Saturday, July 5, 2025

Whispers of Moonlight in July 2020



He playhouse in full glory with full bright moon.


5th July 2020 Tonight:

The moon, so full, so bright,

Bathed all the yard in silver light.

As if the skies had bent to grace

My little home’s familiar space.


Jania playing, when the playhouse is still under being repainted.

The playhouse stood in moon’s embrace,

A joyful, painted, sacred place.

Repainted with care and loving cheer

A few years back by Jania and Neha dear.



Jania and Anika playing in the same Play house before the same was painted by me with help of Jania and our neighbor Neha

Its roof of red, its doors of green,

Now shimmered soft in twilight’s sheen.

Their laughter still lived in the air—

Two gentle souls beyond compare.


The palm tree reached with reverent poise,

Its leaves like hymns without a noise.

The flowers nodded, dreams took flight,

Within the peace of holy night.


And in that hush, my heart could feel

A love so deep, so pure, so real.

This backyard, under heaven’s dome,

Felt less like earth—and more like home.


Saturday, June 28, 2025

‘A turban With Honor’ gift to Gobind friend



Haydon -A look of typical Majestic Sikh from Punjab


When Gobind was in his senior year at Dougherty Valley High School in San Ramon, California, he once approached me with a thoughtful request. 


Kartik another class fellow of Gobind doing the shoot

One of his Caucasian friends Haydon had taken a deep interest in Sikh traditions and expressed a desire to experience the tying of a turban.


Gobind asked, “Dadaji, can we help him tie a turban the same way?”


I smiled and said, “Yes, why not?”






During the school holidays, his friends Haydon and Kartik came over to our home on Sep14, 2019. I selected a turban from my own collection and carefully folded it—a process we call ‘Poonee’, preparing it for the traditional wrap around the head.


Gobind helped me to do ‘Poonee’

We seated him in our living room, and before beginning, we shared a few words about the significance of the turban. I explained that it is not just a piece of cloth, but a symbol of honour, dignity, and identity. It represents respect—not only for oneself but for the values it stands for. 


Giving respect to the turban is the prime moto.

We told him it must never be thrown on the ground or treated carelessly. It is to be worn and handled with reverence.


Haydon looks really majestic. After the decorated on him.

I then tied the turban on him. He was a tall young man with a broad face, and the turban sat perfectly—majestic and dignified. It suited him beautifully, and everyone present could feel the moment’s meaning.


Before he left, we gifted him that same turban, hoping that one day, he might feel inspired to wear it again. Whether he does or not, the memory remains special—a gesture of respect and friendship, wrapped in tradition and understanding.


My Dastarbandi - Pagri Rasam

In the Sikh religion, the initiation of the turban—wrapping it for the first time—is a significant and sacred event. For me, this special moment took place in 1954, when we bought our house in Jangpura. To mark the occasion, we invited the entire extended family and held an “Akhand Path” - continuous reading of Sri Guru Granth Sahib and Kirtan followed by lavish Langar. It was during this celebration that I had my Pagdi Rasam—the traditional ceremony of tying the turban for the first time.


Pic from Bhatia Studio Sarafa Bazar, Panipat 1955

Alongside me was my cousin Tarlochan (Roop) my uncle’s son, who was a year younger than me. Both of us were initiated into this meaningful tradition together. 


Special deal on Vaisakhi day 1958, Bhatia Studio Sarafa Bazar, Panipat

However, I didn’t start wearing the turban regularly right away. It wasn’t until I turned twelve, and moved up a class of 9th in the Saharan Dharam High School, Panipat, that I began tying the turban regularly.


This is on special Diwali deal Krishna Studio, Halwai Haat Panipat. My friend Roshan Sharma and me wanted one side with one and half eye

In those early days, learning to tie the turban was not easy. I remember one of my close neighbors and friends, Inder Singh, who helped me through the process and guided me with patience. The photo you see above was taken when I was about thirteen years old. I was wearing a printed turban, which was quite fashionable at the time. We didn’t use a fifty (the inner layer or under-turban) back then. 

Historic pic with my Dad Sardar Vasdev Singh. My Mom forced my Dad to get a photo on Sale deal at Bhatia Studio, Sarafa Bazar, Panipat. No fifties are used underneath the turban.

Most people, including my father, my uncles, my cousin, and even Dr. Manmohan Singh former Prime minister of India a stanch Sikh from an earlier era, simply wrapped a well-folded, clean turban cloth directly on their heads without a fifty. That was the common practice—neat, respectful, and full of pride.


Looking back, those early lessons and memories around the turban still stay close to my heart.


Jania makes my Day - A Reward



Jania like this color of turban on me.

As I was passing through the entertainment room the other morning, I caught a heartwarming moment that stayed with me. My eldest granddaughter, Jania, was just heading up the stairs in the hallway. She saw me and cheerfully greeted me with a warm “Sat Sri Akal” and a bright “Good morning.” That simple gesture alone made my day. And then, as she walked past, she glanced at me and said, “Dadaji, you have a nice turban on you today and this color looks good on you.”


That one line felt like the biggest award I could have received.


You see, although I’m now retired, I’ve never let that change how I carry myself. Each morning, I still make it a point to wake up, wash up, and get fully dressed — turban and all. It’s not about vanity. It’s about values. I believe that even in retirement, one should maintain dignity and routine. It sets a tone, especially in a joint family. Our grandchildren watch us — they observe, absorb, and eventually mirror our habits.


