Sometime before we moved from Pahar Ganj, a relative's family had moved into a house at the end of our street. I have a vague memory of visiting them a few times. Even before we moved from Pahar Ganj, they had relocated to another place. At the time, I didn’t even know how this family was related to us.

However, in the coming years, this family became one of the closest to ours. That relationship continues to this day, spanning four generations. It turns out they were my mother’s uncle and his family. We affectionately called him "mama" and his wife "mami." They had three children—two sons and one daughter—and lived in Railway Quarters near Minto Bridge. Our families frequently visited each other, though we often visited them more, as mama was the eldest in the family.

I always looked forward to visiting their house. Mama and Mami were incredibly warm and affectionate, never the types to chide or discipline children. Their eldest son was more than ten years older than me, and their daughter and younger son were just a bit younger. Despite the age differences, we all got along like friends.

The railway lines ran close to their home, and watching the different trains passing by was always fascinating. Mami would tell us stories, and I can still remember sitting on her lap as a three or four-year-old, completely engrossed in her tales. There was one particular story she’d repeat over and over, and I never grew tired of it. In fact, I’d demand she tell it again. And Mami’s cooking—oh, it was simply incredible.

Winter days were even more special. In those days, cots and beds were a rarity. It was all about mats with bedsheets as the base and a cotton blanket for the summer, or a cozy razai during winter. Mama had the responsibility of making the bed and arranging us kids in a particular order. The razai was a challenge since they had only a few, but mama skillfully ensured that everyone was fully covered.

Getting into those snug razais, chatting away, and eventually drifting off to sleep—what a joy that was.

Continued in 192. Only Ones - Part