हे राम

 सरयू  नदी  का  तट   हो 

पीपल   का  विशाल  वट हो

भोर - रात्रि  का  काल  हो 

और  रामजी  प्रकट  हो 

हाथ  में  स्वर्ण धनुष  हो 

पीठ  पे  तीरों भरा तरकश  हो 

आँखों  से  झलकता  प्यार  हो 

और  मुख  पे  मुस्कान  हो 

सर  मेरा  झुका  सा  हो 

हाथ  उनके  मेरे सर पर   हो 

धीरेसे  पूछे  मुझसे   वो 

मांगने  क्या  आये  हो 

आपकी   कृपा  से  तो 

चल  रहा  जहां   जो 

सिर्फ  मुझ  को  आप  बदल  दो 

मेरे  अंदर  के  रावण  को  मार  दो 

कौन  सा  वो  रावण  है 

जो  आज  भी  अमर  है 

क्या  वो  भी  दस  मुख  धारी दैत्य  है 

बता  वो  तुझमे कहाँ  छिपा  है 

तो  उठाओ  बाण  हे  राम 

चलाओ  तीर  मेरे  राम 

ध्वस्त  करो  मेरे अंदर के  रावण  को  राम 

मुक्त  करो  मुझे  हे  राम 

नाश  करो  मेरे  काम , क्रोध, मोह  को  

ध्वस्त  करो  मेरे  लोभ , माध , मात्सर्य   को 

अंत  करो  मेरे  अहंकार , कुबुद्धि , मानस  और  चित्त  को 

करो  विनाश  आज  इन  सभीको 

चलाओ  अपने  ब्रह्मास्त्र  को 

विनाश  करो  मेरे  रावण  को 

तीर  ऐसे  चलाओ  तो 

फिर  जाग   न  पाये  वो 

चलाओ  मेरे  मस्तिष्क  पर 

चलाओ  मेरे  हाथों  पर 

चलाओ  मेरे  ह्रदय  पर 

जहाँ  मेरे  कुकर्म  और  कुबुद्धि  का  है घर 

पर  इस  बार  ध्यान  रखना  तुम 

पहले  की  तरह  इस  बार  ना  तुम 

मारना  नहीं  मेरी  नाभि  पे  तुम 

कहीं  भी  और  निर्भीक  हो  मारना  मुझे तुम 

मेरी  नाभि  मेरी  माँ  से  जुडी  हुई 

मेरी  माँ  को  ना  कोई चोट आये 

मारो मेरे   रावण को कहीं भी चाहे 

बस माँ  को  कोई ना दुःख आये 

जनमा   था  एक  राम  उसने 

पर  कब  रावण  घुस  बैठा  मुझमे 

क्या  से  क्या  हो  गया हूँ  मैं

आज  करो  उसी   रावण  का  अंत  मुझमे 

मेरी  माँ  का  क्या  कुसूर  है 

जो  मेरे  भीतर  जाग  आया  रावण  है 

उसने  मुझे  उतना  ही  प्यार  दिया  है 

जितना  आपकी   माँ  ने  किया  है 

तो  उठाओ  बाण  हे  राम 

चलाओ  तीर  मेरे  राम 

ध्वस्त  करो  मेरे  रावण  को  राम 

मुक्त  करो  मुझे  हे  राम 

हे  राम, मेरे  राम!

SS

The Hourglass

Recently I got a nice WhatsApp forward where a man recites a beautiful poem. What he said resonated with me and, hence, wrote the poem down and also did a verbatim translation.

Ke umar sab guzar di, aur wakt hi mila nahin
Spent all my life, but never found the time

Kaha kisi ne aa milo, toh wakt hi nahi mila
When someone asked me come and meet, but never found the time

Kisi ka dard baant loon, toh wakt hi nahi mila
Wished I could share someone’s grief, but never found the time

Ji chaha kuchh likhun kabhi, toh wakt hi mila nahin
When in my heart I wanted me to write sometimes, but never found the time

Aaram karna chaha jo, toh wakt hi mila nahin
When I desired to rest and relax, but never found the time

Maa- baap ko mein wakt doon, toh wakt hi nahin mila
Wanted to give some time to my parents, but never found the time

Ye sehat gir rahi thi jab, mujhse kaha ki saare kaam chord doon, kisi doctor se wakt lo, toh wakt hi nahin mila
When my health was failing, they asked me to leave all work and take a doctor’s appointment, but never found the time

Kaamon ki ek kataar hai, jo zehan par sawaar hai, pichley jo sameyt loon, fehrist nayi tayyar hai
The list of things to do, always occupying the mind and by the time I get to finish some, a new to do list gets ready

Kaise sab khatam karoon, ke wakt hi nahi mila
How do I finish it all, for I never found the time

Kaise banegi baat phir, ke umar sab guzaar do aur wakt hi mila nahin
How will things work out since life passed by and I never found the time

Toh wakt ye kahan gaya, ke wakt hi nahin mila.
So where did the time go, that I never found the time.

