During our school-days, my sister and I, like all school going children, would eagerly look forward to our summer-vacations. Not only did this mean freedom to get up late but also meant that the annual trip to Saharanpur was finally around the corner. This was our nani ka ghar; and nothing could bring us more joy than this trip. I am talking about time way back in the 80s. Much before the advent of internet & TV even; so there were no makemytrip.com or yatra.com to entice with vacation deals. Add to this the fact that my father was posted in places like Dhule & Jalgaon …far far away from Saharanpur. So such trips happened only once a year.
The preparation for the trip would start weeks in advance. My mother would start collecting stuff. Poha, chakli, sabudana, chivda…all would be part of our luggage. At that time all these ingredients were not available up north. Add to these individual gifts for all family members. Now all the ladies of the extended family are proud owners of the paithani saree! We kids would have our own packing to do. Apart from the clothes, we would select some toys to accompany us along with our school books; that we never get around to studying is quite another matter! And let’s not forget the excitement of packing for the train journey itself. The day of travel saw frantic activity in the kitchen…mom would get up early morning to prepare the quintessential sookhe aloo ki subzi and fry enough pooris. Oh and let’s not forget the aam ka achar; along with this my sister and I would pack chocolates and toffees, which we had been collecting for days! As the time approached to board the train, we could barely contain our excitement. Once we had boarded, settled in, we wanted to eat…once done we would finally calm down and eagerly await our arrival at New Delhi railway station. We would alight here and continue the rest of the journey by road.
Finally, after a restless travel of more than 24 hrs we arrive at Saharanpur. And what a resounding welcome we would receive. My grandmother would have prepared our favourite meal, and immediately we would become the centre of attention. Of course another ritual was opening of the luggage; which everyone eagerly looked forward to!! My mom has two brothers and a sister; all younger to her. We as kids were quite a novelty to them and their college friends! We had a wonderful time going out with them and would be treated to all kinds of yummy street food.
Another high point of visiting Saharanpur was that we could watch TV (TV transmission began in Dhule only in 1984). I remember patiently waiting for 6:00 pm; the time transmission began. We would religiously watch all the programs, including Krishi Darshan, and would only sleep after wishing the presenter "shubhratri".
Looking back, even without Internet or 24 hour TV channels, we were never bored, nor did the power cuts bother us despite the scorching heat of May. The afternoons were spent waiting for the ice cream wala...the taste of the orange chuski still fresh in my mind.
The fondest memory of Saharanpur is of spending time with our grandfather. A stickler for routine, he was much feared by all in the family, but we girls could get away with almost anything! The best time was when he was having his meals. We would sit on either side and listen to his stories. He has migrated from Pakistan after the partition, and would talk fondly of his childhood and boyhood days. He would eat rotis laden with ghee and urged us to do the same…much to our dismay. Most evenings, if we were not going out with our aunt & uncles, grandpa took us out for a walk; where we would meet his friends…some from the pre-partition era! These walks inevitably ended with a glass of sugarcane juice. Spending time with him was also fun; not only did he regale us with stories and anecdotes, but also with nuggets of wisdom and practical advice.
We also had a no. of friends in Saharanpur, usually neighbours or the kids of our mother’s childhood friends. We eagerly looked forward to meeting them too. They would be quite amused by our hindi, sprinkled with Marathi words!
And before we knew it, it seemed that our vacation had gotten over far too soon. Hadn’t we just arrived? And now we were packing to go back! Not fair! Going back our luggage would be equally heavy…garam masala (from all the things, this is one thing I remember distinctly), pickles that my grandmother had made, all the knick knacks that my uncles & aunts had collected for us, the sweater that my granny had knitted for papa and various other tiny things would fill up our bags. My uncles would come to drop us at New Delhi railway station; of course goodbyes were never easy.
Once back home it took the longest to get back to routine…having been spoilt rotten for the entire vacation. Since there was no internet or phone, we would desperately wait for letters from Saharanpur, and if any had news of visiting relatives; our joy would know no bounds.
