S Preetmohan Singh is proud to be Sikh

​Khushwant Singh once told Balwant Gargi:

“I do not believe in religion. But when my son, Rahul Singh, returned from Oxford and I learned that he had cut his hair, my mother said, ‘I do not want to see my son’s face.’ I was deeply distressed. I could not sleep for several nights. It was extremely difficult for me to bear.”

I asked him, “But you never believed in any religion. Then why did it hurt you so much?”

He replied:

“I do not keep my beard and uncut hair because I believe they will bring me closer to God. I see them as the symbol of the Sikh community. When a child cuts his hair, he becomes disconnected from that community. He becomes like a vessel without a base—his identity is left unsettled, always wavering. I may criticize my own community, and I may even write against Sikh leaders, because I myself am a Sikh. This is a psychological bond, a reality that shakes one’s entire being. I have not kept my beard and hair to meet God. It is within my community, among my own people, that I find my identity and my sense of existence.”

Like Khushwant Singh, I hold a somewhat similar view about Sikhism. I have chosen to keep my beard and uncut hair not out of fear or expectation of divine reward, but because they connect me with the Sikh community and its rich heritage. They are a visible expression of my belonging and my shared identity with my Sikh brothers and sisters.

Within my community, among my own people, I find my sense of individuality and my identity. My beard and hair remind me of where I come from, the values I have inherited, and the traditions that have shaped my life. They are not merely articles of faith; they are symbols of continuity, belonging, and self-respect.

Like Khushwant Singh, I believe that one may question or criticize aspects of one’s own community, yet still remain deeply rooted in it. My Sikh identity is not just a matter of religious practice, it is an integral part of who I am. It gives me a sense of belonging, continuity, and purpose, and I am proud to carry that identity throughout my life.

​Senior Citizens’ Picnic: Among the Truly Successful

Our neighborhood senior citizens’ picnic turned out to be far more than just a social gathering. We found ourselves surrounded by exceptionally successful people, in business leaders, accomplished professionals, entrepreneurs, and retirees who had spent their lives building remarkable careers and families.

Now, in the golden years of their lives, they were simply enjoying the fruits of their hard work. There was no competition, no hurry, only laughter, friendship, shared memories, and gratitude. 

Watching them reminded us that true success is not measured merely by wealth or achievements, but by the ability to cherish life’s final chapters with dignity, contentment, and good company.

For a few delightful hours, we felt privileged to be among people who had lived full and meaningful lives and were celebrating them with quiet triumph and grace.

Emergency and the Morning Bus Chase

Indira Gandhi soon after declaring Emergency

The years 1975 to 1977 were the period of the Emergency declared by Prime Minister Indira Gandhi. While its political impact on the country is well documented, it also brought a noticeable change in the functioning of government offices. Discipline, punctuality, and efficiency suddenly became the order of the day. There was a sense of urgency in everything, work had to be done on time because, after all, it was an “Emergency.”

Around this time, after completing my tenure in Nepal, I joined the Super Grid Power Systems Planning Directorate of the Central Electricity Authority, beginning a new and memorable chapter of my professional career. I was fortunate to work with an outstanding group of colleagues. My good friend Manmohan Sachdeva had played a key role in bringing me to this directorate.

Among the new officers who joined were Satish Thakral, Anil Asthana, M.C. Goyal, S Parthasarthy and myself. Senior officers like V. J. Talwar D.V. Khanna, V. Ramakrishna, S.K. Gupta, Ramesh Kumar, and others were already serving there. It was a highly talented team, and despite our different backgrounds, we shared a wonderful camaraderie.

Anil Asthana and M.C. Goyal, IITians both from Uttar Pradesh, one from the eastern part and the other from western UP, became close friends from the very beginning. They rented accommodation together in Saffdarjang Enclave.

West Block, RK Puram New Delhi

During the Emergency, punctuality became a serious matter. Our Chairman, I K Puri, would personally stand at the entrance of West Block II every morning sharp at 9:30 a.m., observing who arrived late. Daily reports of latecomers were prepared, and although punishments were not always severe, the fear of disciplinary action kept everyone alert. Being late became the topic of discussion in the office.

