Memoirs of My HEC Childhood

 

Growing Up in HEC, Ranchi – A Childhood Blessed with Simplicity and Joy

Some memories never fade. They remain etched in the heart, becoming even more precious with the passage of time. My childhood in the Heavy Engineering Corporation (HEC) township at Ranchi is one such treasure that I often revisit with nostalgia.

My father worked in the Heavy Engineering Corporation—initially at the Foundry Forge Plant (FFP) and later at the Heavy Machine Tools Plant (HMTP). We lived in Officers' Quarter E-157, Sector II, a spacious three-bedroom house that was more than just a residence—it was a world in itself.

The house had a large front lawn and an even bigger kitchen garden in the rear courtyard. There was a garage that housed our sky-blue Ambassador car, registration number BRV 2652—a number I still remember after all these years. Adjacent to the garage was a poultry pen where we kept nearly twenty hens, ensuring a regular supply of fresh eggs.

Our kitchen garden was the pride of the neighbourhood. It boasted an impressive collection of fruit trees: three varieties of guava, three mango trees—Langra, Dasheri and Malda—two litchi trees, one chikoo tree, one peach tree, and five banana plants. Alongside these were neatly maintained vegetable beds that yielded seasonal vegetables, potatoes and onions. Our gardener lived in a small hut provided within the compound and took exceptional care of the garden.

The front lawn was equally beautiful, adorned with bougainvillea, a magnificent Gulmohar tree, and flower beds blooming with roses, lilies and chrysanthemums. A thick hedge of flowering shrubs separated the ornamental front lawn from the productive kitchen garden behind. Between the two was a small private lawn, carefully screened from the road by tall hedges. This secluded corner became our family's favourite gathering place, where we often enjoyed evening tea and occasionally hosted barbecues under the open sky.

We were four siblings. My eldest brother was Satpal, followed by Maninder (fondly called Pinky), then my sister Jaskiran (Reena), and I was the youngest.

Looking back, I realise how fortunate we were to have experienced such a carefree and joyful childhood.

Every morning began with a simple family ritual. My father, my elder brother and I would take turns walking nearly two and a half kilometres to the gawala khatal near the Jagannath Temple to fetch fresh milk. Those early morning walks were less a chore and more a cherished opportunity to spend time together. On returning home, we would enjoy our morning tea in the little private lawn before getting ready for school.

Our school bus took us to St. Xavier's School, Doranda. As soon as we returned in the afternoon, our school bags were tossed aside, we grabbed a quick bite, and rushed to the playground next to our house. Cricket, football and volleyball dominated our evenings. Time simply flew, and we seldom realised when the sun had set. More often than not, my mother or sister had to come looking for me and call me home.

Homework was rarely done with great enthusiasm; like most children, I completed it only because I had to!

Once or twice every month, another exciting event awaited us. Movies were screened in an open-air theatre known as the Sangam Club. Families carried chairs from their homes to secure the best viewing spots. Watching films under the stars, surrounded by friends and neighbours, was an experience that today's multiplexes can never replicate.

Life in the HEC township was not merely about comfortable living; it was about belonging to a close-knit community.

Festivals were celebrated collectively, irrespective of religion or region. During Holi, groups of families visited one another's homes, applying colours, exchanging sweets, singing songs and finally gathering for a community lunch hosted by one family in rotation. Diwali, Durga Puja, Christmas and Gurpurabs were celebrated with the same warmth and enthusiasm.

One event remains particularly vivid in my memory. In 1969, during the celebrations marking the 500th birth anniversary of Guru Nanak Dev Ji, the entire community came together in the true spirit of sewa. We children enthusiastically helped decorate the pandal, while the ladies spent the entire night preparing langar. Everyone contributed in whatever way they could, without expectation or distinction.

Those were days when neighbours were like extended family, children grew up together, doors remained open, and relationships were built on trust, affection and shared values.

When I look back today, I realise that the greatest gift my parents gave us was not material comfort but the privilege of growing up in a community that taught us simplicity, discipline, friendship, service and togetherness. Those values have remained with me throughout my life and continue to guide me even today.