Train To Pakistan
(Khushwant Singh)
The partition of 1947 was repugnant. Almost in every family in India and Pakistan, there is at least one member, who was either directly linked with tragedy or was a part of it. It is amazing that when we sit down to exchange stories of our ancestors, everybody in a group has a story to tell.
My paternal grandmother was the only daughter and the only child of her parents. Before fleeing her village for India, she witnessed the gruesome sight of her parents being chopped into pieces. I observed the agony on her face and relived the aguish she must have felt every time she narrated the incident. To see her loved ones being chopped off in front of her must have haunted her for years. She told us that it seemed for ages she slept with her eyes open for she feared that the flashes of their killing would appear again. Not only her parents, but so many of her relatives and neighbours lost their lives. On the train to India, there was not a single family that went back intact and untouched.
I remember snuggling in bed with her and my sisters. She told us of these stories repeatedly. Maybe after all these years she had made peace with the incident that had haunted her for more than half her lifetime.
Another thing she liked doing was sit with her newly made friends, whom she had never met before she came to India- her Indian counterparts. They, too, had suffered the same fate. India, too, had burned. There were corpses everywhere. The children were brutally murdered and young girls raped. There was mayhem all around. Little orphans ran hither thither and burnt houses stood testament of the rivalries and clashes.
Sometimes, I feel blessed that I didn?t have to be a witness to all that. But with Iraq, Afghanistan, Israel, Palestine still burning, am I really blessed? The names and place has changed and the saga continues!!
Resumos Relacionados
- Train To Pakistan
- Why Don't They Understand
- Why Don't They Understand
- Freedom At Midnight
- India Hub Of Sex
|
|
