Maaru Amdavad

As I was idle at work, I did a random wiki search. I was reading about the nobel prize when the wiki page on Tagore threw up an image of the Sardar Patel National Museum in Ahmedabad. My mind immediately wandered off to Ahmedabad and its touristic attractions.

One of the first memories is that of Gandhi Ashram. The place was next doors to our first house in Ahmedabad. As one enters the Ashram, one is greeted by a red wall contrasted by a row of lush green ashoka trees. A sign-board informs the visitors that one of these was planted by Pandit Nehru himself when the Ashram was inaugurated.

As you move inside, the chirping of birds and the uncanny silence in the air takes over. You are in a different land. The galleries that connect the small thatched square red-and-white-walled cottages that house the museum are lined with huge cut-outs and writings of Gandhiji. His almost illegible handwriting is a treat to the eyes!

There is a painting gallery with huge life-size portraits of Gandhiji. I distinctly remember a portrait of Gandhiji made using groundnut shells. These have amazed me everytime I have visited the Ashram.

“Hriday Kunj” is the cottage where Gandhiji and Karturba satayed while the Ashram was functional. The cottage has been maintained in its original form. One may be astounded to find different rooms for Kasturba and Gandhiji in this cottage. There is a small room in the courtyard of the cottage where you can just peep in from the grilled door. It has a neat arrangement of Gandhiji’s desk with a book and his glasses placed over and the famous watch lying by the side on the small sitting couch.

Not far from the Gandhi Ashram is the Calico Textile Museum. A museum preserved by the Lalbhai Group of Ahmedabad. The Museum, housed in an ancient haveli, is a treat to your eyes. The old fabrics weave a charm and you just can’t help getting mesmerized. Each woven thread has a tale to tell. Meandering through the dark staircases lit by the natural light filtering through the jharokhas, one is transcended to the world of the royals. It is not just the museum but the entire place that creates an out-of-this-world charm. The little pond in the courtyard with water lilies and the jain pichwai paintings to the remains of a haveli salvaged from a kabadi create magic.

A little ahead is the Sardar Patel National Museum. It is an umimpressive museum housed in a majestic palace. What catches the eye is a statue of Mahatma Gandhi and Sardar Patel – arm-in-arms – right outside the complex. I think this is the only one of its kind statue of Patel and Gandhiji together.

A little further from Shahibuagh - towards Dilli Darwaza - is located the famous Hutheesingh Jain Temple. The majestic tall tower and the symmetric arches along the corridors adorned in the jain style architecture are a must visit. Photography, unfortunately, is prohibited.

From Dilli Darwaza, one must make headway to the Saiyyed Siddi ni Jali at Lal Darwaza. The jail is a huge window in a mosque with intricate carving depicting a tree. This is also the unofficial symbol of Ahmedbad.

Right opposite Siddi Saiyyed's mosque is an old haveli, which now operates as a restaurant – Agashiye – famous for its authentic Gujarati cuisine.

Other places of interest in Ahmedabad could be the Kite Museum, Kochrab Ashram, Kankariya lake, Baal Vatika, Ahmedabad Zoo and Vishala Utensil Museum. A little drive away are the famous Adalaj ni Vav and Akshardham Mandir.

Oh! My mind is cluttered with memories of the colourful land…. Wish I could turn time back... How I wish!!

34-Sona Mahal.....Will miss you

My association with Ahmedabad goes back to 1992 when we my dad got posted here. The very first memories are that of a transporter strike because of which our stuff couldn't come on time and I had to make do with samosas and jalebis in the tiffin, which I have anyway hated all my school life.
We stayed in a rented accomodation for a couple of years. I have very vivid and happy memories of that place. My sister would sit at the window and gaze at the vehicles passing by on the Subhash Bridge. When it rained heavily, the Sabarmati would swell and we would go to the bridge to see the waters. Come Navaratri, the whole society (yes, that's how we called it) would get decked up and people would dance all night long to the tunes of pankhida re udi ne jaje... I even taught my sister how to ride a bicycle in this society. There was a vegetable grocer within the premisis where I would often go with a list of vegetables that mom wanted. Also, there was a shop where you could buy that orange candy bar. In the evening all the kids would gather near the tall overhead tank and play till the sun set and their mothers came out calling them.

In 1994, we moved to our own apartment, our home. It must have been such a fulfilling moment for my parents. And never till today did I realise that I have spent some 15 long years in that house. I grew up in that house and the house grew with me. Over the years, we had adorned the walls with hand-picked paintings and the corners with the finest and the most unique artefacts. What memories I have associated with this house is something that I cannot describe in words. But why am I writitng this post is because today I suddenly felt that the string, which had kept me attached to MY HOME, has snapped.... My heart is overwhelmed by such strong feelings. When my parents told me that the packers were packing up stuff in cartons, my mind wandered off to those artefacts, those books, those paintings, those clothes, that crockery which had been there since ages, at least to me it did! I know its never going to be the same again. I know that Ahmedabad is lost for me....I know Sona Mahal is no more my home.... It might be a permanent address but not a home... I would now be a mere visitor to my own city, to my hometown.... There is so much that I have held close to my heart... There is so much to remember so much that am going to miss all my life.


I will miss writing "34-Sona Mahal....." as my postal address.
I will miss the name plate that bore my father's name.
I will miss the iron grill with a unique pattern, specially designed by my parents.
I will miss the arched doorway that let into my home.
I will miss my room with arched balcony.
I will miss the creaking noice that my almirah made.
I will miss that cozy corner in the living room under the lanp.
I will miss the sofa that I had bought.
I will never be able to see the sun set behind the temple.
I will miss the panoramic view from my balcony.
I will miss hushing away those pigeons in the morning.
I will miss reading the newspaper sitting on the bed while the first rays of sun filled the room with warmth.
I will miss the wardrobe that still smelled of fresh paint.
I will miss getting ready under the dressing table's spot-light.
I will miss seeing the Sabarmati flow by through the window.
I will miss pinnig-up a picture on the study table.
I will miss walking bare-footed into my neighbour's house to borrow a lemon.
I will miss driving to Yogesh Khamman to get my mom's fovourite dhokla.
I will miss kite-flying during Uttarayan on the terrace.
I will miss going to the law garden to do some local shopping.
I will miss the cool evening breeze.
I will miss the bright and scorching sun on a summer afternoon.

I will miss the walls, the flooring, the paint, the smell, the touch, the sounds, the sights...........