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lnw slot 789 ยินดีต้อนรับสู่เว็บไซต์ คาสิโนออนไลน์

lnw slot 789 ฝาก-ถอนอัตโนมัติภายใน 10 วินาที เว็บพนัน lnw789 ที่ดีที่สุดในเอเชีย คาสิโนออนไลน์ สล็อต พนันท้องถิ่น แทงบอลออนไลน์ และพนันกีฬาต่างๆ รองรับทุกอุปกรณ์ ใช้ระบบ IOS และ Android (Andriod) ไม่ต้องดาวน์โหลด เล่นบนมือถือได้ไม่มีปัญหา เว็บไซต์ของเราเป็นช่องทางที่คุณสามารถวางเดิมพันบอลออนไลน์ได้ทุกที่ทุกเวลา เพื่อไม่ให้พลาดการเชียร์ทีมโปรดหรือแมตช์สำคัญ พร้อมตารางการแข่งขันที่อัปเดต อัตราต่อรอง อัตราต่อรองสูงสุด รีวิว ความคิดเห็น ลิงค์ถ่ายทอดสด ดูบอลออนไลน์ ไฮไลท์บอลผ่านเว็บ ระบบโบนัสใหม่ล่าสุดที่พัฒนาอย่างต่อเนื่อง โปรโมชั่นต่างๆ ที่เรามอบให้ตัวเองสุดหัวใจ รับเงินคืนทุกยอดเดิมพัน

 

lnw slot 789 ยินดีต้อนรับสู่เว็บไซต์ คาสิโนออนไลน์

lnw slot 789 เราเป็นเว็บไซต์ที่มีคาสิโนออนไลน์ที่ครบครันที่สุด บาคาร่าออนไลน์ ภาพสวยที่สุด รูเล็ต ไฮโล เสือมังกร กำถั่ว เราแยกเกมบาคาร่าและพื้นที่เกมอย่างชัดเจน นั่นคือ สล็อตออนไลน์ ยิงปลา เพื่อให้ลูกค้าได้เข้าเล่นได้ง่ายขึ้น นอกจากนี้ระบบเว็บของเราเป็นระบบฝาก-ถอนอัตโนมัติ ภายใน 10-30 วินาที ลูกค้าจึงไม่ต้องอดทนรอนาน อีกทั้งเมื่อเล่นเกมคาสิโน ไม่ต้องโอนเงินให้น่าเบื่อเหมือนเว็บอื่น lnwslot อีกต่อไป หมดปัญหาเรื่องเงินหายหรือปิดค่ายเกมแล้วโอนเงินไม่ได้อีกต่อไป กดเล่นก็เล่นได้ทันที และเมื่อถอนเงินก็ถอนได้ทันที ไม่จำเป็นต้องมีการทำเทิร์นโอเวอร์ใดๆ ทั้งสิ้น

 

พนันบอล เว็บพนันบอลออนไลน์ที่ดีที่สุด ฝาก-ถอน ไม่มีขั้นต่ำ

คือการเล่นผ่านเว็บพนันบอลออนไลน์ lnwslot789 หรือ คาสิโนออนไลน์ ไม่มีขั้นต่ำในการฝากเงิน และรวดเร็วที่สุด สามารถทำรายการได้ตลอด 24 ชม. ทำให้ลูกค้าสามารถเข้าใช้งานเว็บพนันได้ง่าย โดยไม่ต้องเสียเวลาคอยเพิ่มเครดิต เนื่องจากเว็บไซต์ของเรามีระบบฝาก-ถอนเงินอัตโนมัติ ขอพนันบอลผ่านหน้าเว็บ ทำรายการเสร็จภายใน 1 นาที และสามารถเล่นหน้าเว็บไซต์ได้ทั้งบน PC และสมาร์ทโฟน เว็บพนันออนไลน์ lnwslot ครบวงจรอันดับต้นๆ ของเอเชียในปัจจุบัน ซึ่งมีเว็บพนันออนไลน์ให้เลือกหลากหลาย และปรับแต่งและแก้ไขข้อบกพร่องของเว็บไซต์อื่นๆ เพื่อให้คุณได้สนุกกับการเข้าถึงเว็บพนัน ซึ่งมีบริการต่างๆ เช่น ไฮโล บอล มวย คาสิโน บาคาร่า เกมส์ และโปรแกรมกีฬาออนไลน์อื่นๆ อีกมากมายให้คุณเลือก

