CHAUBURJI As the tonga turned from the Circular Road into the approach to Yakki Gate, our excitement would turn to unbridled glee. This was one of my mothers regular visits to see her aunt, uncle and cousins, who lived in an old haveli, inside one of Lahores ancient portals and we always looked forward to these excursions. The Yakki Gate derived its name from the martyr Saint Zakki, who fell while defending the city against Mughal invaders from the North. Overtime, the name Zakki became distorted to Yakki. Our trips to the haveli were an adventure as the huge multistoried structure offered infinite possibilities for exploration and flights of fantasy. These visits were also popular with us, as we were invariably treated with mouth watering delicacies that formed part of old Lahores culinary culture. The tonga would jolt to a stop in front of the huge arched gateway protected by a heavy wooden door studded with steel. This led to a spacious courtyard across which, one saw another imposing arch and door. A number of guest rooms and what was perhaps a carriage room opened into this courtyard providing privacy to the residents. The second archway was connected to another rectangular courtyard through a covered passage or dewri. This inner courtyard was the core of the haveli and was overlooked from all sides by balconies and jharokas in multistoried tiers topped by open roof top terraces, barsaatis and mamties. The premises were occupied by many families, all related to one another, but each living as an independent unit - ready to share their happiness and grief in the best traditions of old Lahore. The first such unit in our itinerary was where my grandmother - the elder sister of my maternal grandfather, lived along with her daughter. We would climb up the narrow and gloomy stairs onto an open terrace and into her room. The grand old lady already in her late eighties would welcome us by placing both hands on our heads and bless us. A maid would be sent post-haste to the halwai in the street below for some peras, a generous quantity of which would also be given to us to be taken home. Our next call would be on my mothers uncle - a grand and distinguished old gentleman. As we entered, he would place a light blue turban with delicate gold edging on his head and bless us in the traditional manner. Our attention would however be divided between his big hookah and the gurgling sound it made when he drew on it, while talking to my mother and the delicious namak paras that he would offer us. These calls went on till my mother had fulfilled her obligations to every relative living in the haveli. This interaction had genuine warmth in it, and we were met with unmitigated and simple affection by everyone - in true Lahori fashion. The residents of the haveli were held in very high esteem by the surrounding locality and this respect was evident in the way even the youngsters of the families were treated. The haveli became the focal point of activity on occasions like basant, when almost everyone converged there to enjoy themselves. Other occasions for such get-togethers were marriages or tragedies. These were moments shared by each resident whole-heartedly in the true tradition of the old city. The haveli in this column was akin to many such beautiful abodes within the walled city of Lahore, but decay and the expense to maintain them all pushed these grand residences into oblivion. Whatever the reasons, it is an established fact that these structures or what few remain, are part of a heritage and history that makes up Lahore. I am told that there are a few organisations that are endeavouring to save and restore some old landmarks within the walled city. I hope these landmarks include some of these surviving architectural masterpieces, for they represent a fast vanishing part of Lahores history and way of life. The writer is a freelance columnist.