I was born in Srinagar on 26th August 1979, a hot summer day during the holy month of Ramadhan. The hospital, situated near the picturesque Dal Lake, offered a beautiful view from the second floor. My elders recall it as a warm and vibrant day, and our home was just a few minutes' walk from the hospital. At the time of my birth, my father was working in the field of administration—a stern man known for his no-nonsense attitude—while my mother served in the Department of Education.
I spent most of my childhood either in our ancestral house or in government quarters allotted to my father. The ancestral house, a dilapidated structure, stood a few meters away from the famous Jhelum River, while on the other side lay the bustling Nawa Bazar market. This market was full of life and energy. Iconic shopkeepers like Ali Puj, Hassan Gor, and Nab Sabin were as popular as local politicians. These shopfronts, affectionately nicknamed as ‘pend’, became a central part of my early memories.
Our joint family included my grandparents, three uncles, two aunts, and cousins. One of my uncles, a lively man working in the State Secretariat, often took me on bike rides, even though his bike was outdated. His enthusiasm made every ride enjoyable, and we would often accompany him on trips to nearby tourist spots.
My cousin, who was younger than me, and I both studied at New Era Public School located in one of the posh areas of the city. Our parents regularly visited the school to monitor our progress and pay fees—around ₹250 for tuition and ₹100 for the bus each month. Occasionally, my father would make unannounced visits along with his friends to inquire about our performance.
My father was my first teacher. A lover of literature and poetry, he had studied English literature in college. He admired Shakespeare’s dramas, Dickens’ prose, and Wordsworth’s poetry. He would dictate passages to us—his three children. Being the youngest, I often played the role of listener while my elder siblings, especially my brother, grasped his teachings quickly. We had daily discussions over the national newspaper and editorials, which helped shape our understanding of the world.
Despite his demanding job, my father prioritized time with his children, teaching us moral values and nuances of the English language. My brother excelled academically, particularly in writing, while I gravitated towards sports and creative pursuits. I still remember the day my father took me to watch an English movie at Regal Cinema. He explained the story and characters patiently, making the experience memorable. During the intermission, we shared popcorn and coffee with his friends before returning home, relaxed and content.
School weekends were dedicated to sports and extracurriculars. Cricket, badminton, billiards, table tennis, carrom, and chess occupied my time. After school, my friends and I would walk in groups toward Zero Bridge to catch our bus, exchanging jokes along the way.
As our family grew and my uncles got married, we moved from the ancestral house to government quarters at my father’s workplace. Though this change saddened us initially, we eventually embraced the new environment. The new flat was in a high-rise building with a large playground and numerous facilities, although it lacked the cultural richness of our previous home. The neighborhood, however, was welcoming, and residents—despite differences in caste or religion—lived in harmony.
Living below us was Ram Singh, a cheerful and loyal subordinate of my father. He played a vital role in our daily lives, often helping with household chores and shopping. I vividly remember the butcher nearby who sold meat for ₹45/kg and allowed us to choose our preferred cuts. In winters, we’d often have harissa, a traditional delicacy made from minced meat, eaten with bread to stay warm.
As a child, I was physically frail, and my parents frequently worried about my health. I spent a lot of time in hospitals and clinics. I particularly remember a consultation with the renowned Dr. Ali Mohammad Jan at Polo View, Lal Chowk. His calm demeanor and unique way of examining patients made a lasting impression. After a detailed inquiry and a gentle examination, he prescribed just three medicines—Sodafed, Vi Magna, and a vitamin injection—and confidently told my father that no follow-up was needed. His reassurance brought a sense of calm to our anxious hearts.
Winters often took us to Jammu, where I stayed with my uncle's family for three months. Since my uncle worked in the Secretariat, I sometimes traveled alone by air, using the official travel perks he was entitled to. On one such journey, I visited the Chief Minister's office, and he kindly facilitated my flight booking. I was dropped off at Satwari Airport, located near a Muslim shrine, and despite being a primary student traveling solo, I managed the journey smoothly.
When my father neared the end of his career, we decided to build a home in Bathindi, near a police station and adjacent to Mecca Masjid. Legal issues over land ownership delayed the construction, but after a favorable court verdict, we hired a contractor from West Bengal. He and his team worked diligently despite the challenging weather, and eventually, we moved in with our grandmother.
Back in school, I had a knack for mathematics and was a favorite among math teachers. However, during my early classes, I often skipped school because I was dependent on my elder brother for transportation, and his attendance wasn't as strictly monitored. Once at school, I followed the rules diligently. The school had a strict principal who liked me and often supported me. I recall being bullied by seniors but was rescued by my brother and his senior friends.
In class eight, I shocked everyone by outperforming the regular toppers and becoming the highest scorer in the exams. This drew both admiration and envy. Our English teacher, who was also the principal’s daughter, once asked us to write a four-to-five-page letter. With help from my elder brother, I submitted an exceptional piece. She was so impressed that she submitted it to the principal and later nominated me for an award. That moment marked a turning point in my academic journey and motivated me to strive harder.

Email:------------------------sajad_08phd12@nitsri.ac.in