 

เว็บพนันที่ดีที่สุด เว็บไซต์ใหญ่ จ่ายจริง จ่ายไม่หยุด

เว็บพนัน lnw789 ปัจจุบันมีเว็บพนันออนไลน์อยู่มากมาย ส่วนใหญ่จะเป็นเว็บพนันออนไลน์ที่เปิดบริการ เพราะทางเว็บไซต์รู้ดีว่าปัจจุบันนี้ถือเป็นยุคทองของเว็บพนันออนไลน์แล้ว! เว็บพนันออนไลน์สร้างความพึงพอใจมายาวนาน น่าจะเริ่มมาตั้งแต่ยุคอินเตอร์เน็ตแล้ว หรือการท่องเว็บก็กลายเป็นเรื่องที่น่าพอใจ เว็บพนันออนไลน์ lnwslot789 ก็เป็นหนึ่งในนั้น ซึ่งเริ่มดึงดูดให้ผู้คนสนใจเข้ามาเล่นมากขึ้นเรื่อยๆ แต่ในทิศทางตรงกันข้าม เมื่อเว็บพนันออนไลน์ผุดขึ้นมาเป็นดอกเห็ด ทำให้นักพนันมีทางเลือกมากขึ้นในการเลือกเว็บพนันออนไลน์

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inw99gtr โปรโมชั่นดี ของแถมฟรีทุกวัน

inw99gtr พบกันอีกแล้ว กลับมาพบกับความยิ่งใหญ่ของเว็บสล็อต ที่เป็นอันดับหนึ่งในประเทศไทย ซึ่งในเว็บไซต์ของเรานั้นเป็นกระแสฮิตที่ใครๆ ก็พูดถึงกันในเดือนพฤศจิกายนนี้ ในเรื่องของการเป็นเว็บ Inw99th ทำเงิน หลายๆ คนเห็นว่าอยากสมัครกับเรามากถึงวันละ 1,000 คนเลยทีเดียว เพราะเราเชี่ยวชาญระบบที่ไวต่อความลื่นไหล ไม่สะดุด และใช้งานง่าย ทำให้หลายๆ คนสามารถเล่นกับเราได้อย่างไม่มีสะดุด เล่นได้ทั้งวันทั้งคืน เพราะคุณติดใจโบนัสและโปรโมชั่นของเราแล้ว แถมตัวออริจินัลของเรายังเป็นฟอร์แมตเรียลไทม์อีกด้วย BLGWLN

 

inw99gtr โปรโมชั่นดี ของแถมฟรีทุกวัน

inw99gtr ที่จะปฏิวัติเว็บไซต์พนัน Allin99win ที่ไม่ดูแลลูกค้า ตอบช้า ไม่สนใจ เราไม่ทำแบบนั้นแน่นอน เราดูแลลูกค้าของเราเหมือนคนในครอบครัว เรามาถึงที่นี่แล้ว ไม่ใช่เรื่องบังเอิญ เราอยู่ที่นี่เพื่อทำให้คุณยิ้มได้ เราแจกกันแบบรัวๆ ไม่ต้องกลัว ส่วนรางวัลเงินสดเรามีให้มากกว่าเว็บอื่น สนุกจนไม่อยากออกไปไหนเลย และสล็อตของเรามีรางวัลโบนัสมากมาย เช่น ทองคำแท่ง 6 ล้านบาท 10 บาท ถ้ารางวัลน้อยเราก็มีมากกว่าที่เราเพิ่งพูดถึง มาดูโปรโมชั่นเด็ดๆ กันเลย

