LAHORI GATE TO SUTTAR MANDI TO KUCHA BULO MAL –OUR HOUSE- IN OLD CITY OF LAHORE

LAHORI GATE TO SUTTAR MANDI TO KUCHA BULO MAL –OUR HOUSE- in old city of LAHORE

My Guide had done his reiki the previous days hence knew his way to our place. His brisk walking and keenness to reach the known destination made me miss few landmarks as explained by Uncle Mahender in his directions. His written note said “Go inside the Lahori Gate; continue until you reach a fork. Stay on the left side (do not go straight) for Suttar Mandi Chowk. There used to be sweet shop on the left side, Bauji used to purchase sweets every night while coming back from his shop around 9 p.m. By the way, the shop used to make my favorite Chaana Murki. After the partition, he opened the shop in Jalandhar to my great enjoyment and satisfaction. When you reach Suttar Mandi Chowk, you will notice that there are at least 4 streets radiating out of the Chowk. Continue onto the street on the right hand side to Vaccho Wali”.

I learnt from my Guide that Walled City(Androon Shehar) of Lahore had 13 gates: Akbari Gate, Bhati Gate, Delhi Gate, Kashmiri Gate, Lahori Gate, Masti Gate, Mochi Gate, Mori Gate, Roshnai Gate, Shahalmi Gate, Shairanwala Gate, Taxali Gate, and Yakki Gate. All of these gates survived until the 19th century. In an effort to defortify the city, the British demolished almost all of the gates except Roshnai Gate. Some were rebuilt in simple structures, except for Delhi Gate and Lahori Gate. The "Shahalmi Gate" was named after the son of the Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb, Shah Alam I. Before his death, the gate was called the "Bherwala Gate." During the 1947 independence riots, the gate was burnt and today only the name survives. One of Lahore's biggest commercial markets, "Shah Alam Market," exists near the site of the gate, selling iron and related material.

Today, out of 13, only Bhati Gate, Delhi Gate, Kashmiri Gate, Lahori Gate, Roshnai Gate and Shairanwala Gate survive. Most of them were in urgent need of repair and restoration.

The "Lohari Gate” and not “Lahori Gate” as we know,is very close to "Bhati Gate." Like many other gates, it was built to keep enemies out. Although it is now surrounded by shops and stalls, it still has great architectural significance. In Pakistan after partition due to Urdu’s dominance they exchanged the placement of vowels. Moreover, loha means "iron," and the gate thus named Lohari because many lohars (blacksmiths) workshops were based just outside this gate.

At Lahori gate on the left hand side we saw shops selling fruits and on the right hand side florists sell variety of flowers -predominantly “Genda” Marigold flowers- and garlands made out of them. They cater to the needs of people calling on a “Muslim Masjid” (Mosque) besides Lahori Gate. As you move towards the gate, carts and hawkers are strategically placed, so that you cannot miss a collision course with them and pause a while to have peep into stuffs lying. Most glaring and out of place thing seen by me was mouse traps and rat poisons/cockroach killers of all kinds. An indication for me, a warning bell, of the decay and neglect expected ahead.Inside the arch of this gate , small rooms-originally meant for sentries(guards) were used as shops selling household wares and utility tools. Interestingly sugarcane cubes (Gunderi) were also prepared and sold over the counter.

The convoluted and unpainted walls around streets of the inner city remain almost intact, the “Lahori” bricks stead fasted, stuck to their place, even the rapid demolition and frequently illegal rebuilding taking place throughout the city could not affect them. Instead newer and inferior construction attracts attention as a cause for erosion of the historic fabric. The old houses in the city are usually two or three stories tall, with brick façades, flat roofs, richly carved wooden balconies and overhanging windows, all untended yet as stubborn and obstinate as Religious Fanatics.

Lahore's old city, with its narrow lanes, roadside stalls and decadent squalor vaguely resembles Old Delhi. In the old city, one catches a glimpse of the kind of poverty that is ubiquitous in the Muslim settlements(बस्ती) in India's big cities. Here you would see narrow streets, dark alleys, old houses, poor people, lots of carts, busy people, starving children. They somehow retained the stone paved roads of olden days thereby managing to keep history intact. Yet every now and then young guys are seen riding Honda/Yamaha motorcycles. Unlike India where the lower end motorcycle is powered by 125 cc engines, here in Lahore one see 70 to 75cc bikes loaded with heavyweight figures of Pakistanis with overflowing “Kurta” and “Salwar” make an interesting sight. In a way, the speed need not be checked as the under capacity drive works an ideal deterrent for speed. Uncle Madan Lal's word often crept in my mind, Bhapaji(Chander shekhar Mohlajee) would lift me on his shoulders and walk the streets of lahore. Now I was treading on the same stones that must have been pounded by my father and ancestors day in day out. Feelings that can hardly be described best said "a feeling of Deja vu'".

