“He had learnt to read their expressions and their moods very accurately. He could guess when they were definitely going to buy a particular sari. He could tell when they were in two minds and had to be pushed into buying...” This year’s Commonwealth Writers’ Prize winner Rupa Bajwa describes the buying-selling experience in the lanes of our city in her own sensitive way.

Ramchand had been working at Sevak Sari House for eleven years now. He had watched innumerable women choose saris. Though women were otherwise strange, alien creatures to him, there was one part of them that he knew intimately — the way they chose saris.

He had learnt to read their expressions and their moods very accurately. He could guess when they were definitely going to buy a particular sari. He could tell when they were in two minds and had to be pushed into buying one. He could immediately sense when they had made up their minds not to buy anything and were just pretending to be interested.

He well knew the look on a young girl’s face when she came to the shop with mothers and aunts and sisters to buy saris for her wedding trousseau. There was the glow on her face, the light in her eyes, the quiet nervous excitement. She would drape a pallu of a sari over her shoulder and look into the mirror intently. While the women accompanying her critically assessed how the saris suited her, she looked at herself with the eyes of her would-be-husband-and lover. Her moist lips would quiver and part in a virginal excitement. She would smile, and in the end she would be quite incapable of making up her mind. She would blush and nod when the women accompanying her asked whether she wanted this sari or that, creating a lot of confusion. On certain occasions, Ramchand had also seen such girls look into the mirror with melancholic eyes, as if the sari was quite all right, it was the idea of this particular marriage that wasn’t so happy. This happened rarely, but when it did, it would tug terribly at Ramchand’s heart, though he would later tell himself that it must have been his imagination.

He had seen vanity, he had seen envy, he had seen despair. He knew well the bitterness of a plain woman, who could see in the mirror that a sari could, after all, do only so much, and he could recognise the quiet, wordless triumph of the beautiful ones.

Ramchand had also noticed that women rarely, almost never, brought saris alone. They had to be in twos and threes to be able to decide, and to derive the maximum pleasure from the process of purchasing a sari. Buying a sari wasn’t just buying a sari — it was entertainment, it was pleasure, an aesthetic experience. They would always come at least in pairs, if not in groups. Then they would talk about the sari, discuss its merits and demerits. They would make faces if they didn’t like a sari, and shake their heads ruefully at each other, quickly saying that the sari would have been all right, had it not sorely lacked a good pallu, or a better designed border, or a slightly different shade of colour.

Ramchand had learnt to be patient while women talked and pored over a sari endlessly. They would peer at it closely, running their fingers lightly over the fabric, scrutinising the pattern, as if trying to decipher faded handwriting on an old parchment.

He had also come to recognise the covetous expression, followed by a resolute look on a woman’s face once she had decided that she must have a particular sari, no matter what happened.

If the women were from the same family, family hierarchies would come into play sometimes. The eldest, usually a grandmother or a mother-in-law, would finally decide things, especially if the shopping was being done for a wedding in the family. She would make sure that nobody got saddled with the cheapest sari, lest the sari wars carry themselves dangerously into kitchens. But on the whole, women from the same families were also pretty amiable and happy while buying saris together. They would ask each other anxiously, do you remember, do I have another sari of the same colour, are you sure? They would drape saris over their shoulder, sometimes even cover their head with the pallus, and ask each other how it looked on them. It was perhaps the one time when women were at their most honest, open and sincere towards each other.

And in every case, there would be the bargaining — the gentle bargaining that regular customers did, knowing they’d get their way eventually; the loud haggling that aggressive women did out of sheer habit, the sort that ended with headaches on both sides the coaxing, cajoling kind of bargaining that inexperienced customers indulged in hopefully; and the aristocratic requests that women from rich families made (please price it reasonably, they would command with an imperious wave of their hand). It happened in different forms. But it always happened.

But today, in the drawing room of the Kapoor House, there no bargaining and very few questions were asked. In fact they did not even bother to ask the prices, even when he unpacked the most expensive lehngas that were available at Sevak Sari House.

They exchanged very few words with each other, both women absorbed in picking out what they wanted. They ignored Ramchand completely. They chose expensive saris and went through the few lehngas he had brought with him without batting an eyelid and kept them aside, and carelessly tossed the ones they did not like into another pile.

Rina picked out two sheer saris, one in a delicate salmon pink edged with silver thread, and another that was a light blue, almost white, heavily covered with embroidered silver butees. Mrs Kapoor chose a blue crushed tissue sari with a brocade border without the slightest hesitation. A bottle green, almost black, tussar sari with brown and gold thread embroidery followed. And so they went on, while Ramchand sat there feeling awkward, useless and left out.