I will not start telling you about why I never found time for any of the wishful things in the poem but shall tell you about some of the time-keepers of my time, wasted or otherwise. My earliest recollection is of a steel grey watch my father used to wear when I was just too young. It must have been a Swiss make watch for, possibly, we were not atmanirbhar then. On weekends, I would try and wear it but the steel strap was just too big and would end up above my elbow. Just seeing the arm with the watch on the dressing table glass was a proud moment for a young boy.

The earliest watch that I found myself wearing was HMT Sona in the late 1970s. My father had been presented with this beautiful golden watch in recognition of his long service with the oil company he worked for. By now my wrist had become of some size and, fortunately, the leather strap had multiple holes, one of which would fit me right. My father would let me wear it only on examination days but this masterpiece was used by the wearer to time his answers in a manner that ensured he would finish his writing at least thirty minutes before the scheduled time and was, without fail, the first to walk out of the dreaded room. The watch did not help the student much with his scores but he would wear the piece of art to show-off to the other students despite knowing fully well that many of his friends at school came from much more affluent homes and the wristwatches they wore were far more fanciful and expensive. HMT Sona remains, even to this day, a joyful memory and the trend that started early in life of being first out of the examination hall, remained a trait even in college and the competitive professional examinations later on in life.

The next time-keeper of great significance was my quartz Titan watch with day and date. It was the September of 1989 when my would be mother-in-law handed over money to the daughter to buy watches for ourselves for our upcoming wedding in November. We went to Urfees, the watch shop on Lindsay Street, in Calcutta. After trying out many a watch, D picked a nice one for herself and then started a selection for me. My eyes fell on a neat and simple looking steel grey model and I insisted on buying the same. When we reached back home, my MIL was upset that I had picked an inexpensive watch that cost just Rs. 650 and had not gone for a trendier and expensive one. I tried hard to convince her that I was not trying to save her money but that I genuinely liked the piece. This time-keeper was officially given to me as part of the marriage gifts the bride’s side offer in most Bengali weddings. I got to wear it for the first time a day after the wedding and during a walk in the evening with a close friend, I came home to find the watch missing from my wrist. It was late evening and with the help of torchlight, I was lucky to find the watch on the path to my house adjoining a crowded slum. I was now convinced, the watch had chosen its master and would never leave his side. Recently, on our thirty fourth anniversary, I pulled it out of the cupboard and found it working even till today without any servicing, thanks of course to D for ensuring that the batteries were replaced timely.

I wore my Titan watch for over twenty years and then when I moved out of my role as Business Head of Mumbai, my office colleagues presented a very expensive Swiss make watch, Xylus. It may sound funny but just two months earlier, I had presented a similar watch to a close friend who had helped us in some matter. I wanted to give him the best gift possible and now having got the same back on my own wrist, I can say with much conviction that when you give something with a good heart, it comes back to you and often in double measure. This was a heavy and classy watch but possibly I was found an unfit carrier for this time piece. After a couple of years of wearing and a couple of rounds of servicing, the manufacturers declared that the watch was unrepairable. The distributors offered me the option to buy any watch for the depreciated value of the dead Xylus. The world’s slimmest watch, Titan Edge, now found its way onto my wrist.

By now, daughter M was doing her internship, and she presented me a smart and sporty Espirit watch with a thick leather strap. This watch has never given me any trouble except the few rounds of strap changes that I had to do. Now my world revolved around the Shaadi ka Watch and Edge that I would wear to work on most days and Espirit was the special one that I wore on weekends and holidays. This was also special for M had paid her entire two months’ stipend to buy this watch for her Baba. This watch, even to this day, is and shall remain the Special One. The smart looking watch has also been an enigma to me. It has three dials inside the main frame and three knobs outside, none of which I have ever used or tried for find out what they are for. I just am happy seeing time tick away.

