Guru ki nagri then & now

We came to Amritsar in 1942 during World War II as Burma evacuees. I was 7 or 8. Amritsar was then a small city encircled by three well-maintained concentric roads (an inner circular road and an outer circular road for slow traffic), and skirted by a mile-thick green cover of pear, guava, loquat, plum and mango orchards. Besides these orchards, it also had numerous parks.

The most prominent architectural feature visible to an entrant then was the towering Baba Atal, besides Girja Ghar’s spire (church). As the latter used to strike the hour, it was aptly called the ‘Ghanta Ghar’. Most houses were single-storeyed and no balconies, ramps or protective grills encroaching on the public space were tolerated. Infringements attracted immediate penalty.

All roads were swept and sprinkled with water by water-vans pulled by an ox before the residents woke up in the morning. A ‘darogha’ would daily inspect the cleaned roads. Garbage was transported a nine-coach train, pulled by couple of whistling steam locomotives, running on a narrow gauge railway around the southern half of the town.

For their water needs, all households depended on their well-oiled hand pumps. The city had open drains by the roadside, but these were never choked, and were cleaned daily, with silt removed on donkeys. The floating population of dogs was culled every six months.

Cinema houses like Chitra, Liberty, Ashok and others screened movie shows three times every day for thousands of city folks.

We didn’t understand the meaning of ‘stray cattle’ for there were none. Why should a cow or horse be called ‘stray’? But all that has fallen victim to human greed, love of comfort, speed and above all political indifference which have marred the so-called development. However, the abode of Guru Ram Das still remains a tourism destination and sees a record footfall of air travelers.

Prof Mohan Singh, Amritsar