 

เราไม่เคยทำให้ผิดหวัง

การเดิมพันได้เริ่มขึ้นแล้ว BLGWLN พร้อมแล้วสำหรับทุกท่าน มาลองค้นหากับประสบการณ์ใหม่ที่ท่านไม่สามารถหาได้จากที่อื่น เคยเกิดขึ้นมาก่อนแล้ว เงินของท่านเริ่มต้นกับเรา ท่านมั่นใจได้เลยว่าจะได้รับคืนเป็นสองเท่าอย่างแน่นอน อยากร่ำรวย เลือกสิ่งที่ใช่ ทางเลือกที่ดีไม่ใช่แค่เล่นแล้วได้เงิน ตัวเลือกนี้คือ สิ่งนี้เอง ตอนนี้อยู่ตรงหน้าท่านแล้ว ท่านจะได้ทั้งเงินและประสบการณ์ใหม่ นอกจากนี้ยังมีโปรโมชั่น ของดี ของเจ๋งๆ แจกฟรี และมีสิทธิ์ลุ้นเพิ่ม ทุกการเดิมพันของเรา ได้เงินจริงแน่นอนที่ Allin99win

 

เล่นให้ดีและระมัดระวัง รับรองรวยแน่นอน

มาว่ากันเรื่องการควบคุมอารมณ์กันดีกว่าครับ ต้องควบคุมอารมณ์ให้ได้ เพราะไม่ใช่เรื่องดี หากเราอารมณ์เสีย ผลที่ได้จะไม่เป็นอย่างที่คิด ต้องควบคุมจิตใจให้ดี ตั้งสติให้มั่นคง แล้วคุณจะพบแสงสว่างในตัวเราเอง นั่นคือเราต้องไม่หลงทางไปกับเรื่องร้ายๆ เมื่อวางเดิมพัน เราต้องคิดให้รอบคอบเสียก่อน เพราะเกมของเรามีมากมาย คุณต้องรู้จักเกมเหล่านี้ก่อน และวิธีการที่พวกเขาใช้ เราพิจารณาผู้เล่นกี่คน พวกเขาเล่นยังไง นี่เป็นการวิเคราะห์เบื้องต้นครับ เพราะเป็นส่วนสำคัญของการตัดสินใจ บางทีเราอาจเห็นสิ่งต่าง ๆ แตกต่างจากคนอื่น Inw99th

The post inw99gtr โปรโมชั่นดี ของแถมฟรีทุกวัน  appeared first on INW99TH.

A holiday to mourn

On 17th August, the restaurants and cinema halls did brisk business. Holiday plans were made as Friday being declared a holiday led to extended weekend. It was a day of fun and frolic.

As kids we loved impromptu holidays.  The day being declared off just after you have reached the school was super exciting. The school uniform still crisp, untouched lunch box, filled water bottle in hand, loaded school bag lounging on the back, I would knock at my door to face a baffled mother. A boring regular day had suddenly turned interesting. The day would be ours – full of unhindered and uninterrupted play. Why it was a day off, which national leader has died and how are we paying homage to a great person by having a field day was least of our concern. We had a rightful holiday was all that mattered.  Now when I am on the other side of the fence and the kids have moved out and migrated to college, the feeling of exhilaration is replaced with one of despair especially when you are eagerly waiting for your son to come home from the hostel.  The postponing of exams results into holiday plans being dumped and the flights being cancelled. Not to mention about the loss of money for the tickets cancelled. At the macro level, there is no accountability for the number of productive man hours lost, hampered production, industry losses due to closure of banks.