As per the list I should have encountered Favorite sweet shop-“Chaina Moorki” or “Chana Murgi”-instead I found that to be a Meat shop with overhanging Beef meat, denuded, blood exuding and dripping , a sight often disliked and detested by Hindu’s of pre partition days.

Finally we reached Suttar Mandi Chowk as my guide pointed to the place. Hardly a “chowk”-cross road- by definition it almost looked like 4 way coinciding alleys, trying to run each other over. The physical conditions in the walled city itself are in a serious state of decay. Electrical wiring is old and dangerous, loosely hung at times “Phanda”(loop) on the main line- a source of free power at the expense of electricity boards and the exchequer-could be seen everywhere. Water supply and street drainage lie at the root of most of the environmental and structural problems of the walled cities of this subcontinent. The water distribution network is very old and the pipes that are carrying water are all arranged through private connections. The result is lack of pressure. The existing sewerage consists of a system of open drains into which all the refuse are discharged. Heaps of garbage can be seen in every street and road of the walled city, creating both traffic and environmental problems.

The space left by emigrants from the old city then got filled by commercial interests, mostly small scale manufacturers and wholesalers. The advantages for commercial interests were the readily available cheap labour, as well as relative anonymity, which facilitated the evasion of most national and local taxation. This led to more commercial development mainly because of the absence of enforcement of building regulations and cheap plots. An analogy can be easily drawn with Indian old cities that have dominant muslim population and similar socio-economic fabric.

Natural gas pipeline works undertaken by the Government with the help of program called SUSTAINABLE DEVELOPMENT OF WALLED CITY (SDWCL) was the only difference I could see between Jumma Masjid/ Ajmeri Gate of areas old New Delhi and Lahore Shehar.

I was told that population in walled city averages about 1100 persons per hectare, compared to about 160 persons per hectare in the rest of the metropolitan area. The building stock in the walled city has not increased in over a hundred years. Plot sizes are extremely small with average size of 40 square meters. The average household size is nearly seven persons and one third of the population lives in single room units.

Anyway, these talks made me exhausted and thankfully my guide stopped dead in front of our Lane” Kucha Bulo Mal”. Uncle Mahender’s word kept ringing in my ears “Continuing on, the 3rd gali on the right hand side is Kucha Bullo Mal. There are 2 Kucha Bullo Mals. If you face the gali with probably 2 steps and irongate, on your back will be a Haveli with a store underneath on side. That was our Kucha Bullo Mal”. My happiness was unbounded to see the Iron Gate (remnant hinges clinging to the side pillars) and leading 3-4 steps up to the lane. Exactly the way described. To check further I looked backward and found a big “haveli” (Mansion) that had a tailoring shop next to its entrance. To satisfy me, our Guide asked the Tailor, Is it Kucha Bulo Mal? Alike all Lahoris he gave a smile and enquired about us. My guide told him that this guest is from India coming here in search of his roots especially to see his ancestral properties. Next Question “ Are you Hindu or Muslim?”. No I am Punjabi Lahori Brahman and Hindu. He immediately rose with one leg holding onto his clutch and tried to pull me inside his shop. To avoid embarrassment I volunteered myself to enter and sit on an old chair. “Bauji(Sir) Tussi ithe rehnde si” (You lived here?). “No No! Mere Dadaji rehnde see naal mere Bauji vi”(My grandparents and my father lived here) I said. He exchanged few pleasantries in the name of Allah and praised the lord for all he giveth and then smiled at me reassuringly. “Fikar na karo twanoon Ghar dikhawan ga pehlan cha sha ho jai”. No worries I shall lead you to the house first have a cup of tea. He raised his voice looking nowhere to say “Oye! Mundya ja mehmana laiye kuch ley ke aa” (Oh Boy! Go and fetch something for our guests). There came “Pink Tea” leaving me with no choice but to drink. After the formalities and exchange of information with pleasantries about my ancestors, he rose and led us towards the house as Uncle’s directions popped every now and then “Continue inside the “gali”(lane). On the left hand side is a covered well. Our house was the second house past the well. The entry door was a double door, probably 4’-6” to 5’-00 wide. It was set 2 or more steps above the” gali” level”.

