CHAUBURJI There is an old saying that "anyone who has not seen Lahore has not been born'; there is an old Lahori friend, who insists that it was this saying that prompted people of all races and religions to lend colour to this city. Historically, however, Lahore lay astride one of the major trade routes in the subcontinent and was off and on, the seat of successive empires, hence economic and political compulsions created the city's cosmopolitan climate. It was a city where Sikhs, Hindus, Christians and Parsees coexisted harmoniously with Muslims and it is to the memory of this interfaith brotherhood that I am dedicating this week's column. At the intersection of Queen's Road (now Shahra-e-Fatima Jinnah) and Mozang Road stands a sprawling medical complex known as Ganga Ram Hospital. This facility was a gift to the city of Lahore by one of its illustrious sons, Sir Ganga Ram, engineer, builder and philanthropist par excellence. A statue of this great man was installed on the Mall opposite the chief court now known as the High Court, but can no longer be seen. A clue to its fate can perhaps be found in Saadat Hasan Manto's story where religious zealots attempting to destroy it prompted police action, resulting in critical injuries to the leaders of the mob. Ironically, the agitators rushed these men to the very facility created by the person whose likeness had been the focus of their blind and twisted anger. Blessedly, the National College of Arts has had the vision to recognise Sir Ganga Ram's contribution to Lahore and reprinted a book on his life, which can be found at any good bookstall today. Opposite the High Court, and across the Mall, in an enclave that could be accessed through a wide gap between buildings there once stood a beautiful white colonial style bungalow with wide lawns. This was the Sethna residence - home to two unforgettable Parsee ladies, one of whom was my mother's teacher and mentor in Victoria Girl's High School, inside the walled city of Lahore. Clad in a conservative white cotton sari, she would often be seen walking up our drive on Queen's Road to spend time with her former student. Return calls to the white house were eagerly anticipated by us children, as tea was always complimented by some of the best cookies one had ever tasted. I wonder if any of the Sethnas related to her are still living in Lahore and whether the cookie recipe still runs in the family? Another unforgettable Parsee family of Lahore was the Karanjias, who lived on Waris Road and later on Queen's Road. Jal Karanjia was a handsome, bespectacled individual, who ran a car showroom on the Mall called 'Motor House', but it was Mrs Karanjia, known to all and sundry as Bai Jee, who left an indelible impression on visitors. Dressed in a white cotton sari, she was always armed with an impish smile and witty remarks. The other cause of her extreme popularity with the younger generation was the delicious homemade ice cream that she made and generously shared with her friends and guests. Watching the 20th century Fox logo on DVDs always brings back memories of the Nadkarni family. Mr Nadkarni was the head of the well known Hollywood film company's distribution system in Pakistan. A pukka Lahori, he resided in a comfortable flat opposite the Dyal Singh Mansions on the Mall. His wife, known to us as Aee, was a symbol of unadulterated love, affection and kindness and nobody in need was ever turned away from her doorstep. My family had the privilege of being on very intimate terms with the Nadkarnis in a unique multi-tiered relationship. Sudhir, their son was my schoolmate since kindergarten, Lalita and Pamela, the two daughters, were my elder sister's companions and Aee was my mother's close friend. The Nadkarnis were great devotees of Hazrat Ali Hajveri or Data Sahib. Mr Nadkarni believed that he owed his life to the saint as according to him, the latter had appeared in a dream during a railway journey and ordered him to get off at the next station. Some time later, the train met an accident killing everyone in the compartment except one, who had got off in obedience to the vision. The family reluctantly migrated to the US when the film company wound up its offices in Pakistan. The writer is a freelance columnist.