The few questions that were asked were by Mrs Kapoor, and they showed her to be quite an expert about fabric. Ramchand tried his best to answer them without getting visibly nervous. There was a certain ruthlessness in the way the two picked up a sari, ran a sharp eye over it, took in the border and the pallu and then felt the fabric between their thumbs and forefingers. Then, with a hard glint in their eyes, they made up their minds. There was no hesitancy, no doubt, about anything at all.

— Excerpted from “The Sari Shop” by Rupa Bajwa. Published by Penguin.

Standing water, illegal jhuggis (shanties) and paucity of funds are playing havoc with the Leisure Valley cum Rose Garden, famously known as Challih Khuh, the second green lung of the city after Ram Bagh gardens.

Spread over 40 acres, the garden is a wonderful and rare sight in the densely populated area of the Jodda Phatak locality. Obviously, it received its name from the two parallel railway crossings passing through the area.

The double crossing deters public from visiting the park, as the road is frequently closed for the passage of trains. Sometimes, the people have to wait for an hour for the opening of the gate, as both crossings have to be closed one after the other.

The park falls between these two crossings. A few shanties have emerged on the right side of the main entrance, while about three dozen shanties have surfaced on the rear side of the park.

The 40 wells (khuhs) located in it, supplied water to the city for 70 years. These were dismantled in 1972 after the advent of new technology. The park is of historical importance not only for the city but also for the state. It is associated with the advent of the first usage of technology for water supply in the state. Modern system of water supply in Punjab came with the arrival of British. It was in 1902 that the Head Water Works, as the department was then called, undertook a massive project in Punjab which covered the three major cities of at that time - Patiala, Ludhiana and Amritsar.

As many as 12 wells were bored in Patiala, while Ludhiana had 24 wells and Amritsar had the maximum 40. The level of progress Amritsar had attained at that time can be gauged from the differences between the number of wells bored in Amritsar and other cities.

The British engineers had laid down a well-planned uninterrupted water supply system supplemented by a green cover around it. They used 125-horse- power diesel-operated engine to harness water. They had also constructed residential quarters and bungalows for their employees there. These buildings are still intact.

However, these days few employees of municipal corporation are ready to live there, as adjoining this residential complex is a big pool of stagnant water. It has become a place for breeding of mosquitoes, and stench can be smelled from far off.

The remains of the old technology, including engine and heavy metal pipes and other infrastructure like chimney, and processing rooms are still visible there.

After the induction of new technology, the wells and the machinery became redundant in the early seventies. In 1980, the authorities threw open the rose garden for public. The place became the favourite spot of city residents, who used to come there in large numbers. A resident of the area, Mr Gurcharan Singh (60), said the park used to serve as a picnic spot.

Mr Jaswinder Singh Bilga, Executive Engineer, Horticulture, said that saplings of roses were planted in plenty there. However, they could not last long, as thefts continued unabated. The paucity of funds added to the problem.

Two types of trees, including ornamental trees and shrubs, are found in park. In the former category are included trees like sterculia (junglee badam), molsari, ashoka, bischopia javanica, sagwan (teak), kanak champa, alstonia (sat pattiya), casuarine, ficus, krishna, kadam, palms and madhuca indica. In the latter category are included fish tail palm, Pinus longifolia, champa (fragrant), queen's flower, kachnar, milletia, gulmohar, amaltas, kikkar and barringtonia (chikkri).

However, owing to the scarcity of funds and poor security cover, the garden hardly finds any visitor. It has become a favourite place for anti-social elements. Out of a dozen iron chairs, nine have been stolen from the park. Time for authorities to wake up!

At the peak of militancy in the state, when militants stalked the offices of deputy commissioners and district police chiefs and held the state almost to ransom and many Punjabis surrendered to the 'law' of gun, only a few families chose the path of resistance.

The families of Mr Buta Ram (Amritsar), Mr Balwinder Singh Sandhu (Bhikhiwind) and Bibi Amrik Kaur (Amarkot) were on the forefront in their fight against terrorism at that time. The border towns of Bhikhiwind and Amarkot were the worst-hit during this period.

The family of Comrade Sandhu scripted a history of the sorts by showing unique courage and valour. His is the only family in the country that has received four Shaurya Chakras. The house of Mr Sandhu was located at the most vulnerable point. It was sandwiched between the Indo-Pakistan border and the ancestral house of Parmjit Singh Panjwar, self-styled 'chief' of 'Khalistan Commando Force', who was later declared as India's "Most Wanted Terrorist".

It was Panjwar himself who had led the joint attack on the house of the Sandhus many times. Their house was attacked with rocket launchers, hand grenades for more than 40 times. Initially, when the police failed to come to their rescue, the Sandhus decided to arm themselves.

