HOME COMING ALWAYS was not only a moment of rejoicing with parents but reinventing and rejuvenating with my City Srinagar—The city of Sun.

BORN AND BROUGHT UP HERE FOR A quarter of my life yet its enthralling beauty looked enchanting ,fresh like a morning dew every moment .of the day night, mornings and evenings.

The city throbbed with life. People jostling giggling around with gaiety and beaming smiles. Bursting with beautiful mountain range, romantic Mughal gardens and plethora of lakes. The city is always to admire and talk about.


way back in summer of early 1970’s I vividly remember my home coming turned out to be a moment of despondency .

It was a great shock to see the failing health of my father , once a giant of a personality, bespetacled tall six footer, ,with dusky complexion, now being helped by my brother to hug me .

I could not imagine my father sliding down the health graph so dramatically.

Tears brimmimg in my eyes and eventually I broke down.

My uncle Babuji whom we fondly called Bab took me to his room and held me tightly to his broad chest .He fondly consoled saying “ father was examined by a reputed doctor and should be well soon.”

Babuji was very tall like my father ,handsome but a brave person.I loved him very much and trusted his words.

My nostalgic memories of RISHIKESH a small Town in close vicinity of Dehradun district of Uttarkhand 25 kms from Hardiwar, are very fresh in my memory.

Having spent about two decades here First as Operational head of Glass container manufacturing plant(1974 to 1983) and later as plant Manager of glass manufacturing and decoration plant (1989 to 1999.). is in itself a big time to talk about this great place.

The place is sacred one as the famous sage Raibhya Rishi was supposed to see the divine form of lord Vishnu and hence the town is named as Rishikesh after his name,


RISHIKESH is gateway for pilgrimage to the four holy places in India known as “Char Dham”, The pilgrims throng to this place for its   bewitching picturesque mountains ,rivulets and many crisscross brooks running down the valley from the glaciers atop the Himalayan .

The Holy Ganga river passes through this magnificent Town in its most fierce form.

I remember trekking along the soft treks in the region . with my wife and young daughters ,who grew in these beautiful shadows of this Town

Having to watch the impeccable beauty of valley while walking over Laxman Jhula, hanging bridge across The Ganga is really a treat to eyes.

This Town is full of Ashrams , and one Swarg Ashram is 5kms upstream on the left banks of The Ganges .A small township atop the hills , mesmerising momentous place to stay and enjoy the bliss of nature.

We have special love for this place as my younger daughter Deepali was born in this magical Town

On the banks of Triveni Ghat in the gaiety of glittering evening of Diwali amidst the roar of crackers and flickering light of Diyas floating on the waters of The Ganges.

One would like to sit on this Sacred Triveni Ghat with the cool breeze lapping up your countenance . Walk through the woods here all along for miles together without any fatigue or remorse.

A matter of Fact

 In my college days I had earned the notoriety of writing love letters for my friends .

It started with a saga of its own . A classmate approached me that his beloved has broken her heart and he was keen to woo her back by writing a love letter. After knowing the subject matter I penned down a love letter beginning with “Dear Dusky Darling and ending with yours Handsome Hero”.

This letter brought the two together and eventually I became the most sought after letter writer by one   and all.

The news went across the adjacent girls college… I wrote for most of them as well ..

I had a number of girl friends now much to the chagrin of other friends.

Should be news now for most of my friends and admirers.

I wish I could have preserved some of them to show my writings to my grandchildren .

Those days I used to write “Johansanien” English

“There is tardiness of locomotion in his walk” meaning “He walks slowly”.

All these moments ,matters are being lost in the mists of Time leaving behind a trail  of undying memories.


  1. Wow! Sir, your life story is really sweet. To add to it, you writing is so fancy yet so subtle. No doubt you must be the best love-letter writer:-)
    So much to learn from your experience.


  2. There are memories that time does not erase… they beat inside you as second heart…

    After reading the blog I was taken to my youth and times then… keeping writing…

    I am sure you were the best love letter writer of your times…


  3. I don’t have any doubt about your writing skills and specially your romantic letters.I enjoyed a peep in your world of memories.
    it really made me nostalgic about the places we left in this journey of life.


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