So now I had three watches to choose from…the old dependable Titan steel, the special occasion Edge and the weekender Espirit. Life was good and was rolling and pitching well till recently when a special gift came my way. One of the colleagues said that he and his wife are collectors of vintage watches and they picked it up from Kolkata just for me. They reached such a decision as the Favre Leuba watch came with a brand name, Sea Chief, which they linked to my long role as a Marine Insurance practitioner. This particular Swiss make watch dates back to 1962, a year before I was born. The white dial was limited to only 300 units and boasted the engineering marvel of a new and ground breaking movement ‘calibre 251’ also known as the notorious twin power that could work for fifty hours at a stretch. The watch has all original parts except the leather band that was recently changed. This is a hand winding watch and requires winding every day. How beautifully the cycle of life gets completed… from the hand-wound Baba’s Swiss watch and HMT Sona to the Swiss made Favre Leuba in 2024. It is fun to do the winding for a change now but wonder what will I do when I go for a vacation? My dilemma is now similar to D’s whose indoor plants need regular watering. Maybe, I shall either teach my gardener of old the right way to wind my vintage watch or will have to carry it with me always!

I sometimes think whether I should get a DNA check and find my roots which possibly will lead me to my ancestry in Switzerland. Just see how all the time Swiss watches land on my wrists out of nowhere. Just see the coincidence, my first visit overseas was also to Switzerland in 1999 and from there I had bought a gift for my mother, something she always dreamt of… a watch that she would wear on a chain on her neck, and the watch would lie inside a small locket on it.  And I found just that! It did cost me a fortune in those days with meagre forex in hand but her happiness at getting this gift made the buy worth every Swiss Franc spent.

The phrase ‘my time is running out’ has its origin in the sand filled hourglass. An hourglass or sandglass is a devise to measure the passage of time. It comprises of two glass symmetric bulbs connected vertically by a narrow neck that allows a regulated flow of sand from the upper bulb to the lower one by gravity. The hourglass, with the addition of metaphorical wings, is often, depicted as a symbol that human existence is fleeting and the sands of time will run out for all humans. So now I believe, on completion of my sixty, the hourglass is reversed and the sand now has started trickling into the bulb below. Now it my time is to live a good life and make the best of it. So then let me conclude by the lines of a beautiful song…

Har ghadi badal rahi hai roop zindag

Chaon hai kabhi, kabhi hai dhoop zindagi

Har pal yahan, ji bhar jiyo

Jo hai sama, kal ho na ho…

SS

Thank You Zindagi

When you are challenged with the prospect of facing ten farewell meets, you will, surely, be at a loss for words. No matter how hard you try and bring in freshness, there will always be a storyline which is common and you may add or subtract an anecdote or two from one speech to another. But in the course of mentally scripting the speeches, you are bound to come across some lines that convey the essence of what you wish to say as you shuffle through reams of paper.  Surprisingly the few key lines I wish to share are written by the same man……Harivansh Rai Bachchan.

मन का हो तो अच्छा, ना हो तो और भी अच्छा 

Amitabh said that this was one of the first things his father taught him, and he could never understand that. When he asked about it, his father replied, “If things are not happening according to your wish, they are happening according to the wishes of some divine force. And that divine force will never think ill about you. So, you have to respect that as being better.”

When I look back at my career graph, I cannot but admit that the quote embodies the story of my life to a great extent.  When in college and university, all I dreamt was football. My whole world revolved around this ninety-minute game and I dreamt of my destiny as playing in some good clubs in India which would also get me some sort of employment. My father knew the fate of football and footballers in our country and in one stroke shattered my dreams and asked me to look at an alternate which he himself proposed as trying for the Civil Services. Quite a jump you may say from IFS of Indian Football Service to Indian Foreign Service!

While preparing for the civil services exam, I gave a couple of other competitive exams and qualified for an officer’s role in a government insurance company. So now having got a job which was, in those days, no less paying than the civil services and then quickly finding a girl in the same company who soon became my wife, I stay put for the remaining part of my working life in the insurance industry despite two good attempts which took me to the interview stages of the premier service in the country. You might term it as a leap from Indian Administrative Service to Assistant Administrative Officer, with something still being in common.