Forget the well(not to be seen) this person stood right in front of the house described so vividly by Uncle that came alive in front of my eyes. The left side of the entrance had a Ayala (Niche) as usual in earlier days for lighting of “diya”(lamp) in the evenings.

“If you do go inside, as you reach the ground floor (which is up 4+ steps), the room on the right side is the one Papaji used to sleep in during the winters. During day time, it was used by ladies as a drawing room”. Yes! The room was very much there. I shall describe it later.

Tayaji’s( Shiv Narain Mohlajee V-2)Floor and Shiv kumar Mohlajee’s study.

He further directed “If you do venture upstairs, at the first mid level there was a small room which was by Shiv bhai’s study room”. Well it was exactly as he described except that Saddi Uncle’s/Shiv Bhai ( Shiv Kumar Mohlajee) study became kitchen for the present incumbent where a big size chapatti was being roasted on LPG gas stove. His room was actually a recess-a balcony covered. Perhaps this very room fermented in him a famous photographer as sight from the window outside must have given him many a views and fertile imagination.

Mahender Uncle’s words kept coming back “The first floor was the living space for Bade Tayaji (Shiv narain Mohlajee) and family, with its own kitchen, pujasthan in a recessed built-in almirah, drawing/ eating/ winter sleeping areas.”

The present incumbent had kept the house in a good shape with wall papers plastered all over and presented a typical lower middle income group show with color TV in the drawing room, colorful PAK ceiling fans- let me tell you they are as sturdy as any Russian equipment but power guzzlers, highly uneconomical and drain on electrical resource. An opening in the ceiling was covered by a camouflaged sheet. This must be "Magh" dumbwaiter of those days, a means of commuting and transferring things from ground floor to the floors up. Two big shelves besides fireplace were covered differently, one with curtain and the other with wooden doors. The fire place was more like a dummy, and used as a mantle with record player on top. A window, opening to the other side, overlooking a Shiv Mandir behind (Maybe that was Mohalla Mohlian) could be seen. The hall looked big as the intermediate wall was removed to give it an open look.

The dining room had a refrigerator, microwave oven, toaster, washing machine and even sewing machine neatly placed with wash basin in the corner. A niche (made later) was evident above this dining area and I was invited to go up the ladder for a peep. The person with moustache in the video is the tailor who led us to the house.

I think this was a place where BadeTayaji and family would sit over a “dari”-rug on the floor and have food served on a thali laid over wooden stool. This reminds of a very fascinating and amusing sight of my great grandmother ( Karam devi V-1) having her food. I must have been less than 5 years in age, watching this military drill; elaborate and precise; during my frequent visits to Gandparents home at Motinagar New Delhi. The floor would be sprinkled with water (if she had her ways with Holy Ganges water) and wiped clean. Two wooden stools were laid for her one with large thali (plate) and other covered with rug for her to sit. She would then come down from her bed, a frail lady would be transformed into a ferocious fighter who would utter no words and express only in symbols (I was told it is customary not to speak while eating food). She would first wash her hands-check me someone if I am wrong- and sprinkle the water around the thali, recite some prayers. She would then take one bite and leave it aside or give to someone- I am not very sure- to start her food intake. The call for a chapatti or dish or water would be invariably through sign language well known to my grandmother who in fact would anticipate her needs. Once in a while she would err to have a violent reprimand in signage from the Grand lady. As the “Parpota” (great grandson) and naughty one, it used to be my endeavor to make her speak or utter some words. Initially it was relished by some, and then persistent nagging on my part became a nuisance of sorts, which was best avoided by drawing me away on some pretext or the other. On occasions I would imitate her style but failed to match her discipline of “no talk”, personal hygiene and utterance of hymns. All these thoughts came in a flourish and vanished as they came. Amazing! How memories have a way of playing hide and seek with you.

