Jalandhar through Nani’s eyes

Jalandhar, a city steeped in history and vibrant culture, holds a special place in my heart, not just for its ancient roots and bustling markets, but because it was once Nani’s beloved home. While the city itself boasts landmarks like the revered Devi Talab Mandir and the bustling Sadar Bazaar, my memories gravitate towards a quieter, more personal corner of Jalandhar.

Nani’s house, nestled in a tree-lined street of Model Town, was a sanctuary of warmth and endless stories. The scent of her homemade pickles always wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet fragrance of jasmine from the garden. Mornings would begin with the gentle clatter of chai cups and the sound of Punjabi folk songs drifting from the radio. The sun-drenched courtyard provided a stage for my childhood games, and the sprawling mango tree in the backyard was a silent witness to countless whispered secrets and shared laughter.

Evenings were reserved for Nani's captivating tales of old Jalandhar – stories of Partition, of resilience, and of the community that thrived amidst change. She would describe the old markets, now transformed, and the serene beauty of the city before it embraced modernity. Her stories painted vivid pictures of a Jalandhar that existed beyond the guidebooks, a city brought to life through her words.

Though years have passed and the city has evolved, the Jalandhar I cherish most is inextricably linked to Nani’s home. It’s a place of comforting routines, of delicious aromas, and of a grandmother’s unwavering love, a personal history woven into the very fabric of this remarkable city.

Aashi Dhingra, Phagwara