19th September marked the 50th anniversary of Mummy and AJ’s wedding. The year was 1964. A young good-looking man, on his way to work, would pass by a certain balcony on Marriott Road. Unbeknownst to him, a pair of shapely eyes would wait to catch glimpses. No words nor glances were ever exchanged. So imagine … More The Protagonists
The Sessions Court of Mehsana ordered AJ and Nanima to leave Sidhpur with immediate effect…….this meant that they could not even return home to collect their belongings. What if they were arrested…..? Deeming it too risky, they abandoned all thoughts of going back to Sidhpur, travelling instead directly to Ahmedabad from Mehsana….with only the clothes … More Fugitives!~1952….a story of migration (2/2)
Mummy was Zakia Aunty’s best friend at her wedding, and they’re also first cousins. She was 22 at the time, and was the fashionista of the family, loved to make clothes, wear sarees and high heels and absolutely adored jewellery, the funkier the better. Some things never change and Mummy is still the same 50 … More Mummy the ‘best friend’ ~ 1962.
Something about this picture makes me look at it more closely. Well-dressed young men in suits posing on a railway platform…on the verge of a journey….47 years ago. That’s my father in the white shirt and tie, standing second from the right. The year was 1964, and the college was sending a batch of final … More College days (AJ writes to the President!)
There’s something wrong about the date in this here letter. The year can’t be 1934 as it so says, for the simple reason that my father was born in 1935, hence probably not even a twinkle in my grandfather’s eye yet. 🙂 Therefore, it must be 1944. Whatever the case, it was written by a … More Now you see me, now you don’t…(Sidhpur 1944)
Piecing together the past, from letters exchanged between the siblings of my father’s mother, and from correspondences between her and her husband, I have learnt a little bit about my Dadima. Her name was Sakina, the eldest child, with big expressive eyes and a soulful expression, something we can only tell from the few pictures … More The grandmother I never knew.
[My father. whose name is Mohammedi, and whom we have always called Abbaji, shall be referred to as Little AJ in this story, for reasons of brevity and cuteness. Also because it is impossible for me to call him by his first name, no matter how little he was when this story unfolded, a story … More The Accident. Sidhpur, 1946.