In Search of Chander Shekhar & Bros. Family book store on Mohan Lal Rd.(Urdu Bazar now) Lahore

The devastation of Sheetla Mata Ka Mandir left me indented with the unending and outdated politics of these two nations one Father and other the son. These meaningless attacks on religious places inflicting wounds that heal but leave indelible scars and marks on the psyche of progenies, who otherwise have pure embryonic mind that attains life untainted, unaffected and unscarred of any impressions. Since the day of my landing at Lahore Airport I have been showered with love and affection never seen or felt in my own nation from my own people or relations. Yet this sight of disappointment left me expressionless, quite lost and hollow within.

Once inside the quiet of Toyota (very favored car in Pakistan) I drew a piece of paper having notes and directions given by Mahender (Mohlajee) uncle to set out for a new destination.

“As you come out of the Mandir to proceed towards Lahori Gate, on your left is Police Station (Thana) Lahori Gate” he wrote. There it was before I could finish reading. Hurriedly, I took the picture of Police Station that looked as forlorn and dumb as a man who stood witness to the meaningless carnage and Hindu slaughter during 1947 August. It failed to make an impression as the walls appeared unpainted and worn-out caused by the pollution and dust of this crazy traffic. I should have gone inside to have a peak into its character and find out how many an innocent Hindu’s were betrayed by the Gora Sahib and Muslim dominated Police force of Lahore.

Never mind, perhaps my heart and feelings were partial to my hosts as their love and affection enveloped all my gloom. Now"gopast it and enter Mohan Lal Road,whichI think branches off on the left side from Circular Road. Mohan Lal Road is famous for book stores, publishers and printing presses.” Very detailed and graphic directions made my host comment on the writers’ memory and ability to recall finer points. He was further left speechless when told that my Uncle was just 11 or 12 years then.

I waded my way with a purpose and vigor of a young boy following his father to buy books for his new school. Apparently I was walking briskly, at the same time absorbing the surroundings and its activities through the corner of my eyes. There were all sorts of people, some carrying huge wicker baskets on their head balancing and carrying loads of books, some carrying note books and some carrying waste papers. It was very difficult, if not impossible, for any vehicle to drive through this maddening crowd, analogous of the scenes witnessed at Chandni Chowk or Ajmeri Gate or Khari Baoli of Old Delhi. I noticed a “Bharbunjan” selling “singara’s” (water-nut) at the road side. An all time favorite nut fruit sold from Lahore to the plains of Punjab, Delhi and Kolkata, a stark reminder of similarities in nature of forcibly divided nations. This “Bharbhunjan” woman reminded me of “Shaani” of Delhi who used to sit in a lane connecting Mata Sundari Place to Bengali Market and we children would watch her fascinatingly parching maize, wheat or lentils on a large iron Karahi(open hearth made of steel) that had sand filled. The maize in particular, used to puff and envelop the entire vessel and at times pop out to our amusement. The chana (Lentils) would be colored slight green and leave an all pervasive, invigorating and tasteful smell that still lingers in my memory. In winters she would be seen baking Tandoori Rotis( Flour dough baked pancakes), as we carried kneaded dough or plain flour for her from our homes.

Some street vendors were selling pens, envelopes, lighters (an odd man out), key chains, stickers, maps and all sorts of accessories needed by students of all classes.

On our way to Bauji’s Old Shop (Book Store) and Daddy’s Chander Shekhar & Brothers, informed my guide that Mohan Lal Road is now called Urdu Bazar. Earlier it was called Mohan Lal Road (Book Street of the East) that once boasted of famous shops like Doaba Press, Malhotra Brothers, Punjab Kitab Ghar, We manage to spot a temple that had smudged inscriptions in Sanskrit which managed to convey that it was a Hindu temple and not a Jain Mandir as stated by Uncle. Later Prem Uncle agreed that it was a Hindu temple managed by Great Grandfather and frequented by children during day time for studies. Bauji’s double door shop was first owned by Great Grandfather whose picture is shown in the blog (Shri Har Narain Mohla). Intial search led us nowhere as nobody agreed for a Jain Mandir in that area. We moved to parallel lane which was similar to Mohan Lal road in character as it housed book stores and stationery shops all over.There we were introduced to an old man of around 85 years in age who remembered olden days a fair bit. He recalled a twin shop underneath a Hindu temple (hinduan da mandar honda si) owned by Brahmans. He also remembered that one portion of the shop is closed ever since partition days. He recalled Doaba press but could not recall Chander Shekhar & Bros. location very succinctly. This gave us a new impetus.