Their resolve to fight against militants had grown. Mr Sandhu, his wife, Ms Jagdish Kaur, both CPI activists, their two-year-old son Gagandeep Singh (now in class X), Mr Sandhu's older brother Ranjit Singh Sandhu and his wife braved the terrorist attacks. Recalling the old days, Mr Sandhu said that they knew each night could be the family's last one.

The terrorists, hurling choicest abuses during their prowl in the surroundings of their house, would fire from the rooftops of the adjoining buildings. Though the terrorists would attack their house as per date and time declared well in advance, yet the police dared not come to their rescue, they say. However, no one in the family received even a single bullet injury in the 40 attacks. The family was given improvised bulletproof jacket by Com Buta Ram, who also gave a good fight to terrorists.

Another Shaurya Chakra winner is Mr Buta Ram, who set the example by repulsing many terrorist attacks. He was the first resident (civilian category) of Amritsar to receive the Shaurya Chakra for his gallantry. His shop and house, less than two km from the Golden Temple, were veritable fortresses. Unlike most of the Hindus who had migrated to safer places during the hey days of militancy, Mr Buta Ram, President of the Amritsar Kariyana Merchants' Association, did not relocate. He was literally comrade-in-arm and showed unparalleled gallantry.

The citation of the Shaurya Chakra reads, "On May 5, 1987, Mr Buta Ram showed exemplary courage and bravery in fighting the terrorists and was able to overpower two armed terrorists at the risk of his own life. Again on March 30, 1988, while he was sitting in his Kariyana shop, he saw a gang of terrorists indiscriminately opening fire which resulted in the death of one Mr Sat Narain Sharma. Mr Buta Ram, along with his gunmen, engaged the terrorists in gunfire forcing the terrorists to flee. He chased them up to one and a half km and was able to apprehend one of them at grave risk to his own life. He displayed gallantry of a high order in chasing hardcore terrorists and nabbing three of them, thereby preventing loss of many innocent lives".

The then-Prime Minister, Mr V.P. Singh showed keen interest in Mr Buta Ram and got first-hand information on terrorism in Punjab from him during their 45-minute-long talk. Mr Buta Ram is also recipient of the prestigious "Red and White Bravery Award, 1993". Being president of the Amritsar Kariyana Merchants' Association, Buta Ram organised a number of mohalla meetings to maintain peace and harmony in the region. He was attacked even on the eve of the Operation Blue Star.

The story of Bibi Amrik Kaur, called the "lioness' of the border area", is an inspirational one. She continued to fight even as her husband Shabeg Singh, servant Mukhtiyar Singh and four buffalos died in one of the worst attacks launched by militants at their house at Amarkot village. Most of the attacks were engineered by the Babbar Khalsa outfit at behest of its 'chief' Sukhdev Singh Babbar.

Bibi Amrik Kaur would engage the militants in nightlong encounters with the help of her teenage daughter Sarbjit Kaur and sons Nishan Singh and Satnam Singh (they were 16 and 14 years old, respectively, at that time). Though the police had failed to protect the family from such attacks, yet Bibi Amrik Kaur was given adequate weapons, which included Light Machine Gun, AK 47 and even wireless sets. In one of the attacks, she, along with her children, sustained bullet injuries on May 2, 1990.

Mr Amardeep Singh, a jeweller of Amritsar is probably the youngest civilian of Amritsar to receive the Shaurya Chakra. It was a chance encounter with dreaded dacoits last year in the Naxalite-infested Bihar which made Amardeep Singh, a well-known jeweller of the holy city, entitled for prestigious Shaurya Chakra. The police and residents of Patna heaved a sigh of relief to know that two of the four killed were dreaded dacoits carrying a reward of Rs 6 lakh each.

Mr Amardeep Singh had gone to Patna, capital of Bihar, in September last year on a business tour. He was on his way to railway station to catch a train to Bokaro, when he was confronted by four motorcycle-borne unidentified persons. They tried to rob him at the gun point. One of them took out his revolver and fired two shots. In the scuffle, he was hit twice in his right arm. Stunned into submission for a moment, he somehow managed to put up a spirited fight.

One of the dacoits fell down after being hit twice by the bullets. The other dacoit, who tried to attack him, also met the same fate and was seriously injured. Mr Amardeep Singh hit the third person, who was trying to run away, in the leg.

The incident occurred in a crowded place of the city, but no one came forward to his rescue. Even a rickshaw-puller refused to take him to hospital. He had to walk two km to get the first aid. When he reached hospital, one of the dacoits was already undergoing operation. Mr Amardeep Singh had also undergone an operation to remove two bullets from his right arm. Though police and media appreciated him for his courage, a companion of the culprits threatened him with dire consequences.

However, Mr Sandhu and Bibi Amrik Kaur have decided to return the Shaurya Chakras due to alleged government indifference.