Latest news with #BabaJi
BBC News
11-08-2025
- General
- BBC News
Bradford veteran on WW2: 'The bombs fell all around, but I survived'
Victory over Japan Day - or VJ day - on 15 August marks the day in 1945 when World War Two ended. Ahead of VJ Day, I have been speaking to my grandfather, one of the oldest surviving veterans of that conflict. "The Japanese bombed us. They wanted us to die. The bombs fell all around, but I survived," my grandfather tells Khan, or Baba Ji as I call him, has recently turned has lived through five monarchs, more than 20 prime ministers and countless it is the war he remembers as a teenager which has stayed with slipped into Punjabi as he told me how he was just 17 when he signed reason was simple, there was no food, no jobs, and the British Army paid a wage. "As a young man, along with other men from my village I served this country in the war and was proud of my service in the British Indian Army," Baba Ji service took him to Myanmar, then known as Burma, where he joined tens of thousands of other troops from the British Indian Army. Around 2.3 million soldiers served in the Indian Army during WW2, and 89,000 of them died in military was gruelling work, fighting in the harsh jungle terrain, often in extreme conditions, and relied on soldiers and support staff like cooks, drivers and road builders to keep supply lines moving. "We wanted to get our freedom from British rule and the only way was to help in winning the war," my grandfather of Asian labourers died building roads and carrying heavy loads through mountains and jungle, including the Ledo Road between China and India, working with basic tools and often suffering from tropical diseases like Ji's job was to look after the mules that carried supplies and ammunition."We'd eat bread, and we'd feed the horses the same meal," he told me. When I was a teenager studying history at school, he told me about friends and comrades who were captured by the survived, others did not. It is still too painful for him to talk about that part of his of soldiers died in the Burma campaign, many from Commonwealth countries, and their sacrifice and valour are immortalised in a memorial in the heart of Bradford."I have served this country all my life, with all my heart," Baba Ji told me."I wanted to join the fight against those who were against this nation."As far as I could see it was our motherland, where we laboured and to whom we gave our all."We did not differentiate between the English or Muslims in the army." After the war, the UK faced a labour shortage, and people from India, Pakistan, the Caribbean and other Commonwealth countries came to help rebuild the Ji, like thousands of others, moved to Britain in the 1960s and made Bradford his arrival changed many British cities, which became home to new communities and cultures."My family has been raised and educated here and my children and grandchildren work hard and serve and honour this country," Baba Ji over a hundred years between Baba Ji Mirza and his youngest great grandchild. They may not yet understand the significance of his story, but one day they will know about the courage and resilience of his reporting by Anil Kumar Bharath.
Khaleej Times
23-06-2025
- Khaleej Times
Food Review: This Punjabi eatery's iconic 'Butter Chicken' dates back to 1962
There's butter chicken, and then there's Baba's butter chicken—the kind that doesn't just feed your cravings but stirs something ancestral in your soul. Tucked along Dubai's ever-busy Sheikh Zayed Road, Baba's Chicken may be a new entrant in the city's dining scene, but its roots run deep. Established in 1962 in Ludhiana, India, by the late S. Himmat Singh—affectionately known as Baba Ji—this iconic Punjabi kitchen has been lovingly nurtured across generations. Today, his grandson Avneet Singh leads the legacy, expanding its delicious footprint from India and Canada to the Middle East. So how does a storied North Indian eatery translate its magic in a city as diverse and discerning as Dubai? Flawlessly, almost. I heard about Baba's from a Punjabi friend who swears by it—someone who grew up on the stuff, and when he called it 'the best butter chicken this side of Amritsar,' I knew my healthy-diet wagon could withstand a cheat day. Or two. The vibe From the moment you walk in, there's a sense of bustle and warmth. It's not trying to be fine-dine fancy, nor is it a grimy takeaway joint—it hits the sweet spot: a vibrant, nostalgic space (with descriptive interiors) that smells like tandoor smoke, simmered spices, and hospitality. The feast Let's start with the starters. I skipped salads—because cheating on a cheat meal felt like treason—and eased in with papad, raw onions, and that zippy green chutney that slaps you awake. The Mutton Seekh Roll outshined its chicken counterpart with flavourful tenderness that held its own without being too heavy. The Dahi Ke Kebab—recommended by the server—were a surprise winner. Crisp outside, creamy and tangy inside, they're a vegetarian flex that even carnivores won't mind. For mains, I veered off the expected path and ordered Tawa Mutton Tikka. This dish deserves more PR. Rich, deeply spiced gravy and mutton that melted like it had somewhere better to be. I mopped it all up with piping hot butter naan, of course. We also tried the Baba's Fried Fish (BFF)—a golden, crunchy, moist marvel with the right hit of spice. But the star, naturally, was the Baba Special Butter Chicken. The gravy was luscious and balanced—creamy, tomatoey, not overly sweet. While the chicken itself could've used just a bit more tenderness, the overall dish still hit all the comforting, addictive notes you'd expect from a recipe that's been fine-tuned for over six decades. Dessert was where they sealed the deal. The Ras Malai was soft and delicately spiced, the Gulab Jamun warm and syrupy, and both together had me wondering why I ever gave up sugar. And yes, they serve lassi—because what's a Punjabi feast without one? To sum it up: Baba's Chicken isn't really trying to reinvent North Indian cuisine; instead, it celebrates it and presents it with unpretentious flair. It's a place for comfort, for nostalgia, for unfiltered indulgence. Whether you're Punjabi or not, this is the kind of food that speaks your language. Verdict? Come for the butter chicken. Return for almost everything the place offers.
