A day as a tourist in own town

A few days back, I explored the walled city of my hometown, Amritsar. I had never gone beyond the route to the Golden Temple. Thanks to my neighbours who inundated me with its many intriguing tales, labelling it as a ‘world of its own’, I eventually cycled to that area, just before the crack of dawn.

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Within minutes, I was awe-struck. I was suddenly winding through narrow lanes, amid vintage architecture, dating not only from the colonial times but also from Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s era. Many structures were lying abandoned, with trees growing on rooftops, but their unique doors, windows, balconies and sitting spaces whispered many stories to me. Urdu notes were engraved on some walls.

What followed me were also many little temples and early risers heading in and out. While I was outside a gurdwara, I saw devotees stepping in with cow-dung cakes. There were also shops nearby selling them. I learnt that it’s a ritual here to offer them, which are used as fuel for preparing langar every Sunday. I noted the name of the gurdwara: Toba Bhai Shalo Ji, and decided to go there soon.

Old-fashioned bakeries, preparing their first batches — many functional since the 1940s — kept flashing before my eyes. I always slowed down for the aroma they rolled out, but in one street, I had to linger to take in all the fragrance in the air. Merci to a host of traditional perfume shops lined there. Though they stood shuttered in that early hour, they failed to shutter out their mesmerising fragrances.

‘Ambarsar also makes perfumes and Golden Temple ardently uses them,’ an elderly man passing by told me. I was oblivious to this. As my nose was still busy, I saw two horse carriages. I waved towards them like a child and wondered if they still existed!

Reaching home, I excitedly phoned a friend, presenting my experiences, which galvanised him to take me on a tour in the evening. It was a lively affair; we combed through historic bazaars, dedicated to traditional foods and things, where many aromas and noises mingled. We sampled street food, ending with dinner at Kesar Da Dhaba, which I had seen on TV shows, like the many bazaars here.

As I retired to bed, I was filled with an exceptional elation, but I also regretted not having explored this world earlier, where the true spirit of Amritsar lay. I was a tourist that day in my own town. Many of us take pride in our travels abroad, but forget to discover the charms of the place we belong to. This visit thrilled me more than the trips to old towns I had seen in foreign lands.