I used to travel by a contract bus that started from Jangpura my home, passed through Lajpat Nagar, South Extension, Safdarjang Enclave, and then reached our office. Since the bus passed close to Asthana and Goyal’s residence, they requested me to arrange seats for them so that they could reach in time.

Getting them accommodated was not easy because the bus was usually full. After considerable persuasion, the transport manager agreed to reserve two seats for them.

The first day came, but there was no sign of either of them.

The second day, again, both were missing. They had actually paid up full in advance. Hence the management did not really bother about their absence.

My fellow passengers began teasing me, asking, “Where are your special guests?”

I conveyed the message to my friends. They promised sincerely, “PM, tomorrow we will definitely be there on time.”

The next morning, we waited again… and again, nobody appeared.

The bus staff finally declared, “We cannot keep stopping for passengers who never show up.”

A few days later, as the bus approached their stop, I suddenly saw two familiar figures running at full speed. Each had a comb in hand, hurriedly fixing his hair while sprinting toward the bus. Both were completely out of breath!

I requested the driver, “Please wait for a moment, they’re coming.”

The driver smiled, stopped briefly, and both heroes somehow managed to climb aboard, breathing heavily as the rest of us burst into laughter.

The following day, I advised them, “Just come two minutes earlier. You won’t have to run like this.”

They agreed enthusiastically.

The next day, however, they were missing again.

A few days later, history repeated itself, two gentlemen running behind the bus, combs in hand, trying to complete their morning grooming while chasing a moving vehicle!

On another occasion, only one of them managed to catch the bus while the other was left waving from behind.

This continued for a few more days until both finally gave up. They had already paid the monthly bus fare in advance, but discipline and fixed schedules simply did not suit their carefree lifestyle. They preferred sleeping a little longer to catching the contract bus.

Thus ended the very short-lived “Asthana-Goyal Bus Experiment.”

Even today, whenever I think of those Emergency days, I remember not only the strict discipline imposed in government offices but also the unforgettable sight of two brilliant young officers racing after a bus, with combs in their hands, hair half-combed, and determination written all over their faces. It still brings a smile to my face after all these years.

Shiv’s First visit to Farms in Badbar

 

Papa ji holding Shiv in his lap while standing along with his crew of harvesting machine in the farms.

This historic photograph was taken in April 1976 when our son, Shivpreet Singh, was just one year old and had only recently begun taking his first steps.

His proud grandfather, Sardar Vasdev Singh (“Bhagat Ji”), carried him to our ancestral fields in Badbar to witness one of the most important events of village life—the wheat harvest. In those days, the harvested wheat was threshed using a traditional manually operated machine known as a Toka.

As was our family tradition, an Ardaas was offered before the Toka was started for the season, seeking Waheguru’s blessings for a safe and abundant harvest. On that memorable occasion, this photograph was taken.

The picture beautifully captures a happy, curly-haired little Shiv, content and secure in the loving lap of his grandfather. It is more than a family photograph—it is a precious reminder of the bond between generations, our farming roots, and the values of faith, gratitude, and hard work that were passed on from one generation to the next.

Nearly fifty years later, this image continues to bring back cherished memories of those simpler days in the fields of Badbar.

Developing the reclaimed and deserted lands in Nehri Area

This portion of the land lies on the higher side near the farm of Pama, our neighbor who later settled in Canada. It is close to the farthest tubewell, near the Bhure - Kubbe Road side.

This area, measuring about three acres in total and divided into two parcels of roughly 1.5 acres each, had remained neglected for many years. The land was barren, uneven, and almost desert-like. Papaji used to refer to it as the “Khasi Killa” because of its poor condition and low productivity.

Today, we have taken a major step forward by removing the accumulated debris, leveling the land, and converting it into a proper cultivable field. In doing so, we have reclaimed a significant portion of land that had remained underutilized for ages.

During the clearing operation, many snakes and other creatures were discovered in the debris. Some were injured during the process, and at one point a snake even climbed onto the JCB machine, creating quite a commotion among the workers. Fortunately, the operators and laborers handled the situation calmly and professionally, allowing the work to continue safely.

This marks the beginning of our effort to clean up, restore, and bring every acre under productive control. The next step will be to apply gypsum and other soil-improving measures to enhance fertility so that this land can yield crops comparable to the best fields in our holdings.