In short, first came the sad demise of my football dreams and then getting stung by the snake twice while on the square of ninety-nine in civil services, the other choice meant that the divine force had something better in store for me. Today, as I look back at the thirty-six years in the insurance world, across geographies, organizations and roles played, I am convinced about what Senior Bachchan said, मन का ना हो तो और भी अच्छा !

Having joined the General Insurance company, I was sent for my training to Narendrapur, West Bengal for six months where, due to my frequent misdemeanours , I soon came to be known as the Principal’s Blue Eyed Boy. Every time there was an incident, I found myself being hauled up for being either the sole or co-conspirator. So while most other trainees got their final postings in their hometowns or in the near vicinity, I was given a punishment posting fifteen hundred kilometres away from Delhi in Kolkata under a boss whose reputation of being tough and taking sadistic pleasure in humiliating people in public was known to one and all. He was the Head of the Marine Department, a line of business on which I had not paid much attention to during the days of training.

Once again, I faced a situation where nothing was happening according to my wish. But then as a favourite child of the divine force, all that was happening to me turned adversity to my advantage. Firstly, being a Bengali, Kolkata was where all my relatives lived and I was well taken care of. Secondly, working in the Head Office of the company under the most difficult man made me take interest in the subject and soon Marine and I became inseparable and synonymous, if I may be permitted some self-indulgence. Finally, having seen how terrorizing, demoralizing and humiliating it was to work under a difficult boss, I promised myself that if I ever got a chance to be a leader, I would always take care of my people, treat them with love, compassion and kindness. Today, as I look back, I am happy and I do not regret having acted the way I did. While someone once accused me of being a grandfather to my teams whose grandchildren could never do any wrong, I can now say, with a lot of pride and conviction, that the love and respect you give to your juniors and other people you work with come back to you in double measure. How else can you explain someone getting ten farewells at the end of his career? All this is a testimony to the love the people who have worked with me directly or indirectly and the sweetest one, of course, was when the service staff who do the housekeeping and security came to give me flowers and a big box of chocolates with a card pasted atop the packet. How else can you explain the wife of a colleague penning a beautiful poem for you. How else to comprehend a teary eyed lady colleague breaking down thrice while trying to speak at a farewell... I am now even more convinced that, मन का ना हो तो और भी अच्छा !

The sweetest gift and more

जीवन है तो संघर्ष है

It seems during his trying days, Amitabh used to spend some time in his father’s company and during one of the conversations he said, 'बाबूजी, जीवन में बड़ा संघर्ष है। मुश्किलें एक के बाद एक आती ही जाती है। रुकने का नाम नहीं लेती।‘(There is too much struggle in life. Troubles keep pouring one after another and don’t seem to stop). Harivansh Rai calmly said, 'बेटा, जीवन है तो संघर्ष है, जब तक जीवन है तब तक संघर्ष है, और रहेगा। (Son, as long as there is life, there will be struggle and shall always remain).

Senior Bachchan was speaking for me and surely for many of my breed. For the entire working life, I worked with Passion. Woke up before sunrise and reached office almost an hour before anyone else. Worked Hard for long hours with my longest break being of five days when my daughter got married. And also worked with Discipline… in short worked with a PHD. But all this does not necessarily ensure success. Yes, the effort and intent were always good and sincere but many a times the set goals were missed. So if in conventional terms success in a career is to be measured by the number of promotions, I will be remembered as someone who also ran. However, if someone were to measure success in terms of goodwill, love, respect and the adulation that I got, I will say that my cup runneth over……I can sleep well at night that I never put a spoke in someone’s career growth; I can live happily with the wealth of all the love that people gave me over the years. Those are my annuities and fixed deposits for my retired life.

But I am under no illusion that in my new innings of life, I can take a breather and relax, I should remember, that as long as there is life, there will be struggle. जब तक जीवन है तब तक संघर्ष है, और रहेगा।

The way my team saw me :)

The third quote of Harivansh ji is something I have tried to follow but, in some instances, people had other plans. All my working life, I have avoided limelight and was happy to be in the sidelines working. "‘दुआएँ मिल जाये सब की, बस यही काफी है, ‘दवाएँ तो कीमत अदा करने पर मिल ही जाती हैं ,’ मशहूर होने का शौक़ नहीं मुझे ; आप मुझे पहचानते हैं बस इतना काफ़ी है”(I do not crave to be famous, getting the blessings and good wishes is what I want; as long as people can recognise me, that is enough for me). As I look back, one of my single most important achievement was publishing twenty-five volumes of a marine newsletter, Marcopolo, between 1995-1999 whilst at National Insurance, Delhi. I had an able lady to assist me in this venture and in the first twenty-one volumes we never printed our names anywhere. It was only in one of last issues that we were compelled to disclose our names at the insistence of a good boss who supported us in this project when there were no computers to help and we did our drafts first in pen, then had them typed and, finally, the printer got into the act. After almost 25 years, an old friend sends me the full spiral bound set of the Marcopolo from Chennai as a farewell gift. What more can I ask for!