Mahatma Gandhi is the father of the nation and it is our birthright to have a holiday on his birthday. Quiz people on Gandhi and many still think our national father to be a close relative of Indira Gandhi. To keep the tradition of celebrating Gandhi Jayanti alive, a few rural and semi urban schools organize various competitions on the life of Gandhi but certainly not on 2nd Oct. It is the day to have fun with family and friends.

What is the objective of declaring a holiday at the death of a national leader or even for innumerable Jayantis such as Gandhi Jayanti, Basava Jayanti and the list is endless? Are we sitting at home and praying for the departed soul or even learning more about the person? No, there is no time for that, we have other plans.

For sure, if the statesman himself could give his opinion, he would’ve asked us to work an hour extra to pay him our homage in the true sense. We need a selfless leader like Atal Bihari Vajpayee to bring a change in the legislation.

 

 

The lingering taste of Betal leaf

Rohtak: 1976. I don’t eat paan because I don’t like its bitter sweet taste, the liquid mixing with saliva and the entire process of preparing and then putting the leaf  in my mouth. My aversion to betal leaf goes back to my school days in Rohtak when I was in class 3rd or 4th. Every day I commuted to school on rickshaw along with four five other children. In the afternoons, during our rides back home, it was almost a routine for the rickshaw guy to stop in front of a paan shop to pick up a beeda. He will be back quickly but not before the children have brought the roof down with their cries of ‘Bhaiya jaldi aayo (come soon). For the rest of the ride, while his feet worked on the pedal, his mouth talked nineteen to dozen, now and then his one hand would leave the handle and would reach the corner of his mouth to wipe the coloured droplets of the beeda. Then he would slow down to spit on the road. It was definitely not a pleasing sight for the children. Moreover none of the children liked to stop on the way.

‘Bhaiya rukna mat (don’t stop).’ We cribbed about this compulsory halt when we would be near the paan shop.

‘Chalo tum ko bhi aaj paan khilata hoon,’ he said alighting from the rickshaw. ‘Sab baccho ke liye meetha paan,’ he said to the paanwala.

And quickly sweet paans were prepared for the children. This was my first experience with paan. I was reluctant but when prodded by other children, I kept the folded betal leaf on my tongue and closed my mouth tightly. It was anything but sweet. I was instructed to chew it slowly letting the juices mix with my saliva. I followed the instructions with my eyes closed. I felt like puking. We started the journey back home. I kept the paan in my mouth for the fear of its juices falling out from my mouth and soiling my uniform. I wanted to spit it out but didn’t do for the fear of being mocked. The other children including my younger sister Guria were enjoying the paan as if they were seasoned paan chewers. No sooner did the rickshaw stop in front of my house, I ran inside to spit out that thing in the trash bin, promising never to taste the poison again.

Decades have passed but my aversion to betal leaf continues. I am also wiser now not to give in to persuasion. I have developed ample self-control not to get tempted to try a new and flavoured variety of paan. Whatever it is, a paan is a paan.

A few years ago, at Charu Anand’s wedding in Bangalore, I gave in. It was not the paan but the ceremonies around serving the paan which made me go to the paanwala thrice to demand a sweet paan. Sitting on a heavily decorated platform, the turbaned guy would prepare the paan, ring the bell as in a temple, swing his arms, encircle the beeda thrice around your face before offering it to you while the loud Bollywood music played in the background. It was pure fun. Of course I didn’t eat the paan, I gave it to my better half who has taken a vow to never  venture into a lane where a paan shop is located.

https://youtu.be/Gn0ADny__cE

The show must go on…

Daddy & Mommy in 1971

In 1970s mother was posted at Rohtak as the district PRO. Her office and the residence were adjoining, a door separating the two. In the dull evenings, we three sisters would pester our parents to take us out and we would go to a movie theatre. My school was situated about three to four kms from home and there were four to five cinema theatres on both sides of the road leading to the school. At 2.30 pm when Guria and I travelled back home in the rickshaw, we curiously turned our necks around for new movie posters. Guria and I studied in Vidya Niketan school where as Neetu was in Vaish High school. When the movie Rickshaw wala was released starring Neetu Singh, a brand new shiny rickshaw festooned with balloons and ribbons adorned the roof of the theatre.