It is gratifying to see this long-neglected piece of land being transformed into a productive asset once again.

My Nana Ji -Lala Kanwar Bhan

 

My Nana Ji  L Kanwar Bhan served with distinction in the British Indian Army and proudly participated in both the First and Second World Wars. During his military career, he earned several honors and victory badges for his courage and dedication. Whenever a family member needed help securing a position in the Army or a government department, he would personally approach the British officers, dressed impeccably in his military uniform adorned with the medals and badges he had earned on the battlefield. His reputation, discipline, and service record commanded immense respect.

He was a striking personality, 

       L Kanwar Bhan flanked by his grand son Goga and grand daughter Pushpa

fair-complexioned and handsome, often remarked upon for looking almost English in appearance, though he was of short stature. His confidence, integrity, and leadership made him a natural guide for the younger generations.

One of Nana Ji’s greatest legacies was his emphasis on education, particularly English. Thanks to his influence and encouragement, many members of the family developed strong language skills and aspirations. His grandson, Harish Khanna, went on to crack the prestigious IAS examination and eventually retired as Secretary to the Government of India.

The family, however, followed different paths after Partition. His daughters were married into diverse households. Bai Ji and Hari Bai married cousins within the extended family. Savitri was married into a prominent landlord family. Lachhmi Bai married an educated young man from a jeweler’s family who served in the Karachi Shipyard and later moved to the Mumbai Shipyard. Despite the opportunities in Mumbai, Lachhmi Massi longed to remain close to her sisters in Delhi.

In those turbulent post-Partition years, Bai Ji played a significant role in helping the family resettle. She arranged for two houses in Aliganj that had been left behind by departing Muslim families. The family lived there for several years before eventually being allotted refugee accommodation in the newly developing colonies of Lajpat Nagar and the Rajinder Nagar barracks.

Looking back, Nana Ji’s military achievements were only one part of his greatness. His real contribution was the confidence, discipline, education, and sense of service that he instilled in future generations. His influence continued long after the wars had ended, shaping the fortunes of an entire family.

Street Food - Ram Laddu

Ram Laddoos Freshly out of ‘Kadhayee’.

Street food has always been one of my greatest passions. Wherever I travel, I make it a point to ask the local people about the best street snacks in town. Their recommendations often lead me to hidden gems that no guidebook can ever reveal.

On a scorching hot afternoon during my last day of recent visit to Delhi, we were passing through the bustling Central Market of Lajpat Nagar on our way back home. Suddenly, the thought of our favorite Ram Laddoo (Moong Dal Fritters)crossed our minds. Memories came flooding back.

There is a huge Food corner well advertised in the heart of Central Market Lajpat Nagar.

Forty to fifty years ago, a humble vendor selling Ram Laddoos from a small handcart was our regular stop. In those days, for just one rupee, he would happily serve four delicious laddoos. The taste was unforgettable, and so were the memories attached to it.

Without hesitation, our driver Sunil parked the car nearby and walked over to the stall. Soon, we were carrying three leaf bowls filled with piping hot, freshly prepared Ram Laddoos. They were topped with grated radish, tangy chutney, fresh mint, and all the traditional accompaniments. The aroma alone was irresistible.

Overjoyed happiness is lit large on our faces when receiving Leaf bowls filled with piping hot and freshly prepared Ram Ladoos,

We sat right inside the car and began enjoying them. Every bite was bursting with flavor—crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and perfectly complemented by the refreshing chutneys and radish. It was a feast for the senses.

With only a day left before our return flight to the United States, we joked that even if we fell sick, it would be worth the risk! Some experiences are simply too precious to miss. Street food, especially when tied to cherished memories, is not just about eating—it is about reliving a lifetime of moments.

That afternoon, amid the heat, the crowds, and the noise of Delhi, those humble Ram Laddoos gave us one of the most satisfying and memorable meals of our entire trip.

​Father’s Day Memories: English up to Tatapur

My Dad S Vasdev Singh in 1957

Today, on Father’s Day, I fondly remember my beloved Papa Ji and the many stories that still bring a smile to my face.

Punjab officially adopted the Punjabi script after the state’s reorganization in November 1966, yet for many years government offices and courts continued to use numerous Urdu and Persian terms. In those days, Papa Ji worked in the Sessions Courts at Karnal. One of his duties as an English Clerk was to translate difficult Urdu legal terminology into simple English for official use.