The disclosure

I would, however, share two related instances where despite my avoidance of much publicity, my team members did go overboard. In 2017, when I bid adieu to Tata AIG, a group of enthusiastic colleagues got together and presented my wife and daughter with a personalized letter- cum-card with a SFC stamp. Needless to say who the S was for this fan club which, as they jokingly put it, had a followership a shade less than Rajni Sir, The Thalaivaa. Fast forward, 2024, a week after my retirement, a group of people organized an offsite meet where the grand finale was to shoot an episode of five cars moving in a convoy with my wife and me being driven in the middle car. As the cars stopped, someone opened the back seat door and I had to step out in style like Rajni. It was fun and touching even though bordering on embarrassment.

The Club of 2017

The Spirit of 2023

Thank you HRB Sir for the life lessons. If someone, by mistake, were to ask me for my secret sauce, I would say, just be a good human being and constantly listen to your voice of conscience and act accordingly.

SS

Shashtiabdhapoorthi

 Sharp at midnight the door bell rings…Who can it be now?

A young man walks in with a big packet which I realized must surely be a cake. This person has had a very long day at office. He had stayed up the night before in office to decorate my work station for it was my last working day in service. In the morning he had arrived very early to make sure the decorations were in place and the flowers looked fresh. From 10 am onwards started multiple rounds of farewells and cake cuttings and heaps of good wishes with gifts galore. After I left for home in the evening, this person sat down to complete the office work for it was month end and quarter end for business. Finally, before calling it a day he landed at my house to celebrate my birthday along with my family who too had arranged for a cake. So two cakes were cut and almost devoured.

Next morning, at 7 am, the darling daughter wakes up and comes straight to the table where I am having my morning tea with the newspaper in place. She is carrying her laptop and opens up the screen. Lo and behold what do I see… a ten-minute video of six decades and six facets of my life captured in pictures and songs so aptly woven into the storyline.

And then the floodgates of WhatsApp messages started coming from all quarters. One colourful friend texted…Welcome to Swinging Sixties…I quite liked this…not the usual HB2Y but somehow made me feel young and not a retiree. The other one from US of A said… Welcome to the sexagenarian club… I immediately replied to him…Not sexagenarian but a ‘sexy-genarian’ for now and many more years. I just do not wish to be called a senior citizen except when it comes to getting 0.5% extra interest in the banks…not even for cutting the queues at railway booking counters and post offices. I have worn enough of white and pastel shades of shirts at work for long and now I shall wear colourful things… to being with, how about wearing a red T-shirt?

Then came a message from an old time friend at Chennai, Rukmini. She sent her ‘asheervadhams’ in the form of a poem she wrote titled Shashtiabdhapoorthi, telling me, in simple words, what to do in the days ahead. Reading this, all my dilemmas disappeared and I found my rightful terminal at the busy and confusing airport of life. Before narrating the poem, let me share with some, like me, who did not know of this term as to what is Shashtiabdhapoorthi.

 Shashtiaabdhapoorthi in Sanskrit means: Shashti- sixty; Abda- Years; Poorthi- Completion. In short, it is a ceremony to celebrate the sixtieth birthday of a person. It marks the completion of half the years of one’s lifetime as in Hinduism, 120 years is considered the life span of a human being. The sixtieth year therefore assumes a significant milestone, a memorable turning point and a touching reminder of the rich, mellowed life that would unfold in years to come.