On reaching home, we would barge into mother’s cabin to rant out the names of new releases. Father was a professor in the University (which was the regional centre of Punjab University) and was home by afternoon anyway. 6 pm show was the obvious choice as mother would be done with her meetings by then but on those rare days, when the work load was lighter, she would give in and we would watch the 4 pm show. Quickly she would call the DC to seek his permission and then instruct her subordinates to reach out to her at the particular theatre in case of any urgent work.

On learning that DPRO madam has come to the theatre with her family, the manager would swing into action ushering us to the box room reserved for VIPs. While our parents focused on the big screen, our eyes would be glued to the door of the box room. Then the door would creak open and we would first spot the aluminum tray bearing plates of Samosas and then the bearer of the tray. After some time, sweet juicy rasgullas followed, tea for the adults and juice for the children later. We sisters didn’t understand much of the movie; it were the snacks which were captivating. Mother made sure that nothing was complementary for her and her entourage – neither the tickets nor the snacks.

1997: Nikhil, our first born

Fast forward to three decades later: In Bangalore, after marriage, my obsession with cinema continued with movies taking precedence over samosas. Interestingly Rajiv was even fonder than me so he didn’t need any cajoling. He would be ready before me. Nikhil, our precocious three years was forced to accompany us. That evening when the family had a movie date, the child was kept awake during the day so that he would sleep in the theatre. In the interval hot dogs, popcorns, chips and other snacks were brought as a reward for the little one for allowing us to watch the movie peacefully.

At home, when Rajiv and I would still be contemplating watching a movie, Nikhil would start jumping with joy; he would coax us, pester us and would not stop until we have bought the tickets.

‘Only three years old and so much interest in movies! Not good for a child,’ I voiced out my annoyance at Rajiv. When the father feigned indifference, I addressed the son.

‘Nikhil, what do you like the most in a movie?’ I asked with an intention to understand my child.

He looked up from the heap of blocks he was playing with. ‘Interval!’

Vidya Niketan School, Model Town Rohtak

Singing patriotic songs at a district function. L-R Girls – Bani Mehta, Neeru, Anju, Neelam, Shailja Sareen, Yours Truly

I studied at Vidya Niketan School from 2nd to 5th std. The school was also known as Dawar School named after its Founder principal – D.C. Dawar, an elderly man whom we addressed as Pita ji. Grey haired, 6 ft 3 inches tall, broad-built, rimless glasses on an authoritative face, Pita ji was always dressed in a Khadi dhoti and kurta. A sleeveless jacket popularly called Nehru jacket

over stark white dhoti kurta was his signature attire. Holding one end of his dhoti, he roamed around the school, the click clack of his khadau announcing his arrival thus alerting the children.

 

Even with a strict headmaster, the school was anything but a regular school. The emphasis was more on imparting moral education than just academics. The teachers were addressed as Didi.

In the morning, after getting down from rickshaws (manual rickshaws were the most popular mode of transportation at that time), greeting Pita ji in his office was the first thing the children were instructed to do. Pita ji would be half l

Receiving prize from the chief guest for the group song. Since mother was the anchor for the show, her daughter had to be the one to receive prize on behalf of the school.

ying, half sitting on the diwan in his room as he suffered from a back issue. The students would peep into his room to say a quick ‘Namaste Pita ji.’ Some boys who wore mischief on their sleeve would utter Peepa ji (peepa in Hindi mean box) and exit hurriedly with a mischievous grin dancing on their faces. They would later announce about their adventure to their friends with utmost pride.

 

Always speak the truth and confess about your misdeeds were the two mottos the institute believed in and the students except a handful of notorious ones practiced in total. Each class had about ten twelve students. The class room had an oval shaped table with small wooden chairs around it as of a conference room.