Biji would often laugh at this. Her father, who had served with the British Army during both World Wars and had worked closely with English officers, was quite fluent in English. With his usual wit, he would tease that all his sons-in-law had learned English only up to Tatapur, the first railway station from Multan! It was his humorous way of saying that their English had not traveled very far.

Looking back today, I realize that Papa Ji’s true greatness was not in his command of English but in his honesty, dedication, humility, and commitment to duty. Those qualities earned him the respect of all who knew him and became the values he quietly passed on to us.

On this Father’s Day, I remember him with love, gratitude, and admiration. His lessons in integrity and hard work continue to guide me even today.

Happy Father’s Day, Papa Ji. Your legacy lives on in the hearts of your children and grandchildren. 🙏❤️

Reclaiming of My Farms Land in Badbar Dist Barnala

Registering a First sign of Victory by reclaiming every inch of land on Maru parcel. Both Harvinder and me took the brunt to succeed finally.

​For nearly half a century, our family land in Village Badbar remained under cultivation, but its exact boundaries gradually became blurred. Ever since this land was allotted to our family in the erstwhile District Sangrur, my grandmother, father, and uncle farmed it in the traditional way, using bullock carts, manual labor, and time-honored farming methods.

Family Visits to Badbar farms

With my Dad Sardar Vasdev Singh in Nehri lands 1986 

My grand children enjoying our tractor ride in Maru Land in Dec 2015

Our highly-educated Forbes lister walstreet Anslyst son Sardar Shivpreet Singh in 2019

Sardar Shivpreet Singh with his wife Sardarni Dashminder (Shilpy) with their kids Gobind Singh, Jania and Geet in 2019

New Era Takes over

When I assumed responsibility for the land, I decided to modernize its operations. The era of bullock carts and manual transport gave way to tractors and mechanized farming. The “Nehri” parcel, as well as the “Maru” side, underwent significant improvements. 

Heavy earthmoving machinery was deployed to demolish the old structure.

It was scary to work here manually as there were so May snakes, scorpios etc and we had to get them insured against poisoning bites.

This hilltop was about 30 ft high and we had to make special efforts to level it.

On one side, there were large sand hillocks that had to be painstakingly leveled before cultivation could begin. It took considerable effort and investment, but eventually the land became fertile and productive.

Our man behind my land development Meghraj Ji.

Since I was settled in the United States, the land was leased out to contractors who paid annual rent in advance. 

Multi heavy load machinery had to be used to level vast parcel of land for development

However, rumors persisted that portions of our land had gradually been encroached upon by neighboring farmers. I realized that unless I personally intervened, the true boundaries of my property would never be established.

Village House demolished

To support my efforts, I decided to build a permanent residence in the village. The old ancestral house was bulldozed, and rebuilding it became a long and difficult project. 

We had to dump in about 25 dumpers of earth to even up two levels of house

Our favorite Arti Pawan Kumar helped me build this nice and cute house in the village. It took nearly thirteen years before the new house was finally completed during the COVID period. His assistant Jasvir Singh has been on the top of all our demands of house hold or demarcation needs day-in and day-out.

Pawan Kumar and his assistant Jasvir Singh

Pawan Kumar has a knack for construction and made excellent efforts for quality assurance. No leakage of any sort in last five years of house building. Pawan Kumar’s respected mother laid the foundation stone of our house.

Sardarni Harvinder Kaur and Sardar Preetmohan Singh at the entrance

At last, I had a place where I could stay overnight and personally supervise matters relating to the land.

Wheat just before turning golden in Mar 2025

Our First Attempt for Demarcation in May 2013

My first serious attempt at demarcation was in May 2013. Through the help of a close IAS officer friend and a joint Secretary with Punjab Government, the Deputy Commissioner of Barnala was approached. 

We took that measurement rather casually with a though the Dyputy Commissioner word will set everything straight. But that was not to be.

A Kanugo was directed to carry out measurements. The exercise was completed in half a day, and I was informed that there was little discrepancy. However, local people later advised me that the measurements had not been properly enforced, and the actual situation on the ground remained unchanged.

