One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] His slightly swirly moustache renders the 66-year-old ironing man in Gurgaon’s Sadar Bazaar in the National Capital Region with a certain measure of awe. Even more remarkable is his name. “Yaad means remembrance,” Yaad Ram confesses the fact shyly. This hot steamy afternoon, Mr Ram recalls that he left his village, Mator, in Alwar, Rajasthan, more than 40 years ago. He agrees to summon five memories—or “yaadein”—of his native place that he holds dear to his heart. 1. We had a talaab (pond) near our village. It was as large as the chowk here in Sadar Bazaar. I would swim daily with my friends during the afternoon hours.