Joyrides in rickshaws and toy trains in memory lanes of Ludhiana

I was born in Ludhiana in a middle-class home where luxuries were rare but love was plenty. No Audis or BMWs graced our streets — only Raja Ram’s faithful rickshaw, carrying me from nursery to senior school, past the bustling lanes of Ghantaghar Chowk, where hawkers’ cries mingled with the city’s heartbeat.

School recess meant sitting on grass in the lawns, friends sharing mom-made food in not-so-fancy tiffins. Books were sacred; if one fell on the ground, we picked up and kissed it with reverence, fearing bad luck. Childhood joy lived in small treasures — the roadside bioscope where we could peer together, chewing bubble-gum, “pass-fail” leaf games, collecting scented erasers, bright sharpeners, colourful pencils with cartoons.

Hanging out with friends meant a stroll through Chaura Bazaar. The smell of jalebis, the sight of dupattas swaying in small shops in narrow lanes, and the thrill of spending our tiny savings. Afternoons brought golgappa walas in the galli, with grandparents calling the vendor by name.

Weekends were for the toy train ride at Rakh Bag. The ride lasted only a few minutes but the joy was akin to travelling across the world — at just two rupees a ticket.

— Simi Gandhi, Amritsar