Our Second attempt in Mar 2025

In 2025, after my village house had become fully functional, I made another determined Second effort. With assistance of a close family friend and an IPS officer in Punjab Police, the land was measured through satellite technology and permanent boundary markers, known locally as “Burjis,” were installed. For the first time, I clearly saw how much of my land had been under the possession of neighboring farmers for decades.

The signature cloth map of the village is spread out with Patwari and s Gurpreet Singh Kanugo supervising the same. This revenue records are being maintained since Mughal emperor Akbar days by his Rebenue minister Raja Todar Mal. They were flawless and even the English with modern management tools could not find fault with them.

The neighbors had encroached do derp into my lands. On Hargadh village side, a big piece of land had been taken away and collectively uprooted the Burgees.

How deep the neighbor had encroached our land but this gentleman decided to hand over the possession immediately 

One neighboring landowner, a retired school teacher caring for his daughter’s land while she lived in Canada, immediately acknowledged the measurements. He openly stated that he had no interest in occupying anyone else’s property and voluntarily returned nearly three-fourths of an acre to me. His honesty and integrity left a deep impression on me.

Unfortunately, other encroachers were not so cooperative. Soon after I returned to the United States, several boundary markers were uprooted and thrown away. Despite complaints, little action was taken, and I was forced to leave the matter unresolved. 

The real issue was not merely demarcation, it was the recovery of land that has been under encroachment for many years. Getting it released was often compared to taking food out of lion’s mouth.

Third & Final attempt again in May 2026

Rather than give up, I chose a different path. I became actively involved in village welfare through our family’s support of educational scholarships, flood-relief programs, and community development initiatives. Through DhunAnand Foundation, we provided monthly grocery supplies to flood-affected families and encouraged educational excellence among village students. These efforts helped build goodwill and trust within the community.

A good and clear view of Sis Ganj Gurdwara Sahib, Chandni Chowk Delhi as there was very less Sangat so early in the morning.

On May7 2026, I returned to Punjab again along with Harvinder, determined to make a final effort. Before starting the journey, we went to Sis Ganj Gurdwara Sahib, Chandni Chowk Delhi to pray Ardaas for success of our efforts. Harvinder and me both planned the

Our donations to 60 flood hit families in village Badbar.

The local Newspspers published our efforts with great Zeal.

This time, I planned everything meticulously. The wheat crop had already been harvested, leaving the fields vacant. Fresh demarcation was ordered through the Tehsildar’s office. Approximately ₹50,000 was spent on government fees, satellite surveys, and measurements.

The Police was requested to inspect the site of dispute.

The result was exactly the same as before. Satellite technology confirmed the same boundary lines that had been identified earlier. New boundary markers were installed.

On site discussions to sort out the measurement when Jwala Pardhan of Kisan Mirchandani mediated and helped to draw ‘What’ the form boundary between the contestants. Mistri family still had doubts and wanted to do demarcation on their own again. They are supposed to shell out 19000 for the same.

Boundaries being relaid by our man Hakam Singh.

Learning from past experience, I simultaneously approached the local Deputy Superintendent of Police and filed a written complaint regarding possible obstruction and encroachment. The complaint was marked to the SHO of Dhanaula Police Station, who proved exceptionally fair and helpful.

The SHO personally visited the sites, inspected both parcels, and listened to all parties. He summoned nearly twenty neighboring landowners to the police station and conducted discussions in a transparent manner. I made it clear that I was simply seeking possession of land that legally belonged to me.

The Maru Parcel Demarcation:

One neighboring group brought along a retired police inspector. After examining the situation, he folded his hands and stated that they were ready to return my rightful land in the office of SHO Dhanoula. A written ‘Panchayati Razinama’ was signed in the presence of witnesses in the SHO’s office in Dhanoula. Within a few days, possession of that disputed portion was handed over to me, and after many decades I finally regained control of that parcel.

 The Nehri Parcel Demarcation:

The larger challenge remained on the Nehri land bordering another village named Bhure. Here, members of a Mistri family strongly disputed the measurements. They repeatedly sought additional surveys. First, they commissioned their own measurements at considerable expense. The results matched the government survey exactly. Still dissatisfied, they arranged another independent survey. Once again, the results confirmed the same boundary line.

