Weekend at Gary’s Farm

It was the perfect season to visit a farm in Punjab. The pre-Baisakhi fields were golden with ripe wheat and the smell of fresh sugarcane juice wafted in the air. The large trees flanking NH1 added to this with their impossibly new glossy, baby leaves and spring blossoms.

chara and wheat fields

a pristine blue canal, one of the many that criss cross the fertile state

NH1, a picturesque ride

Our whole team of six was headed to Gary Farms, a plush 1600 acre farm in Nabha, Patiala, to check out what ‘farm tourism’ was all about.

Our first stop was of course a dhaba at Murthal, barely an hour’s drive from Delhi, for a breakfast which was a preview of what was to come in Punjab, paranthas with huge dollops of white butter and creamy curd.

parathas with huge dollops of white butter, our staple during this trip

It was a fairly smooth drive to Chandigarh where we met our host, Mr AS Grewal, a sprightly gentleman well on the other side of sixty. He suggested that we stop by his office in Gary Arts in Mohali before proceeding to the farm.

Gary Arts took us by surprise. With a Spiderman perched on the roof in take-off mode and a gorgeous village belle peeking out of a haveli window, all conjured out of fiberglass, the factory cum showroom transported us to toon world meets model Punjab village. As a result we became shutterbugs and posers. I needed a photograph with my childhood hero Bugs Bunny, the boss wanted to be clicked with Sardarji with mobile and Bodhi found a gun (was it real or fiberglass?) and got an entire portfolio shot by Nidhi.

village belle at the entrance to Gary's Arts with leaping Spiderman in the background

Mr Grewal informed us proudly that Gary Arts, known for its fiberglass reproductions of Punjabi village scenes, made the Sheras given as tokens to the athletes in the 2010 Commonwealth Games held in Delhi.

An hour’s drive from Mohali brought us to Nanoki, the village where Gary Farms is situated. After depositing our bags in the guestrooms in the family gurudwara where we were to spend the night we rushed off to catch our evening entertainment, ‘kushti at the village akhara’. As we drove through the fields at dusk we realized how quiet and clean the air around us was! At the akhara, while the regular spectators sat in charpoys we sat in plastic chairs facing the pit which we were told had been prepared by mixing the earth with turmeric powder(for its antiseptic qualities) and mustard oil (to soften the ground). The village pehelwans were already in their loincloths and after the customary lap around the pit and some thigh slapping they dived at each other, grappling in pairs matched in weight and strength.

'Kushti' at the village akhara

We gathered that the heaving struggle concluded only when one of the pair landed on his back and was unable to extricate himself from the opponent’s grip.

Elaborate photo sessions with the local heroes, some of whom have competed at the national and international level followed.

At night, we drove down to Nabha town to see a parandi factory and got ourselves rainbow hued naras!

coloured yarns being woven into vibrant naras and parandis

We drove to the local fort which looked massive and forbidding in the night and on our way stopped by the grand Punjab Public School located in the vast buildings and grounds of the court of the erstwhile princely state.

the Nanoki Gurdwara, our shelter for the night

Our day ended with a scrumptious dinner served by our hosts which included fresh paneer from their dairy and fish from their ponds. And yes we did locate some of those long forgotten constellations in the star filled sky (a rare treat for us city slickers!).

The next morning we went to see Col Grewal’s (Mr AS Grewal’s brother) fish farm set amidst three ponds which yield quintals of fish every month. We were, however, enthralled by the other animals in his menagerie, the handsome black kadaknaths (indigenous hens of Madhya Pradesh), the charming cow and calf, the ducks, the turkey and the horses.

prized Kadaknaths and the Turkey who thinks he is a chicken

Our team on Col RS Grewal's terrace

After yet another lavish meal of paranthas, curd, butter and fresh milk (counting calories is a city fad) at Mr Grewals’ we left the farm satiated, rejuvenated and all set for our next stop…Patiala.

 

Shahjahanabad ki galiyon mein

Interestingly, our early morning trip to ‘Purani Dilli’ began with a ride in the symbol of modern Delhi, the Delhi Metro. Nidhi and I sit adjacent to each other in office but found the cubicle-less proximity much inducive to deep conversation and missed our station. Grumbling about the shocking speed at which the train traversed through the belly of the city and after paying a princely fine of Rs 50 to the Metro authorities we emerged in the heart of Shahjahanabad, Chandni Chowk.

The rickshaw ride through the ancient bazaar, watching it stir into break of day activities at the leisurely pace befitting the 17th century havelis which line the streets, was enchanting. The aroma of freshly fried puris and milk sweet tea filled the air while the shutters went up revealing shops selling everything from bejewelled sarees to electrical goods. Ajmeri Gate, one of the five remaining gates of Shahjahanabad, stands forlornly at the intersection of several such streets that in a few hours time would see frentic commercial transactions. Our task of photographing the gate for our book Monuments of Delhi was challenging to say the least. The single arched gateway looked imposing but was surrounded by scaffoldings as it is being renovated by ASI. When we attempted a closer inspection we were greeted by a large mongoose family, its current residents, who seemed to take our intrusion well and posed indulgently for Nidhi. The gate’s semi-octagonal turrets on the two sides and embossed motifs still look magnificent though.

Ajmeri Gate

We proceeded to Delhi Gate, again by rickshaw. It stands on a traffic island, at the junction of Asaf Ali Road and Netaji Subhash Marg and owes it name to the fact that when Shahjahanabad was built, it faced the old cities to the south known as ‘Dilli’. Today, it is identified with Daryaganj, the hub of India’s publishing industry which lies to its north. Like Ajmeri Gate, it is a single high arch with flanking octagonal turrets. While we took photographs of the gate at high noon, with heavy traffic constantly whizzing past it, we were amazed at how it stood stoically, unattached to the wall of which it was once a part.

Delhi Gate

When Mughal emperor Shah Jahan laid the foundations of the city of Shahjahanabad in 1638 he enclosed it within walls, bits of which now remain in Daryaganj. We walked to the wall from Delhi Gate crossing the offices of several publishing houses. The almost 13 m high wall, with spear holes and battlements, now serves as a parking space for editors! Cars stand in a neat row ensconced in the arches in the inside wall.

the Wall

As we wound our way back to the relatively new and structured lanes of South Delhi we made urgent plans to revisit the area to shop and eat, finding it hard to shake the aura of the ancient city that has neither lost itself in the new nor resisted inevitable growth.