done in an abnormal, illogical and non-linear method and manner. That is one connotation sticking on it since pre-independence days of India. Lately, any reference to Bhatinda (BTI) whether in the movies or in fiction writings, suggests a place/person of weird quality of life.

    Despite BTI being an ancient city of India, it lost its luster in the turbulent pages of medieval history of Punjab. Besides, climatic changes possibly turned it into a harsh and arid region with sand dunes all around, thus making it isolated and inaccessible. However, its fate suddenly changed when a tributary of Sirhind canal was constructed through the outskirts of Bathinda around 1890. Incidentally, BS Bhatnagar, my maternal grandfather retired in 1935, as an employee of this project under Central Public Works Department, the largest department in the entire British Empire. Naturally, the availability of water for irrigation eventually made the farmers and commission agents (known as arrtis) richest people in Punjab. That is one of the reasons why the least number of Punjabis who migrated to UK, Canada and the US are from BTI.

    The meaning of this phrase became literal around the turn of the 20th century when the British also laid out a network of rail lines in India. It was essentially for moving army personnel and material to quell the type of 1857 independence revolt by Indians. In this transportation master plan, BTI emerged at the center. A record number of six different rail tracks were laid out through BTI by 1910. The seventh link was added later on.

    Here is a Via Bathinda scenario: due to limited railways, anyone wanting to go, say, from Karachi to Bombay had to go through Bathinda covering 1800 miles, while the two cities are only 550 miles apart! Bear it in mind that at that time, there were no paved roads. Also, trains were not meant initially for the Indian populace. As a kid, I used to wonder at the throngs of people at the huge Bhatinda railway junction with long platforms and over bridges, and travelers changing from one train to another.

    The most stigmatic meaning was doing BA Via Bathinda. Again, it is rooted in the imperial history when Macaulay system of education was adopted in 1835 for Bengal under East India Company. Eventually, English replaced Indian languages in all affiliated colleges—both private and government. However, Indians could also get BA degrees as private candidates by passing 1-3 exams all in one language—like Ratan, Bhushan and Prabhakar for Hindi. For ‘equivalency’ to regular BA degree, one has to additionally pass an exam in English only.

    Imagine a college graduate, but knowing Hindi and English only! Jobs were not easy for them. Mostly, the girls did BA Via Bhatinda, as colleges, already few, were not open to women. Consequently, the ‘stigma’ of Via Bhatinda became stronger in public psyche. With the passage of time, it crossed over in all walks of life.

    March 02, 2013

    BHATINDA AS I GREW UP IN (PART I)

    From frequent references of/to Bhatinda or Bathinda (BTI) in my Reflections, most of my cyber readers think that I was born there. No, I was born in Jakhal 65 miles SE of BTI. Both cities are railway junctions, and on a main railway line. Jakhal is relatively very small town and station. In 1945, my father, being an employee of the Indian Railways, was transferred to BTI, where BS Bhatnagar, my Nana (maternal grandfather) had built in 1935 the first 3-storey house, called Bal Niwas, in Nai Basti, a kind of new ‘colony’. Additionally, he built five units in a 2-storey adjoining building for rental income. My mother was the oldest amongst four sisters, but younger than all her three brothers. She took care of her father after her mother’s death—and it went on till 1961.

    Now that I have seen a lot of the world, I can say that BTI was ‘organically’ a segregated city of 60,000 people at the time of India’s independence and partitioning of Punjab in 1947. The present population of 300,000 makes BTI a leading educational center and grain and cloth markets of Punjab, and much more. However, through the 1950s, the locations of neighborhoods were described with respect to its huge railway station and a 1200-year old fort.

    The railway colony was exclusive, as the top railway employees, before 1947, were English. They lived in sprawling bungalows with quarters for a dozen Indian servants who accessed the houses only from the back pathways. After the 1960s, the families of two employees were allotted those big bungalows sitting on the halved lots. A road, called Thandi Sarak (means, cool road due to daily sprays of water and tall trees on either side) divided the railway colony—with its theater, dispensary, club, rest house and cricket pavilion, church (now 200 years old) and cemetery on one side and the residences on the other. Thandi Sarak was gated at both ends to restrict unauthorized entries.

    The lowest-level employees lived in tiny quarters closer to railway tracks and sheds. At the NE end of the colony, a cluster of 40 quarters was very well known in BTI, as here lived the mid-range railway employees. My father would have been allotted a quarter there, if he were not to live in Nai Basti. The railway colony had three humongous reservoirs of water drawn from Sirhind canal. It was used for recreational fishing by the English only and residential water supplies. In May 1961, I would have drowned in one of the reservoirs while trying to swim it across along its width, had my friend Gulab Rai Mittal not jumped in and pushed me to safety. At the same time, for its rare sylvan settings, there are a lot of memories of my studying with friends living in railway colony.

    The railway station essentially divided BTI into east and west. Moving along the outer areas—starting from the Forty-Quarters to the other side of railway lines, was the NW part of BTI. There used to be Bhupindra Floor Mill, and a rail track went directly into it for easy loading and unloading. The original ownership had some connections with the Patiala royalty. The mill eventually closed down and its huge compound remained locked up in litigation for years. The new residential colonies have erased all the traces of the mill. Adjoining to the mill, Jagjeet cinema was built that had the first covered roof, as Novelty, the only other cinema right across the railway station entrance, had no roof. Kamal Theater came up shortly afterwards on the Railway Road. The family that owned Kamal cinema also built Rajesh cinema near Nai Basti. All these cinemas are aged out and demolished. But a public library built around 1950 still stands next to a 3-storey Gole Market built after filling out the oldest water reservoir, called Gole Diggi. Gole means round.

    South of the mill and parallel to railway station was a huge complex of houses built by Thakur Das Madhok, a railway and army contractor. Most residents were Hindus and a few Sikhs. It had three massive gates for entry. The only son of Thakur Das Madhok lived in the laps of luxury; drove the first car in BTI etc. It was rumored that he often lit his cigarettes with rupee bills (like a $5 bill today). Sudarshan, a grandson of Thakur Das was my classmate and rode a bike to school, a rarity then. Whereas, I got my first bike in 1956 when the college shifted to a new building two miles away from home. Sudarshan and his brother run Samart hotel in the same area. I see him during my BTI visits.

    What flashes out is the image of Bhatinda Tennis Club, started by the English for their social built up. It was open to a limited number of anglicized Indians. I vividly remember a boy proudly telling of his working as a ball boy. Even the discarded tennis balls were expensive for us. This club compound was next to that of the first civil hospital in BTI. No traces of them are left anymore!

    Moving anticlockwise through the outskirts, a dusty entry road to BTI ran along the east sides of the mill and hospital. The residential area on the other side of this road was called hatta Niaz Mohammed. Hatta means neighborhood in Urdu. The rich Muslims lived in a few brick houses on one side of a small alley, and the rest lived in semi-brick and thatched houses. There were no housing construction guidelines. That is called organic architecture, as useful as organic foods are today. Ironically, the foods in India were only organic then! On one side was Idgah and Islamia high school, one of the four high schools in BTI then—the other three high schools were Khalsa, Sanatan Dharma and MHR Arya. My maternal grandfather and Thakur Das were the first founders of Arya School. There was no convent school then, however, now there are dozens of them.

    With the migration of hardworking refugees from Pakistan, particularly from Jhung, Multan and Peshawar, there was a spurt in housing construction in BTI. Between hatta Niaz Mohammed and a small ice factory (gone long ago), there was a lateral extension of Nai Basti with

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