Sanjha Morcha

May no one go through what we had to

I still remember the horrors of Partition. Nine of our women relatives were burnt alive in a straw godown by rioters. The screams still haunt me

May no one go through what we had to

Vanti Devi

I WAS 18 and newly married when Partition took place. Life had always been uneventful in my husband’s village Thedi (Alipur tehsil, Muzaffargarh). There had never been any problem or enmity between Hindus and Muslims. People of both communities lived peacefully.

I came from Kothla (Reham Ali Shah village, Jatoi tehsil) also in Muzaffargarh. I studied till Class II and learnt to read Punjabi while my cousin brothers learnt Urdu. My father was a goldsmith. He would visit neighbouring villages to get jewellery orders and would often stay there for four to five days at a stretch.

I still remember the horrors of Partition. Nine of our women relatives were burnt alive in a straw godown by Muslim rioters. The screams still haunt me.

There are some good memories too. In my immediate family, there were four members, including my parents and a sister. My extended family was quite big, having nearly 25 members. I remember going to the lake with my cousins and enjoying all festivals, irrespective of religion. There was a feeling of brotherhood among neighbours. My friends and I used to go to the village pond for playing and washing clothes.

In 1947, one of our neighbours who was in the police informed us that Muslims were attacking Hindu families. Pre-Partition violence and riots came as a shock to us. We took shelter in the village gurdwara and stayed there for three-four days. There were almost 20 others there too. The news of Hindus leaving their houses and going to India was coming from all over after Pakistan had been declared as a Muslim country. There weren’t many options before us — accept Islam, leave Pakistan, or get killed. Muslims around us were threatening to kill us if we did not convert to Islam. Some Hindus had already been killed after they refused to accept this condition.

The men in our family were worried about the safety and protection of women. Two to three Muslim families in the village who were on good terms with us. Despite the riots, there was no change in our relationship. They protected us from the rioters, hiding us in their barn. We lived there for four-five days, surviving only on dates. Initially, most people thought this was a temporary phase but soon everyone realised that this division would be permanent. We decided to leave for India. Our neighbours helped us pack our belongings. They also provided food and milk for the children. Nearly 30 male members of these Muslim families safely escorted at least 25 members of our family and relatives to Sherpur in Muzaffargarh, from where we took a train to Attari and then from Attari to Sangrur.

In Sangrur, we lived in a refugee camp. There was no arrangement for food. All our money had been spent and there was no more stock of food/ration. There was no way to earn money as there was no employment. After a few days, we left for Shahabad Markanda in Ambala to look for work. My family struggled to earn money to buy essential items. The men worked as labourers at a coal shop. It took us nearly 15 years before we could decently settle down at Palwal. Our survival was made more difficult by the fact that we had lost the papers of our houses in Pakistan, due to which the government did not give us settlement dues. Fleeing for safety, we were not able to bring other valuables as well.

I am in my 90s and have never felt the urge to go back. What purpose would it serve? We went through hell. I don’t want to relive any of those moments. May no one witness such tragedy.

— The writer is based in Faridabad

(As told to Renu Sud Sinha)