Since Pita ji was a Gandhian, the school uniform was of handspun Khadi -Blue skirt (girls), shorts (boys) and white shirt. The girls could wear salwar Kameez if they wanted to. The teachers also wore uniform – blue kameez and white salwar of the same fabric as for the students.

Exam days were like any other days. There was no fixed time period to finish the exam. One could take as much time to write the exam as one wanted. Some children finished it in two hours and some took even five hours. After handing over the handwritten question papers to the children, the teacher would go to teach some other class. Invigilation wasn’t required. No one cheated, not even the mischievous ones, no one looked into the text book lying next to them, they just wrote whatever they knew.

The school also believed in inculcating the habit of speaking the truth whatever the situation. If someone lied or indulged in a mischief, he or she was expected to voluntarily walk into the headmaster’s office and say ‘Pita ji, I lied.’, ‘Pita ji I beat someone’ etc etc. Then Pita ji’s bare hands would beat the offender black and blue. Those who have had the beatings knew he only moved his hands and arms in a way as if he was beating wildly but it didn’t hurt at all. It was only a deterrence to other children. I remember getting ‘beatings’ only once when I scribbled on the back of a girl’s shirt with pencil.

Indrani was the name of Pita’s wife. Grey hair, serene face, bespectacled in a cream color sari with palla pulled in front like Gujarati sari, Mata ji remained at her house most of the time. Located at the rear, their house was a sparkling clean house with not even a speck of dust. The children were prohibited from entering the house. It was a matter of extreme privilege to be allowed into their house to convey a message to Mata ji who stayed inside most of the time except when she would step out to replace a teacher who was on leave.

The two vacant plots adjoining and in front of the school were used as playgrounds and for eating lunch. No child was allowed to eat in the classroom. In the playground, the students couldn’t sit by themselves. They had to mingle with other children. I remember when I was new to the school, once I was sitting by myself in the playground in the lunch break, when Pita ji came on his rounds, he made me get up and sit with other children. I was shy, moved only a little and spoke even lesser.

Lily Ghai was my best friend. Two pig tails on a round face, large eyelashes fluttering on big brown eyes, chubby cheeks, Lily always wore a broad smile. She lived at the walking distance from the school and some time when my rickshaw was late, she would ask me to come to her house where I was fed a variety of things by her mother. The rickshaw guy knew where to look for me if I wasn’t at school. Lily’s mother had short hair and was always dressed in elegantly draped saris. Since my mother was the district PRO and was always busy in something official, it felt odd to me that Lily’s mother was always hovering around her daughter instructing her, questioning her, monitoring her moments.

Pic shot at my house at our farewell party Feb 1976 – L-R Lily, Yours truly, Bani Mehta. Neelam

When mother got transferred to Chandigarh and I left school, I lost touch with Lily. She somehow located me when she got engaged to a boy in Karnal. I wanted to attend her wedding but fell sick on the same day and missed an opportunity to reconnect with her. We lost touch again but I somehow located her after a few years and invited her for my wedding. Lily came with her husband and son. Lily was Manisha now. In her in-laws family, there was a custom to change the daughter-in-law’s name. In those times when writing letters was the only medium to stay connected, we lost touch again. I have tried to trace her on social media but couldn’t.

Lily with her husband and son at my wedding in Delhi May 18, 1991

Shailja Sareen was another classmate I remember. Shailja was the topper and hated it if any other student performed better than her. Wheatish complexion, two high ponytails on a long face, Shailja had unusually wide gaps between her teeth but she was smart enough to use this to her advantage.

‘Open your mouth, let me see if there are gaps between your teeth,’ Shailja would instruct the children in the class.

‘See there is hardly any gap between your teeth,’ she would announce to the opened mouths. ‘Those who have gaps are very intelligent. Look I have gaps,’ Shailja would declare revealing her pearly white. Even without any dental gaps, I stood second in class. I remember getting story books as prizes on the day of the result.