Before I proceed further I must appreciate one Lahori practice of first seeking a persons name and origin and upon knowing that one is original Lahori, their happiness is unbounded and beyond my scope of defining. The amount of love, warmth and affection that outpours from within-as if compressed by a spring- overwhelms all your emotions and make you forget the very purpose of your existence in that place. It is nigh impossible to leave without having Piping hot “Pink tea” of Lahore-a “khalis”(pure) buffalo milk mixed tea, with flavours, pistacchios and almonds, unmistakably Pink in colour, sometimes also refered a “Kashmiri Chah” or “Green tea”. I was told that during chilly winters “karak”(strong) tea overtakes pink tea as it is boiling hot and thick, to be taken without blowing air to cool at rims of “kullar” (earthen ware glass)-usual practice adopted to lessen the impact of hot drink.

Anyway, we restarted from original place where temple was and pinpointed on a twin shop that had one shop open other closed-since partition days- and a small door leading upstairs. We went and spoke to the owner of shop who agreed to the fact that, these shops belonged to Hindu Brahmans before partition. Strengthened in belief that I am at the right place, imagined Bauji and Daddy sitting exactly how present Father and son duo were seated, going about their business. It was a great feeling, I mentally placed all the “kaidas”( grammar) books of Chander Shekhar & Bros. on the shelves of this shop- that Bauji managed to store for many decades in Motinagar house and later few samples were left at our place in Munirka. Regretfully, all of them have been lost for various reasons. As a naughty child (baal of chachiji) I relished touching those books especially when Bauji was around to watch his reaction from the corner of my eyes that would seemingly say “ here goes ancestral property at the hands of useless grandson” As always he held himself in check fearing Chachiji’s retort “Baal Hai”.

Next Search: New Shop CHANDER SHEKHAR & BROS.

“Go past the Mandir,” wrote Uncle Mahender in his directions to important landmarks of Lahore “a street will branch off on the LHS; this was a short cut to Anarkali. Continue on Mohan Lal Road, on the LHS there was book bindery, Parpunja’s and entry door to a house. Past the entry door 1^st or 2^nd shop was the “Chander Shekhar & Bros.” book shop. A book store was next door followed by a door to a house. Then, 2 book shops of Doaba Brothers. Across was Lala Jagat Narain’s printing press. He was an important congress leader of Lahore. After partition, he settled in Ludhiana and started Hind Samachar group. He was a minister of Education. At Papaji-Bhabiji(Chander Shekhar & Sheela) wedding, he sent a letter of congratulation and best wishes. The letter might be in Papaji(Chander Shekhar) or Bauji’s( Grandfather Mohan Lal) papers.”

We did exactly the same and located Parpunja’s shop (you will see in the video with a street leading to Anarkali bazaar) but to our great dismay original shop of Chander Shekhar & Bros. was demolished and a new building stood as stark contrast to all olden structures, thereby robbing me of a great chance to experience, enjoy and imitate my father’s business of pre-partition days.

Thus, my hot pursuit of an important landmark i grew up hearing all my childhood, came to an end. It was a damp squib(anti) climax of a movie that promised a lot but failed to deliver at the Box-office.

Sheetla Mata Mandir visit- Lahore

MY VISIT TO SHEETLA MANDIR, LAHORE

Lahore! Lahore! Saadha Lahore!(Our Lahore) Pichhe reh gaya Lahore!(Lahore that is left behind) Lahoria.ay!(Citizens of Lahore) Lahore dian Galiyan!(LANES OF LAHORE).These words kept ringing in my ears, interjected my visual survey of the environment, at times blinding my vision, and shattering my concentration. All the buildings and traffic a visual muddle left behind by car journey, amongst a potpourri of my thoughts, until Nadeem, my guide, suddenly stopped the car amongst various tonga walas, rickshaw pullers, parked motorcycles, street vendors on trolleys and squatters on the dusty pavements.

He jumped out of the car asking me to follow. Hurriedly, with camera in one hand I jostled amongst the crowd oblivious of cacophony made by bustling traffic, and halted in front of a place pronounced as Sheetla Mata ka Mandir. It is on the left side of circular road on the way to Lahori Gate from Shah Alami Gate of Lahore.

This was my first step of eagerly awaited journey to seek my roots and see places where my ancestors lived, worked, worshipped, shopped, and strolled before the cruel fate of partition, did them apart from what they loved most.