Jania secures a safe place between her favorite grandparents.

So, when Jania admired my turban that morning, it wasn’t just a compliment on my appearance — it was confirmation that the message is getting through. That my silent way of teaching through example is beginning to resonate. And for that, I’m truly thankful.


Friday, June 27, 2025

Towards a Smarter, Fairer Farming Future





Rama ji and his family hosted us with fancy lunch when we met in Mumbai in Feb 2025

A close friend Mr V Ramakrishna whom we fondly call Rama ji, sends me a video of a self-driven agricultural tractor — a powerful symbol of how far farming technology has come. It reminded me of where we are, and where we need to go, especially in a country like ours, where farming is both livelihood and legacy.



AI self driven modern tractor.

In India, small and marginal farmers — those with landholdings under 2 hectares — make up 86.2% of all farmers. Yet, they control only a small portion of the total agricultural land. These families form the backbone of our rural economy, but they are also the most vulnerable. The idea of modernizing agriculture through AI and automation is tempting, but we must ensure that such reforms don’t push small farmers off their land. If we allow only the big players to dominate, farming will lose its soul — and its people.


Tractor on job for grading and leveling our barren lands in Badbar


I firmly believe cooperative farming is the way forward. We must cluster small plots into larger operational holdings to increase efficiency and viability. This doesn’t mean displacing anyone — it means working together.


The hill still visible is being graded.

I’ve seen transformation firsthand. Years ago, I made a decision that went against tradition. I sold part of our land to buy a tractor, retiring the old oxen and stopping our dependency on outsourced labor. With the help of a retired fauji Charanjeet Singh — a honest and hardworking — and weekend trips to Badbar with packed food (no dhabas back then!), I worked the land myself. Within three years, land that had been barren for four decades bloomed again. That experience taught me that meaningful change comes when you combine courage, faith, and hands-on effort.


Feeling proud and positive 

I’m ready to adopt new technology again — and if with my cousins (we still have 300 acres all consolidated) are willing, I’d love for us to move ahead together. Though well-educated, many of us remain stuck in outdated methods, as if still farming in Akbar’s time. It’s time we changed that, not by abandoning tradition, but by evolving it.



Our families having lunch together on Feb 17, 2025


Dear Rama ji, I know I’m speaking from the heart, and maybe I’m getting emotional. But you’re close enough to me that I can say it honestly: this land, this work, this change — it matters deeply to me. And I’m proud of what God has enabled me to do so far. Thanks for your sweet reminder!



Wednesday, June 25, 2025

A Harvest to Remember With Shiv and My Dad – Badbar, 1976




This is how wheat was crushed and blown by God’s winds to separate grain from stalks.

Wheat harvesting has come a long way—from the sweat and skill of manual labor to the speed and precision of mechanized tools. Back then, threshers were a significant innovation, easing the burden of separating grain from stalks. 



Present days Harvesting Combines.

Now of course the whole produce in the farm of ready grains is done through Harvesting Combines. The job which used to take 2/3 months has been reduced to 2/3 days for a 50 Acre farm land.



Wheat being stalked manually for thrashing.

Golden fields ready for harvesting.

It was the year 1976 when we visited Badbar during the harvest season. The fields were alive with joy and motion. The workers were cheerful, moving rhythmically and proudly with the work of their hands. They had begun on Vaisakhi, April 13th—a day already steeped in significance—and that year, it carried the energy of abundance and celebration.



Shiv in the Lap of my Dad Sardar Vasdev Singh in Apr 1976 standing near a tractor thrasher in our fields in Badbar, Punjab.

I vividly recall my father, then about 57 years old, standing tall and content near his workers, cradling little Shiv—still a toddler—in his lap. There was something timeless about that moment: a father, a child, the land, and its people bound together in tradition and toil.


Harvinder proudly in the midst of golden ripe wheat produce.




The grains ripe into golden yellow.


Finally the produce reaches the Grain Market Badbar, making me the happiest person in the world.

I captured that precious scene in a photograph—a historic picture etched not just in an album, but in memory. That frame holds more than just faces; it holds a feeling, a legacy. It deserves to be recorded and remembered.


Tuesday, June 24, 2025

7 Powerful Lessons for a Meaningful Life






1️⃣ Be aware of what can divide us:

Even the strongest bonds can break due to wealth, power, or land.

Never let material things come between your relationships.


2️⃣ Don’t wait — act now:

Time, death, and opportunity (the customer) wait for no one.

What you can do today, don’t postpone for tomorrow.


3️⃣ Treasure what comes only once:

You get only one mother, father, and youth.

Respect your parents and make the best use of your youthful energy — it won’t come again.


4️⃣ Always hold on to life’s truths:

Truth, duty, and death — these are certain.

Live truthfully, fulfill your responsibilities, and remember life is precious.


5️⃣ Protect your inner wealth:

No one can steal your wisdom, character, or skills.

Nurture them, because they are your true assets.


6️⃣ Choose your words and actions wisely:

An arrow once shot, a word once spoken, and a life once gone can never return.

Speak with care, act with responsibility, and value every moment.


7️⃣ Never forget whom to honor:

Always respect your mother, father, and teacher —

They are the pillars who shape your life and future.