2/17/2024 0 Comments New urdu hot stories![]() ![]() I remember once visiting the house of my friend, Sagar, for the purpose of flying kites on the terrace of his four-storeyed building. Whenever I had the chance to climb the rooftop of any house, my eyes would gawk at it. In my heart, I had always wanted to be close to it. For so long this object had struck me with awe and surprise. It was possible that this pursuit could be psychologically related to my interest in fooling around. In those days, I would neglect my studies, being more interested in sports and games. (In my childhood, I was scared of my father who would beat me to his heart’s content for the smallest of my faults). The thoughts of home eluded me, even the fear of my father. (It could not move away from there, or that is what I thought.) But in the meantime, I forgot what items I had come to purchase. In my heart of hearts, I was exhilarated. Thus, the fake ration cards far outweighed the original card holders (most of them made by the ration shop owners themselves for their personal benefits).įrom the street and the park, on the other end of the pavement, I could see it from close quarters. They knew how to earn money by selling ration items in the black market. This system proved to be a boon for men with a nose for business. If the government, with the introduction of the system of ration cards, had eased some lives by supplying items of daily use, it created unrest for the deprived and lesser-income groups which failed to understand the complicated ration-card system. The shop catered to the needs of the public, supplying the nearby areas with weekly rations. I do not know why I had come this way (possibly to fetch rations for daily use) for at one end was a ration shop. This straight street ran through one of the gaps. In between there was also a pavement that divided them into two, though intermittently leaving gaps of 10 to 15 feet that acted like subways to let the fast cars pass through and catch up with other lanes. ![]() (It was on these that cars whizzed past). ![]() Two streets ran parallel to each other from the south, intersecting each other till they reached the northern side. The street acted as its subway and merged with the park to form another starting point. The wider end of the park was in fact its last point. My target was to walk on this street and reach there, for according to my estimate, it was possible for me to arrive at it from this point. A narrow lane from the edge of the pavement led to a desolate masjid, its minaret visible from a far distance. Where the width of the park ended, the straight path again went on its way, and at the eastern end (that is, at the far end) it merged into the pavement which was the starting point of another mohalla. There was a main gate flanked by two smaller ones on both sides and joined together with iron railings. It was three-quarter furlongs long (from the south to the north) and half a furlong wide (from the west to the east). The park was considerably large and spacious. The stairs and the sitting spaces were cast in cement, the insides of which were moulded in iron. Amid the park was an island-like structure meant for rest and respite. It was probably done for the sake of creating a space for the public to walk. As far as the eye could see, the park was covered with green turf, the arrangements of lights within undertaken with care. The walls were strong, cemented, and the light green paint on the railings could still be seen. The park had beautiful iron railings on all sides, which, after every five or seven feet, were fastened to two-square-feet broad pillars built upon two-and-a-half or three-feet-tall and quarter-feet-broad walls. On the eastern side of this straight path, a triangular shape was formed in such a way that in between the park and the pathway, or opposite to it, another road – as far as the eye could see – ran from the north to the south. I knew that walking straight up the pathway, and on the other side of the park, I would be so close that with a little sprint I could catch up with it. Then one day, when I was walking on the street of my mohalla – which goes straight from the west to the east, and ends up near a pathway close to the park used by the locals for strolling and pleasure in the evening – my yearning reached its peak. I would gaze at it for a long time amidst the void of the universe, my curious and searching eyes steadfastly trying to explore its mystifying existence. For me, in those days, its presence was baffling and confusing. In my childhood, I used to stare at it for hours with bewildered eyes and surprised looks.
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