Bani Mehta, my senior was the most stylish girl of our school. Neelam was another classmate but I don’t remember anything about her.

A House in Ramsukh Das Colony Rohtak – 2

L-R : Younger sister Guria, Yours truly and Meenakshi

1971: Those days TV had still not made inroads into people’s drawing rooms. For the middle class, there were hardly any avenues of  entertainment. Sometimes in the evenings, PRO office showed Hindi patriotic movies on a big projector to public- Jagriti , Boot Polish, Poorab Pashchim to name a few. The excitement would start building up before the sunset. People would leave office early, finish dinner quickly so that they could watch the movie on the sandy ground outside the PR office. But only the entertainment was provided, the public had to bring their own chairs or charpais to sit on. Being ‘madam’ children, the front area was reserved for us and our chairs were brought from the office by Mauji, the office boy.

Two years later when the TV was introduced, B & W TV sets were sent to the PRO office for testing before those could be sent to the villages to be purchased by panchayats at subsidized price. Though hardly interested in watching B &W TV with poor reception, TV was a bonanza for us sisters. Only our house in the entire city had a TV. Wednesday was the Chitrahaar day and Sunday the day of the Hindi feature film.

Paternal grandparents Dr Chaman Lal Gulati and Mrs Suhagwanti Gulati

Come Sunday 6 pm and the public would throng the PRO office to watch the movie. The set was kept in mother’s room. By privilege we sisters had the authority to give front seats to our friends or those who were extra nice to us. I can remember issuing tickets, assigning people the row and number of the chairs. Obviously no money was charged. It gave us a thrill to turn down people because of non-availability of chairs. On those rare Sundays when the number of film watchers were a few, mother would ask Mauji to make tea and pakodas for everyone to be served during the interval, all complementary.

A House in Ramsukh Das Colony Rohtak – 1

L-R Daddy, Mommy, Bauji & Beeji ( paternal grandparents), Tayiji and Tayaji
Sitting down: Neetu, Arun, Guria and yours truly

A few of my early childhood memories are of our house in Rohtak which was the official residence of my mother Sharda Gulati who served as the Public Relations Officer of Rohtak district in Haryana from 1971 – 76. Constructed during the British era, a portion of the building was the residence and the rest the PR office. Built on a plot of about two kanal, it was a massive house with high ceilings and thick walls. Three 24 by 24 ft rooms, parallel to each other, the doors as tall as 18 ft all in one line, if all doors were open, standing outside the house, one could see right through the last room. There were no cupboards but only a few inbuilt cement shelves where we kept out clothes, books etc. The outside room mainly used as a passage had only a folding sofa and a few chairs. There was also a store room next to the outside room from whose ceiling the mud fell sometimes. The two large rooms were enough for a family of five –our parents and we three sisters. The middle room was used as drawing cum dining and in the last room, we lay cots to sleep. As compared to the mammoth rooms, the kitchen was small and dark where one had to sit down to cook. The house had one bathroom, an attached one to the bedroom but the toilet was situated at the extreme corner of the house after crossing the rear veranda and huge open space. When it rained, we had to take an umbrella to go to the toilet. Interestingly and funnily, the toilet neither had a roof nor a door. A mug or a stick placed on its wall was an indication that it was currently occupied.

Pic shot in the backyard

The backyard was lined with tall eucalyptus trees but due to sandy soil no vegetation could be grown there.

The house was built on a 4ft porch. The ground outside the house was full of sand where we played with the neighbourhood children in the evening. Throwing sand into each other’s hair was the most common expression of anger.

Mother’s office also had an entry from the residence. During the office hours, we were at school but on holidays and in the evenings, we loved to play office office in her cabin. Her cushy chair, a hand towel hung on its back, a table crowded with files and paper, her office had a natural air of authority. Workers, office people, visitors sauntered in and out of the house the entire day and into the evening. Since mother was a district PRO, people came in with all kinds of issues. After my mother was transferred to Chandigarh, the house was demolished. I remember my friends Leela Saini whose family reared buffaloes and sold milk, Anju Khanna, Choti.

