A Proud Dad’s Homecoming
In 2015, a proud father returned to his beloved alma mater — the University of California, Berkeley. Standing at the historic entrance of Sproul Plaza, memories of his student days came rushing back.
Accompanying him were his two little ones, Gobind and Jania, who were wide-eyed and overwhelmed by the energy and legacy of the iconic campus. It was a moment of pride, reflection, and inspiration — a bridge between generations built on dreams, learning, and love.
The location of Mojave Desert in the United States
Driving through the endless stretches of the Mojave Desert today felt like crossing a land made of sun and silence. Known for its dramatic landscapes and extremes, this desert holds some of the most fascinating records on Earth — it’s home to the planet’s hottest air and surface temperatures ever recorded and North America’s lowest elevation at 282 feet below sea level in Death Valley.
The temp today was 80 Degree F.
As we cruised along the highway, we couldn’t resist stopping in Baker, California, to see the World’s Tallest Thermometer, one of the desert’s most famous landmarks. At 2:46 PM, the giant thermometer read a comfortable 80°F — mild by Mojave standards, but still a reminder of the heat this place is known for.
Worlds Tallest Temperature
Standing 134 feet tall, this steel and concrete marvel pays tribute to the record 134°F temperature recorded in nearby Death Valley on July 10, 1913 — the hottest temperature ever measured on Earth. It weighs an astonishing 76,812 pounds, supported by 125 cubic yards of concrete, and glows proudly as a symbol of the desert’s fierce spirit.
The Majestic Joshua Tree
The Mojave isn’t just about extremes, though. It’s also home to the majestic Joshua Tree, a quirky, otherworldly plant found almost nowhere else on Earth. Seeing these trees silhouetted against the setting sun feels like stepping into a dream — a perfect reminder that beauty often thrives where life seems impossible.
Harvinder and me in front of Glass Pyramid Entrance, Louvre Museum
There has been a shocking robbery and major theft at the Lauvre Museum in Paris, France. The stolen treasures belonged to the Queen of Napoleon — her crown, necklaces, earrings, and other ornaments, nine pieces in total.
Minutes after the museum opened to visitors, four suspects parked a vehicle equipped with a mechanical ladder on a road bordering the Seine and used it to reach the Gallery of Apollo. They cut through a window with power tools, entered the gallery, and threatened the guards, who quickly evacuated the rooms. The thieves broke into two display cases containing France’s crown jewels, then descended the ladder and escaped on two scooters — dropping a 19th-century crown, failing to ignite their entry vehicle, and leaving behind a motorcycle helmet. The entire heist was over in less than eight minutes.
Harvinder with Baggi
Harvinder and Nephew Gurpal
This incident reminds me of our own visit to the Jewellery Museum on November 28, 2016. Sharing a few pictures from that memorable day.
To celebrate the joyous occasion of Diwali, students at Windermere Ranch School presented a vibrant and meaningful program that included enactments of Ram Lila and Bandi Chhod Diwas.
The performances beautifully captured the essence of light triumphing over darkness and good prevailing over evil.
Students brought the stories to life with great enthusiasm, showcasing the return of Lord Rama to Ayodhya after his exile and the release of Guru Hargobind Sahib Ji along with the 52 kings from Gwalior Fort. The event was filled with devotion, color, and cultural spirit.
Jania also played a part in the performance, adding charm and energy to the celebration.
Her participation made the occasion even more memorable for everyone present.
Ambu with her only daughter Jasleen
Ambu is my second of the four sisters, born after me. My mother had a difficult pregnancy at the time of Ambu birth. My mom had to be shifted with complete bed-rest to Lady Hardinge Medical College Hospital in New Delhi from Panipat. In those days, getting an ambulance or even a stretcher was not easy. So, a makeshift arrangement was made, a narrow chaarpai was placed in the middle of a Private bus service known as ‘Ithad Bus Service’, balanced over the backrests of three or four seats and paying extra fare seats. That was how my mother was taken to the hospital from Panipat to Delhi.
I still remember clearly my Moms bed was on left row of multi-bed hall in the Lady Hardinge Hospital.
And so, on 1st September 1950, a beautiful child was born, our Ambu. She became quite famous among the hospital staff and children around. The nurses who cared for her were mostly Caucasian in those days, gentle, kind, and good-looking and everyone said that such a lovely baby had never been seen before.
The hospital wrought iron block gate haunts me even today. Bhagwant and me waited long hours along with Papa ji everyday and were too excited to see new baby rather mother for whom we had brought home made food prepared by Masees.
Every evening, my father, my elder sister, and I would go to Lady Hardinge College Hospital on Panchkuian Road. Long before 4 o’clock, when the gates opened for visitors, we would be waiting eagerly outside, ready to catch a glimpse of our mother and the new baby. That was how we first met and fell in love with Ambu.
My mom soon after the Ambu was brought home in Panipat.
As she grew, we noticed that Ambu was left-handed. Everything she did was opposite to what the rest of us did, but always with style and precision. Her handwriting, in particular, was beautiful, neat, rounded letters that looked like pearls on paper.
My four sisters: From left Bhagwant, Tipi, Ambu, and Bobi
Ambu was the first one to be guided by parents to address me as ‘Kaka ji’, a tradition in our Multani culture to address your older brother. Hereafter this became my other name among my younger sisters and their in-laws families.
My grandmother who turned around to get rid of her spitting habit.
Once, during her school days, she learned a poem titled “Don’t Spit Everywhere.” When she recited it at home, my mother immediately got an idea. My grandmother, though loving, had an unpleasant habit of spitting frequently, even in the corners of rooms with no ventilation, much to my mother’s distress. So, my mother asked Ambu to recite the poem for her grandmother.
