No journey to Harike is complete without giving in to the irresistible temptation of the roadside eateries. Even after a satisfying breakfast, the aroma of hot pakoras is impossible to ignore — onion, paneer, aloo, even the humble bread pakora — one bite can transport you back to school days, when a hot bread pakora, wrapped in a newspaper and a glass of tea could brighten an ordinary day.Here in these roadside dhabas, the tea arrives in those familiar ribbed glasses. It is not merely tea; it is an invitation to pause.The countryside even has its own vocabulary. I still remember someone casually saying, “Today we’re making achaar.” Like any city dweller, I instantly imagined jars of tangy pickle. Instead, the man making the achaar was preserving heaps of freshly cut green fodder for cattle. We both laughed — he at my assumption, and I at discovering that in rural Punjab, achaar isn’t always something served with paranthas. Sometimes, it is prepared for the animals that sustain the village life. It was one of those delightful reminders that every journey teaches us a new language.Further down the journey, Harike Bird Sanctuary unfolded like nature’s own theatre. During winter, thousands of migratory birds descend upon the wetlands. Birdwatchers wait patiently with cameras, while others watch nature perform one of its oldest rituals.The Harike wetland is also home to a rich variety of aquatic life, including the famous Harike fish. For generations, these waters have supported local fishermen. The sight of boats moving gently across the water reminds us that a river is not just a flow of water — it is a source of livelihood, memory, and tradition.The road has its own entertaining moments too. At the toll plaza, someone is searching for cash, while another insists the FASTag has been charged twice. Tempers rise for a minute or two, only to disappear as everyone moves on.A little further ahead, the same impatient drivers wait patiently while a herd of buffaloes claims the road. In rural Punjab, even delays seem to have a sense of humour.The journey is dotted with quiet village gurdwaras, colourful fruit carts piled high with seasonal produce, roadside vendors selling jaggery, roasted corn and fresh sugarcane juice, and fields that change their colours with every season. Every few kilometres, another little scene unfolds, making the drive feel less like a road and more like a moving postcard of Punjab.— Simi Gandhi, AmritsarTribuneindia.com invites contributions to SHAHARNAMA. Share anecdotes, unforgettable incidents, impressionable moments that define your cities, neighbourhoods, what the city stands for, what makes its people who they are. Send your contributions in English, not exceeding 450 words, to shaharnama@Jattvibemail.comDo include the name of your city and your social media handles (X/ Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, LinkedIn)