A House in Ram Sukh Das Colony Rohtak – 1

L-R Daddy, Mommy, Bauji & Beeji ( paternal grandparents), Tayiji and Tayaji
Sitting down: Neetu, Arun, Guria and yours truly

A few of my early childhood memories are of our house in Rohtak which was the official residence of my mother Sharda Gulati who served as the Public Relations Officer of Rohtak district in Haryana from 1971 – 76. Constructed during the British era, a portion of the building was the residence and the rest the PR office. Built on a plot of about two kanal, it was a massive house with high ceilings and thick walls. Three 24 by 24 ft rooms, parallel to each other, the doors as tall as 18 ft all in one line, if all doors were open, standing outside the house, one could see right through the last room. There were no cupboards but only a few inbuilt cement shelves where we kept out clothes, books etc. The outside room mainly used as a passage had only a folding sofa and a few chairs. There was also a store room next to the outside room from whose ceiling the mud fell sometimes. The two large rooms were enough for a family of five –our parents and we three sisters. The middle room was used as drawing cum dining and in the last room, we lay cots to sleep. As compared to the mammoth rooms, the kitchen was small and dark where one had to sit down to cook. The house had one bathroom, an attached one to the bedroom but the toilet was situated at the extreme corner of the house after crossing the rear veranda and huge open space. When it rained, we had to take an umbrella to go to the toilet. Interestingly and funnily, the toilet neither had a roof nor a door. A mug or a stick placed on its wall was an indication that it was currently occupied.

Pic shot in the backyard

The backyard was lined with tall eucalyptus trees but due to sandy soil no vegetation could be grown there.

The house was built on a 4ft porch. The ground outside the house was full of sand where we played with the neighbourhood children in the evening. Throwing sand into each other’s hair was the most common expression of anger.

Mother’s office also had an entry from the residence. During the office hours, we were at school but on holidays and in the evenings, we loved to play office office in her cabin. Her cushy chair, a hand towel hung on its back, a table crowded with files and paper, her office had a natural air of authority. Workers, office people, visitors sauntered in and out of the house the entire day and into the evening. Since mother was a district PRO, people came in with all kinds of issues. After my mother was transferred to Chandigarh, the house was demolished. I remember my friends Leela Saini whose family reared buffaloes and sold milk, Anju Khanna, Choti.

Aggressive Book Marketing: How much is too much?

Last week at the fuel station while I leaned against my car, my eyes fixed on the meter as the guy held the nozzle of the tube to the fuel tank, a car stopped in the parallel lane. The lady on the wheel was a corporate professional who I follow on social media. Not wanting to let go of the opportunity to meet the woman in person, I walked over to the other side leaving my fuel tank to the honesty of the petrol guy. I peeped into her window and praised her about her thoughtful posts. It was flattering to learn that she knew about my book .

‘Ok, nice meeting you, Let me know when you are in Mysore next, would love to meet you,’ I said when the guy gestured me that he was done.

‘But you haven’t bought my book.’ Saying this, she took out a book from a bag kept on the passenger seat.

‘Oh I didn’t know you have written a book,’ I said, embarrassed at my ignorance.

She threw a smile at me. ‘Now you know.’ Then she gave me a quick gist of the book as she held the book for me, very clear in her expressions that the book is only for sale and not a gift.

‘I am sorry I don’t have money now. May be next time when we meet, I can bring my book and we can exchange our books,’ I said uncertainly, not sure if it was appropriate to indulge in book shopping at a public place amidst honking. (Book exchange is a common practice amongst authors)

She drew in a long breath. ‘But I don’t read fiction.’

For once, the incessant honking was pleasing to the ears.