Riffat Alvi

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.