Newly weds Ambu with her husband Amritpal Singh Dhir on Wedding Reception in elite Gymkhana club New Delhi
Grandchildren have a special charm, and Ambu’s innocent recitation worked like magic. Our grandmother listened attentively and took the message to heart. From that day onward, she stopped spitting indoors. If she ever needed to, she would go outside near the drain. This simple act by Ambu brought a small but lasting change in our household.
Ambu and Bhagwant on either side of Harvinder on our ‘Roka Ceremoney’ in Tilak Nagar New Delhi.
Years later, when the alliance for my marriage was being discussed, Ambu played an unexpected but important role again. At that time, I was living in Jangpura while the rest of the family was in Panipat. When our family visited Harvinder’s grandparents to finalize the proposal, Harvinder’s grandfather, my uncle Retd. Subedar Major Bhai Jagat Narain Kapoor, started clapping and singing joyfully,
“Sada kaam banaya Ambu Ne!”
meaning, “It’s Ambu who made this alliance happen!”
And truly, she had been instrumental in bringing our families together.
Another special thing about Ambu is her deep and continuing interest in medicine, especially organic, natural, and homeopathic remedies. She’s always researching through books or WhatsApp messages about how to stay healthy using natural food and simple methods. In fact, she was the one who introduced homeopathy to our entire family. She even gifted me an old reference book, saying, “You’ll find every remedy here, look up your symptoms and you’ll get the right medicine.”
Thanks to her, our family adopted homeopathic treatment. We keep a basic set of medicines handy for everyday health issues, and it has been a blessing, especially when our grandkids fall sick.
Recently, I myself experienced how accurate her knowledge can be. For some time, I had been suffering from persistent lower back pain, with my hamstrings and calves constantly tight. Despite consulting doctors several times, I couldn’t find the cause. Eventually, a physiotherapist diagnosed it as a pinched nerve in my back and prescribed a few exercises. When I told Ambu about it, she immediately said, “If it’s a weak nerve, I have the medicine, but for a pinched nerve, let me check and tell you by morning.”
Ambu and Amritpal hosted a pizza lunch for us in Secramento couple of years back.
True to her word, she went through her old books that night, researched thoroughly, and called me the next morning. She explained that for a pinched nerve there are no medicines, only exercises help. “One for the spine tail and the other near the neck; Just do these two,” she said clearly and confidently matching the advice of my Physiothrapic expert. I worked on those two exercises regularly, my back pain has started responding positively for the first time. After so many months of pain, I finally felt feeling some relief.
I must admit, earlier I never fully believed in her homeopathic wisdom, often thinking she was being too casual. But this time, her knowledge, precision, and concern proved me wrong. She was absolutely right, and her suggestions matched exactly with what the physiotherapist had said.
Hats off to Ambu. She has always been serious and sincere in what she believes, quietly helping us all stay healthy and happy in her own gentle way.
I thought of writing these memories so that our family remembers and cherishes how much she has contributed to our lives, with her care, her wisdom, and her love.
Ambu and me
And yes, many of my friends say she resembles me so much that we look like twins.
Karva Chauth – As We Celebrated in 2025
Harvinder and Shilpy
This year, our Karva Chauth celebration was simple yet filled with meaning. We were in the car, watching and enjoying the serene view of the moon as it slowly appeared.
To mark the culmination of the ritual, we listened to the Sukhmani Sahib recital through our phone — a peaceful and spiritual experience.
With my Mom celebrating Karva Chouth in New Delhi in 1970s.
After observing this tradition for fifty years, Harvinder was gently persuaded to relax some of the strict observances — a practice my mother had also followed. She herself had approved breaking the fast with an afternoon cup of tea, instead of waiting till moonrise after having only the early morning Sargi.
When we migrated in the early 1990s, celebrating Karva Chauth with a friend over the phone became our way of staying connected to tradition — a simple yet heartfelt solution in those early days.
Now, it feels beautiful and complete to celebrate with Shilpy — our dear daughter-in-law — who brings her own warmth and grace to the ritual.
Best viewing of moon while on a destination wedding reception
Wherever we may be, we continue to recite Path and uphold the spirit of devotion.
Above all, we cherish and enjoy this timeless ritual in our own way — with faith, love, and togetherness.
The Diamond heart when complete
One afternoon, I was sitting at the dining table, completely focused on my little project — a sparkling, heart-shaped design covered in tiny diamonds. Dadu walked by, curious as always.
Dadu: “Geet, what are you doing there with all those shiny little things?”
Me: “I’m making a diamond heart, Dadu. See these little diamonds? I pick them up with this stylus and place them one by one onto the heart.”
Dadu: “How do you knit them all together?”
Me (laughing): “Oh, I don’t knit them, Dadu! I just place them on this sticky surface. It’s already coated with glue.”
Dadu: “So you don’t need to use any glue at all?”
Me: “No, not at all! The surface is sticky enough to hold the diamonds. I just have to follow the pattern — the heart tells me where each color goes.”
Dadu leaned closer, his glasses slipping down his nose, studying the tiny gems that caught the afternoon sunlight.
Dadu: “Ah, I see now. It’s like painting — but with diamonds!”
Me: “Exactly, Dadu! It’s called diamond art. And when I’m done, the heart sparkles just like real jewels.”
Just then, Dadi Ma called out from the kitchen, her warm voice filling the house:
“Come one, come all! Food is ready to be served!”
Dadu chuckled and said, “Looks like our diamond heart will have to wait till after lunch.”
I smiled, placing the stylus down carefully. The little diamonds glittered in the sunlight — like they were smiling too.
Once it’s complete, I shall gift it to Dadi Ma, who works so hard for all of us.