It’s been years since we went back to Saharanpur. My aunt and uncles got married and shifted away from home. After my grandfather passed away, the house was sold, and the last connection to Saharanpur was lost. I don’t know if we would ever go back, but looking back no other vacation has brought me more joy and happiness. Probably it was so special because it was my nana-nani ka ghar!
The preparation for the trip would start weeks in advance. My mother would start collecting stuff. Poha, chakli, sabudana, chivda…all would be part of our luggage. At that time all these ingredients were not available up north. Add to these individual gifts for all family members. Now all the ladies of the extended family are proud owners of the paithani saree! We kids would have our own packing to do. Apart from the clothes, we would select some toys to accompany us along with our school books; that we never get around to studying is quite another matter! And let’s not forget the excitement of packing for the train journey itself. The day of travel saw frantic activity in the kitchen…mom would get up early morning to prepare the quintessential sookhe aloo ki subzi and fry enough pooris. Oh and let’s not forget the aam ka achar; along with this my sister and I would pack chocolates and toffees, which we had been collecting for days! As the time approached to board the train, we could barely contain our excitement. Once we had boarded, settled in, we wanted to eat…once done we would finally calm down and eagerly await our arrival at New Delhi railway station. We would alight here and continue the rest of the journey by road.
Finally, after a restless travel of more than 24 hrs we arrive at Saharanpur. And what a resounding welcome we would receive. My grandmother would have prepared our favourite meal, and immediately we would become the centre of attention. Of course another ritual was opening of the luggage; which everyone eagerly looked forward to!! My mom has two brothers and a sister; all younger to her. We as kids were quite a novelty to them and their college friends! We had a wonderful time going out with them and would be treated to all kinds of yummy street food.
Another high point of visiting Saharanpur was that we could watch TV (TV transmission began in Dhule only in 1984). I remember patiently waiting for 6:00 pm; the time transmission began. We would religiously watch all the programs, including Krishi Darshan, and would only sleep after wishing the presenter "shubhratri".
Looking back, even without Internet or 24 hour TV channels, we were never bored, nor did the power cuts bother us despite the scorching heat of May. The afternoons were spent waiting for the ice cream wala...the taste of the orange chuski still fresh in my mind.
The fondest memory of Saharanpur is of spending time with our grandfather. A stickler for routine, he was much feared by all in the family, but we girls could get away with almost anything! The best time was when he was having his meals. We would sit on either side and listen to his stories. He has migrated from Pakistan after the partition, and would talk fondly of his childhood and boyhood days. He would eat rotis laden with ghee and urged us to do the same…much to our dismay. Most evenings, if we were not going out with our aunt & uncles, grandpa took us out for a walk; where we would meet his friends…some from the pre-partition era! These walks inevitably ended with a glass of sugarcane juice. Spending time with him was also fun; not only did he regale us with stories and anecdotes, but also with nuggets of wisdom and practical advice.
We also had a no. of friends in Saharanpur, usually neighbours or the kids of our mother’s childhood friends. We eagerly looked forward to meeting them too. They would be quite amused by our hindi, sprinkled with Marathi words!
And before we knew it, it seemed that our vacation had gotten over far too soon. Hadn’t we just arrived? And now we were packing to go back! Not fair! Going back our luggage would be equally heavy…garam masala (from all the things, this is one thing I remember distinctly), pickles that my grandmother had made, all the knick knacks that my uncles & aunts had collected for us, the sweater that my granny had knitted for papa and various other tiny things would fill up our bags. My uncles would come to drop us at New Delhi railway station; of course goodbyes were never easy.
Once back home it took the longest to get back to routine…having been spoilt rotten for the entire vacation. Since there was no internet or phone, we would desperately wait for letters from Saharanpur, and if any had news of visiting relatives; our joy would know no bounds.
It’s been years since we went back to Saharanpur. My aunt and uncles got married and shifted away from home. After my grandfather passed away, the house was sold, and the last connection to Saharanpur was lost. I don’t know if we would ever go back, but looking back no other vacation has brought me more joy and happiness. Probably it was so special because it was my nana-nani ka ghar!
