My name is Nang. Geba Nang.

The words sound similar to renowned silver screen dialogues with same attitude. Only difference lies in speaker who utters them.

Geba Nang, as we came to know him, hailed from backward district Mansa. His love for neat country made liquor, left him alone in life bereft of money and near ones.

He sold his entire 27 acres of agriculture land and thus gained the name Nang (pauper). “Now I am a free bird. I feel so relieved not to go tilling my land, fight with arhtiya over loans or plead people to lift my crop,” said Geba brimming with life in chadra (loin cloth) – kurta.


So where does his fortune earned from selling ancestral land go? “I am using it to fulfill my cherished desires. I’ll visit every place in Chandigarh – the city of free souls. Beautiful gardens, parks and markets beckon me,” he said.

Geba came to visit Chandigarh in chilling weather when the temperature was even below 10 degrees. While me and roommates could hardly manage to move out of our quilts, he sprung up early in the morning, poured buckets of chill cold water and was ready within half an hour.

His wine supply had exhausted in mid of night and now he was too impatient to wait for the Chandigarh taverns to open. A stranger to the city, he could not muster courage to move out alone.

“O mundeyon uth kharo. Chhi vajj gaye, theke khul gaye honge?” (Wake up boys its already 6 now and liquor vends must be open by now)”, he called all of us.
Finally, after much persuasion, one of us accompanied him upto liquor vend. The owner of liquor vend was performing his prayers, praying deity to showers more customers today, when Geba reached the place.

Within wink of an eye, he bought the bottle, opened it and decanted its contents down his throat. “Now I feel better. It indeed seems to be morning now,” he said with a different aura taking over his face.

He came back to our den, whistling and happy. Unable to express his gratitude for his companion who took him to vend, he said, “Do come to my village in Mansa. I will take all of you on a joy ride.”

“My name is Gurdev and it was my mother who last called me by that name. Ask anyone about Geba Nang. Or Geba Amli. And even if this does not work ask for Bhosru. You’ll surely find me.