Jathedar Jwala Pardhan spends his own transport and time to help farmers to reach to an amicable solution. Next to him is a skilled person who operates GPS based Theodolite to demarcate even the minutest inch of the land. The technology has almost sorted out most of farmer’s chronic problems.

Village leaders, including representatives of the Kisan Morcha, Sarpanch, intervened and attempted to persuade them to accept reality. Every survey, every satellite reading, and every independent measurement pointed to the same conclusion.

Mistri Brothers though rough and tough behaved remarkably well, however their uncle was wavering and took about turns to leave my land. As the land was given back to me, I forgave the benefits they might have got for decades. That’s is what the deal was.

What had begun as a simple request for demarcation had turned into a thirteen-year struggle involving government officials, police officers, village leaders, and multiple surveys. It required patience, persistence, and considerable financial investment.

Proud Sardar had a sigh of relief.

Today, as I stand on my reclaimed land, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction. The journey was long, exhausting, and often frustrating, but it reaffirmed my faith that perseverance, lawful conduct, and community goodwill can ultimately prevail over encroachment and injustice.

It was very hot that day with temperature hitting 114 degree F just testing your endurance and physical health. Backing me my left is Meghraj and on my right Sunil Kumar Driver.

Deep discussions going through government revenue record ‘Fard’. You need to know village jugglery of words 

This land was nurtured by my father, grandmother, and uncle. Reclaiming it was not merely a matter of acreage; it was a matter of preserving family heritage, honoring the efforts of previous generations, and ensuring that future generations inherit what rightfully belongs to them.

The most satisfying aspect of this entire journey was that a dispute that had lingered for decades was ultimately resolved amicably. Through patience, mutual understanding, and a little encouragement from the police authorities, the matter was settled without harsh words, hostility, or any physical confrontation. After four to five days of discussions and persuasion in hottest of weather, the neighboring farmers voluntarily handed back the portions of land that had long been under their possession.

Kaku Walia who stood by me like a rock on my back

With the blessings of Waheguru, peace and goodwill prevailed over conflict. I remain deeply grateful to the police officers who extended timely assistance and acted with fairness and professionalism. I also owe a special debt of gratitude to my brother-in-law Kaku Walia , whose tireless efforts, guidance, and valuable contacts proved instrumental in bringing the matter to a successful conclusion. Their support helped transform a long-standing dispute into a peaceful and honorable settlement, for which I shall always remain thankful. 

The unsung Hero, our driver Sunil Kumar who offered services as directed by Hen Harkirat veer ji and Balli Bhenji. Harvinder always asked him to shadow me among so many rough opponents and he stood tall.

Together We  Triumphed!  

The ultimate victory by Harvinder and me was achieved through patience, lawful means and Waheguru's blessings rather than confrontation.

After every few minutes I will return to Car, to escape from extreme hot sun, where Harvinder was waiting and watching over me with a hawk eye.

Throughout this long and challenging campaign, Harvinder and I stood shoulder to shoulder in our determination to reclaim our ancestral land from the rough and tough grip of encroaching neighbors. In the traditional male-dominated world of farming, it naturally fell upon me to lead the encounters, negotiations, and confrontations. However, behind every step of this journey stood Harvinder as my strongest pillar of support.

Harvinder covering me at my back.

From the planning stage to the final execution, she was actively involved in every decision. She provided encouragement during moments of frustration, helped strategize our next moves, and strengthened my resolve whenever obstacles seemed insurmountable. Her faith in our cause never wavered. While I may have been the visible face of the struggle, much of its success rested upon her unwavering support, wisdom, patience, and courage.

We visited very beautifully decorated local Gurdwara Sahib in village for thanksgiving. Harvinder made an instant friend - amazingly affectionate co-villager who repeatedly forced us to her grand place. We plan to visit her next time to reciprocate her friendship. and show her the pic she was longing for.

Finally our heartfull and emotional thanks to Waheguru ji for always  being Ang-Sang during our tough campaign.  Which could be better place than Sri Bangla Sahib Gurdwara   where we both went for blessings immediately  after our Anand Karaj 54 years ago.

Looking back, I can say with complete honesty that without Harvinder standing beside me throughout this arduous journey, this mission would have been far more difficult, and perhaps impossible to achieve. 

The victory was not mine alone, it was ours. God help those who work.

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