HindustanTimes Wed,17 Sep 2014

Regional Takes

Teetotaller's test

Thirty years ago, those were the golden days of college. The campus atmosphere was electrifying. Student elections were on. The campaigning was fierce and the competition tough. Every voter was a VIP. Writes Jagvir Goyal.

The father I strive to be

I must confess I had a superficial role in bringing up my children and, in the same breath, I am proud to have discharged my primary duty of being a provider as a pro-active, concerned, and responsible caretaker. Writes Col Avnish Sharma (retd).

Of faith, floods and stone pelting

It was just last year when a tragedy struck Uttarakhand. It appeared as if the mountains and rivers had conspired against believers as colossal flashes of water mixed with boulders swept away hundreds of thousands who had come seeking the blessings of their gods. Thousands of bodies still lie buried under the debris across the Kedarnath valley. Writes Narender S Thakur.

No one killed Jyoti

She was 23 years old. A Dalit from a village in Hoshiarpur district in Punjab’s Doaba region. Daughter of a small-time tailor. Dared to live in Chandigarh. And even had an illicit relationship with a powerful, married man for whom she worked. Writes Aarish Chhabra.

The perfect business plan

A recurring observation in the tricity is that setting up a business for their sons and daughters is a prime worry for the city’s retired officer-elite. A question often posed is: “Which business offers the most margins at the least effort? We have this-and-this property in …(and so on)." Writes Madhusheel Arora.

Of shooting stars and diehard fans

When a die-hard fan of the Hindi cinema from the city wrote the book A Fan Remembers as a tribute to actress Sadhana, it brought alive memories of the swinging 1960s. An era of hand-painted posters, shooting stars and hardcore fans of Indian cinema, the book is a walk down the memory lane of the golden era of Indian cinema. Writes Nirupama Dutt.

The tumbler trap

Fish poachers deploy many an ingenious method but this one was startling. On a ramble through the Shiwaliks, I came across a boy and a man placing steel tumblers in a gushing rivulet near Nanakpur village on the Pinjore-Baddi highway. Writes Vikram Jit Singh.

Calm or stormy, no friend like weather

Perhaps, nothing is more talked about, discussed, enjoyed, suffered, and tolerated across the world than weather. Be it January, June, August or December, there will always be people complaining and whining about it. Writes Promil Dada.

Khuda hafiz Daddy

Every year as the train rolled into the Howrah station I could not wait to look out of the window, to catch a glimpse of the tall imposing man who would be standing on the platform, looking joyously at the approaching Rajdhani Express. Writes Sona Sethi.

Hello, is anyone listening?

My father is a diligent professional. Even before the sun rises, his head is dug deep into a stack of smelly, dog-eared, mundane files. His chiseled fingers mechanically sign one file after another. Writes Chitvan Singh Dhillon.

Punjabi tadka in UK

Last week I was sitting in this lovely coffee bar in London’s Mayfair and reading a book titled Experience Punjab: On the road which had been compiled by travel writer, Puneetinder Kaur Sidhu. When I got transported from England to Punjab I have no idea, for the book took me on a lovely journey through the culture and people of my home state. Writes Khushwant Ahluwalia

When we watched the movies

"Cinema for me is not a slice of life but a piece of cake," said Alfred Hitchcock. The maxim describes my passion for movie-watching since teenage.
Braving hot and humid weather to queue up outside Neelam and Kiran cinema houses in Chandigarh for the first-show tickets is still fresh in memory, and so are the desperate attempts to buy the admission rights on the black market when the sign at the window read "house full'.Writes Anshu Seth

Modi’s speech and silence

Mr Principal seemed a noble man. He dressed nattily like a colonial lord, walked languidly like a film star, had windswept hair and a neat moustache, and was in love with his own voice. Writes Aarish Chhabra.

The body in the freezer

I’m writing this letter because any further communication between us may not be possible, not even through WhatsApp. There’s a problem: I fear that my dear wife plans to put my not-yet-dead body inside our fridge freezer. Writes Vikramdeep Johal.

Remembering 51 Mountain Regiment

The 51 Mountain Regiment was one of a couple of animal pack artillery units raised in 1961 when the seriousness of the threat posed by China across the Himalayas started figuring in military circles. Writes Mandeep Singh Bajwa.
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