How difficult it is to remember the memories of Jalana City, India. My father S.M. Issa Alvi, was in the Military Engineering Services at the time. Suddenly, one day, I saw my mum packing clothes and other necessary items. I was happy, thinking that we were going for a picnic. Suddenly, my elder sister grabbed me in her arms; we sat in a military truck and were loaded in a train for Pakistan. Inspite of all this past, my love for the Indian artists is evergreen and soothing.