A long time ago when I was pursuing an active career, I felt an urge to visit the premises, where my mentor and teacher Anna Molka Ahmed wove her magic with oil on canvas in the Fine Arts Department of the Punjab University. As I walked towards the old graceful structure that was the University Hall, I passed the dust-coated metallic figure of a distinguished looking individual in academic robes. This was Professor Alfred Woolner, who had been a Professor of Sanskrit and Vice Chancellor of the Punjab University between 1928 and 1936. It is regretful that while the citizens of Lahore owe a great debt to this great man and his service towards educating the youth of their city, very few may have even noticed the statue. There was I am told, at least one Lahori, who had the 'madness in him to acknowledge in his own queer way, the long dead professors contribution to the City of Gardens. In a moving daily ritual, this person would approach the statue, stand before it for a few seconds and then reverently polish its shoes with a cloth, oblivious to the stares that were directed his way by passersby. He was once asked as to why he did this and his response was simple: He was a great man, who gave this city the light of knowledge. Nearby, in front of Gol Bagh (now called Nasir Bagh), stood the statue of a moustached individual dressed in traditional dress and turban. This was Lala Lajpat Rai, a well known political figure, who died on November 17, 1928, on account of injuries suffered during lathi charge on a procession, led by him and Pandit Madan Mohan Malaviya, against the Simon Commission. Lala Lajpat Rai established a Trust in 1927 to build and run a Chest Hospital for women, reportedly, at the spot where his mother had breathed her last because of Tuberculosis. This institution known to Lahoris as Gulab Devi Hospital continues to provide succour to thousands of young and old from all over Pakistan. Rais statue was dismantled in 1948 and re-erected in Simla (India), where it stands to this day. As a young child, while walking or being driven on the Mall past Charing Cross, I often marvelled at a beautiful white marble pavilion that stood on one side of a small well kept public garden opposite the Punjab Assembly building. This pavilion once housed the bronze statue of a robust woman sitting on a throne. To most Lahoris, the spot was simply Malika ka but or the 'Queens Statue, so named because the figure under the marble roof was that of Queen Victoria, who ruled the British Empire for more than 63 years from 1837 to 1901. The statue was installed in 1902, but removed in 1951 and placed in the Lahore Museum, where it sits in obscurity. Sir John Lawrence was the first Governor of the Punjab at Lahore and later Governor General of India from 1864 to 1869. The Lawrence Gardens and Lawrence Road are named after this great administrator whose tenure is considered to be the most fair and just in the history of Lahore. His statue holding a sword in one hand and a pen in the other was erected in front of the Lahore High Court in 1887. During 1920s, there was an agitation for the removal of this statue, but this piece of Lahores history survived the violence. It was, however, removed and re-erected in what is now Foyle and Londonderry College (Northern Ireland) with a broken sword in one hand, damaged during the agitation in Lahore. Sir Ganga Ram was a leading engineer cum building contractor cum philanthropist of Lahore, who symbolised the citys spirit to the core. One of his many legacies that continue to serve thousands of suffering Lahoris is the Ganga Ram Hospital located on what is now Shahrah-i-Jinnah. The statue of this great son of Lahore was erected on the Mall near the High Courts, but what happened to it can best be described in the words of Saadat Hasan Manto, the celebrated Urdu short story writer, in one of his tales. Manto narrates that during the frenzy of communal riots in 1947, an inflamed mob attacked the statue, which was pelted with stones and its face smothered with tar. Then, a man carrying a 'garland of old shoes clambered up the figure, but at this point the police arrived and opened fire, injuring amongst others, the fellow with the 'garland. As the individual fell, the mob ironically shouted: Let us rush him to Sir Ganga Ram Hospital. At one time, there was also a sculpture of King Edward VII, mounted on a horse in front of the King Edward Medical College. This statue was also removed and its whereabouts remain unknown to this day. The writer is a freelance columnist.