red bindi and a house: our partition gifts

My aunt lives in the old pahagaggi, right behind the once famous Kana talk show in Delhi.
Her house is small, just like the Punjab refugees.
The house stands tight in the dusty yard behind it now --
Closed mega-walkie-talkie.
The houses on both sides were 50-
As high as the roof of the cinema hall, there are several feet of high walls.
There are no windows in the walls, forming the back of the house leading to the main pahagaggi market.
An unpaved lane no more than 6 feet wide is used as an entrance.
The compound is like a closed rectangular box.
But the cinema made the compound a lively place.
Once known for showing silent films and some popular films, such as mother of India and the sea of narnak Nham jhasha, today it was peeling off the paint standing on the crowded main outside of pahagaggi.
In those days, after each show, there was a noise from its back door.
This is done in order to let the fresh air in after the cinema emptied the full audience to the market.
Seven every night. m.
Criers will use a closed canvas poster
Above Nargis, a yoke on her shoulder is mounted on the wheel and placed in the compound for safekeeping.
From the life of the Ambala folk line bungalow, I found the atmosphere in the compound very charming.
Charming talesI will never know this strange thing
Looking for a place in the heart of Delhi, but the fact that our favorite cousins live there, my brother and I visited them during the holidays as children.
I still remember the address: 1430 Santra Hill, behind Paharganj Khanna talk ies, New Delhi.
A fascinating story revolves around the way my aunt\'s family occupied the house. The narrow-roomed, three-
Windows, Windows
Fewer houses were built as if three shoe boxes were placed on the top of another shoe box.
Like many others there, the house was left behind by Muslim families who fled India after partition.
The rest were uninhabited except for a house.
The House squeaked 5-ft-
High wooden door.
One must climb two steps from the compound to enter the house, and then come down from 6 inch to enter the living room.
My aunt\'s family includes her husband and two children, her husband\'s mother and his four brothers, and a 60-year-old. year-
Old Uncle named Chachaji
Chachaji is a bachelor.
When the big family came here from Pakistan, they were tired and hungry, homeless and hesitant to stand at the door.
See them, uh-
It means that the neighbors came up to warn them not to enter the house because there was a bomb inside.
This may be the reason why no one has taken the house yet.
Chachaji ignored them and entered the house. Panic-
\"Na karo Sardarji, uthe bumb HMRC. (
Don\'t get into Sardarji. there\'s a bomb inside. )
Chachaji turned his head slightly and retorted, \"Oh, major Nahin da Keith Benbo Shubo ,\"(
I\'m not afraid of any bombs)
Go in.
It was successfully formulaic to create a bomb that was rough to assemble and threw it into the yard.
It\'s a dead bomb.
\"Come on,\" he ordered his family out loud.
They all rushed in.
It was September 1947.
Living in an era of uneasiness and strangeness.
Divide roughly tore millions of people from the land where they were born, forcing them to leave and go to new habitats they had never seen before.
My aunt\'s family gave up their home, gave up the booming business in Pakistan, and managed to get away with it just carrying clothes.
When their \"new\" house suddenly gave them an unusual gift, they were worried about how to make a living.
In the room on the first floor, early residents may have produced cosmetics.
Several bottles of red nail polish and liquid Bindy used by women at the time were found scattered on the floor --
The fleeing Muslim family left behind.
They also left a diary with a recipe for all the cosmetics.
Most Punjabi people read Urdu in those days.
My aunt\'s family was tired of being busy looking for work around Delhi and decided to start the cosmetics business with this diary and its formula.
It took them a few years to build up, but the determination and luck helped them and they succeeded.
Then they left pahagaggi.
That was about fifty years ago.
Today, they live in luxurious bungalows and have several factories.
But they don\'t make cosmetics anymore.
The writer was born after division, but heard stories of misplacement and relocation from every member of her family.