Shashtiabdhapoorthi

Shashtiabdhapoorthi it is
The stars align much as they did when you came into this world
An infant, a baby, a child, a boy, a youth, a man…
Sixty that is…is that 2/3rds?
Nah.. It's just one half
The second half is dedicated to spirituality, togetherness, understanding, compassion, companionship, camaraderie, nostalgia, humour, relief, seeking new parties, wanting to give back to the family, one’s partner, spend time with children, siblings, maybe grandchildren,
Have the joy of watching life go by and swim along with a gusto
Knowing, you can relax
It's not always Spitz
You can crawl, float and have the luxury of just dreaming
Gazing at the stars
Visiting friends from various phases
Childhood friends to share funny times,
Friends who have some secrets to laugh about
Friends who indulge in debate and simply some crabby friends…
Time to try the things your life has made you more capable of handling now than when you learnt it
Taking with wisdom and knowledge
And maintaining a circumspect silence sometimes
Penning your thoughts
Being astonished at all that you did
Being tickled by all the things you got away with
Wallowing in some self-satisfaction
Caressing some regrets
Floundering a while with changes
Then suddenly finding that one thing that makes you and others happy
Filling your days and thoughts with ideas
Talking to young daring children
Sometimes amused
Sometimes astonished
Sometimes respectful
And most of all happy
Make that list of things that didn't get done
Because you were busy doing things that had to be done…
Complete your list
In joy, fun cheer good health, togetherness.
After all you are just stepping into the second half of your life
Keep that child in you
Hold close those mischiefs
Relish being caught and being punished
Relive that joy of doing something new again!!
May your next years be as fun

Moving, joyful, happy and exciting as the first 60 were!I am sure my good friend Rux has a halo behind her head for who can pen such a beautiful charter of life for a friend… I read this a number of times and said to myself, this is how I shall strive to live my second innings of life. The fog is now clear and I must tread this path herein after.

If morning shows the day then January One, when people keep texting till their fingers start paining and all happy emojis and forwards have been forwarded multiple number of times, I began my tryst with destiny post-independence from the daily routine of office, phone, mails and travel for work. With my accomplice in life, bought a second class ticket for Mumbai local to go to VT…oops..CSMT! D had worked for eight years in an office situated in the Sterling Cinema Complex and took trains from both VT and Churchgate.In those days, it was always a rush to get to the station to board the train home or get off and reach her workplace. Never had she ever admired the beauty of this heritage building. So today she took time to see this magnificent structure built in 1880. At the main entrance to The Central Railway headquarters there sits on one pillar a lion representing the British and on the other pillar, is a tiger representing India. Every window is intricately carved with a different motif from flowers to peacocks, the gargoyles and other animals on pillars and walls make this structure one of the finest rail stations anywhere in the world. If you ever notice the roof of the central structure and the glass paintings on the side where the ticket bookings are done, you will see a wondrous sight no less beautiful than the inside of the cloister of the Westminster Abbey or the St.Paul’s Cathedral in London. She even got time to admire the heritage buildings of Brihan Mumbai Corporation and the office of the Old Lady of Bori Bundar, a newspaper that  has been landing at our house every morning at 6.30 am for years now.

Since I had already done a full tour of VT earlier, I went across to the Mumbai GPO to pick up stamps. This is a dilapidated structure which you may otherwise shudder to enter but when you get closer, you realise how majestic it would have been in its prime. Built in 1913, this is an example of Indo-Saracenic architecture and modelled on the famous Gol Gumbaz of Bijapur in Karnataka. It houses one of country’s five philatelic bureaus. I looked through the files containing the stamps for sale and picked up a few. But the one I dearly wanted was shown to be out of stock. I asked the person there saying, I am from Delhi and an alumni of Hindu College. My main purpose of coming was to get the centenary and 125^th anniversary of Delhi University and Hindu College respectively. He took pity on me and asked his senior in the room who pulled out the two stamps from a steel almirah kept under lock and key. My joy knew no bounds holding the two stamps. I even started a deposit account in the GPO and will now start getting all new stamps mailed to me periodically…. What fun… an old hobby revived and aflame!

Our final heritage walk was to Pancham Puriwala. Started in 1840, this small shop which has recently been renovated serves delightful puri bhaji and if you do not reach here before 12.30pm, you will have to wait anywhere between 30 minutes to an hour. We spoke to the sixth generation of owner sitting at the cash counter on what to eat and when our turn came, we ordered just as he had suggested, masala puri chholey and mixed puri alu bhaji and topped it with a glass of butter milk each. Each of the five puris in the plates had different stuffings served with piping hot alu and pumpkin sabzis and chholey, all equally tasty, which made this lunch truly special. And  guess what ,all this for just Rs. 275!

When compared to the old structures and institutions that were all over a hundred years old, I felt Young&Sexy@Sixty.

SS