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I am writing from St Paul, Minnesota, USA. I just read your story about Pishin. During 1950’s, my father was posted in Pishin. I spent my early childhood there. There was no electricity. Our yard had grapes, figs, and apricot trees. The colors of spring bloom are forever etched in my mind.
The school was on the outskirts of the town, right on the road leading to Quetta. There was a garden called “sarkari bagh” behind the school. A small canal used to lead from this garden toward where we lived. I walked by this canal quite often.
An apple orchard was part of the school. The classroom windows had a lot of broken glass and in winter it used to get very cold. I remember Chowdhury Mohammed Ali, our math teacher, would go to tyhe apple trees, break a bough, and come back and punish us by hitting our palms with the stick. In cold winter months, it would cut like a knife. Some of his sons still live in Pishin.
It was a rough but a beautiful place. My favorite fruits were apricots, peaches, ‘shehtoot’ and plums. I also remember a bad earthquake while we lived there.
Two of my classmates were brothers named Sa’ad Ullah and Hafeez Ullah. Another classmate was Nasrullah.
In 1958, we left for Karachi. I have always wanted to go back and visit Pishin. I am sure it is not a small town anymore. I would love to hear from some of the Pishin residents.
While All Things Pakistan has remained alive and online, it has been dormant since June 11, 2011 - when, on the blog's 5th anniversary, we decided that it was time to move on. We have been heartened by your messages and the fact that a steady traffic has continued to enjoy the archived content on ATP.
While the blog itself will remain dormant, we are now beginning to add occasional (but infrequent) new material by the original authors of the blog, mostly to archive what they may now publish elsewhere. We will also be updating older posts to make sure that new readers who stumble onto this site still find it useful.
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I am writing from St Paul, Minnesota, USA. I just read your story about Pishin. During 1950’s, my father was posted in Pishin. I spent my early childhood there. There was no electricity. Our yard had grapes, figs, and apricot trees. The colors of spring bloom are forever etched in my mind.
The school was on the outskirts of the town, right on the road leading to Quetta. There was a garden called “sarkari bagh” behind the school. A small canal used to lead from this garden toward where we lived. I walked by this canal quite often.
An apple orchard was part of the school. The classroom windows had a lot of broken glass and in winter it used to get very cold. I remember Chowdhury Mohammed Ali, our math teacher, would go to tyhe apple trees, break a bough, and come back and punish us by hitting our palms with the stick. In cold winter months, it would cut like a knife. Some of his sons still live in Pishin.
It was a rough but a beautiful place. My favorite fruits were apricots, peaches, ‘shehtoot’ and plums. I also remember a bad earthquake while we lived there.
Two of my classmates were brothers named Sa’ad Ullah and Hafeez Ullah. Another classmate was Nasrullah.
In 1958, we left for Karachi. I have always wanted to go back and visit Pishin. I am sure it is not a small town anymore. I would love to hear from some of the Pishin residents.
i m AHSANULLAH LIVE IN PISHIN,,the fruits of pishin is really tasty..specially the water millon of my village name(KHUDAIDAZAI)…i love it very much