I had to train my eyes so as to locate the familiar façade of a temple and found a dilapidated structure once Famous Temple that withstood the test of times and stayed with the great city of LAV-Lahore. Even the ravaging armies of Alexander who looted and plundered it many times over, could not decimate its soul and character.

Excitedly I said first take my pictures before this vanishing façade-as if it will erode any moment into oblivion. Janaab! Mandir nu Dha ta Twade Babri Masjid de jhagde wele.(The Mandir was demolished after Babri Masjid episode of Yours(India). Said a person in Lahori Punjabi, sitting as Dwarpals(Door keepers) at the entrance of the Mandir and selling cigarettes, cool drinks and popcorns for their maintenance and livelihood. We made further inroad to the temple through an old brick lined arch that had been lowered due to raised floor level. We had to bend to cross this arch-alike we waive our way through natural cave of Mata Vaishno Devi. It appeared that Sheetla Mata found her way of teaching these inmates a lesson for ravaging her abode. They surely have to bend over many times a day, a punishment for their barbaric act.

What I saw then was another shocker. In this small cave like entrance a box (shoe box) making unit was operational. It was a mass of cardboards and small children working. There was too little a space for the people living inside, yet they guarded their own as all Mohajirs or immigrants from neighboring towns and villages of Lahore have done to possess the properties of Hindus. Too many families lived (my wild guess 100 families), not so much in squalor but within confines of a single room, niche under the staircase; on the balconies or recesses (thada). Everywhere multitude of humanity and litter, bhangaar (scrap) broken furniture, charpoys (wooden cots with jute nettings) greeted me till I reach a place once inner sanctum of the temple. My God! Where are the idols? The inner sanctum now flushed with materials- a store room perhaps- screaming for fresh air. Where is the tower (burj/shikhar) a must in all Hindu temples of Punjab? Search! Search! My camera feverishly weaving around the eroded structures looking for famous hindu structures, carved pillars, zooming in zooming out, but to no avail.

We moved around the sanctum to at least follow the parikrama(circum ambulance) route but met with same resistance a sea of humanity, filth, broken furnitures, clothlines blocking our path and cockerels floating around objecting to my presence with their "cuckudu kudu" cackling. My secret desire, to follow on the footsteps of my elders, tread on their footmarks made by constant walking around, met with no success. As tears rolled out of the corner of my eyes I dug deeper into viewfinder of my camera.

Someone suggested going to the roof top for a look at the Shikhar (Tower). As we climbed the steps several small rooms and their doors made our movement quite difficult especially with curious looking inmates coming out. On reaching the top I asked an old man who accompanied my climb upstairs. Where is the Gumbad/Shikhar (tower)? “ Kee gal karde ho Bauji ethe 60 salaan ch bande mar jaande ne te Gumbad kithe labbe ga.”( What Sir! People die in 60 years and you come searching for Tower?) Came the reply in Lahori Punjabi-can hear him in the video.

How would they know the importance of this temple in my psyche?. I have grown up watching Bauji(Grandfather Mohlan Lalji) sitting opposite Chachiji(my Grandmother maimon) inside kitchen of Motinagar reciting Matas shlokas(verses) with regret that he missed his daily chore of going to Sheetla Mata Mandir at Lahore for his Paath and Puja(Daily prayers).Lateron I was told that Idols of most Hindu Temples (around 250-300 in Pakistan) have either been looted or missing or deposited in Government Archaeological Department.

In fact Doodhwali Mata Mandir between Shah Alami and Lahori gate has somehow managed to survive (amongst 3-4 dozen Hindu temples in Pakistan survived) in its dilapidated sanctum sanctorum. Most of the other surviving temples exist in Sindh (Karachi).A recent survey has revealed that Lahore has only one Hindu temple for its over a one thousand-strong Hindu population.The Krishna Temple at Ravi Road is not visited by many because of the distance that devotees have to travel.The temple has been named after Lord Krishna, but it is famous as Kali's Temple, and therefore, followers of Lord Ram and Krishna don't want to pray there. Some groups were making an effort for a temple that would be named after Lord Ram. Met one Hindu Agarwal a business man in Lahore who said "We are Pakistanis without rights of citizenship,"

A study conducted by the Daily Times reveals that city has no place where Hindus can be cremated.