It was Independence Day…60^th year of the Independence of India…..a country born at the stroke of midnight…a civilization that is more than 10000 years old.

The family had gathered to watch the parade, the fanfare, the celebration, and the spectacle of being independent on the TV. It was a yearly ritual for the family. The family consisted of Bauji, the 82 year old head. He was a short man, agile, alert; he walked straight and had a perfect vision even in this age, a quality he attributed to his early nutrition. He was bald and he was ordinary.

His son Bilal was of an average height, and led an ordinary life. His wife Bela was an ordinary housewife. Their son Mintoo….he was yet to become ordinary.

The last member of this family was Ba, she had not yet joined them as she was cooking Bauji’s meal.

But before the program could start she hurriedly came in. Ba was 80 years old and she looked 90. She was short, frail and in contrast to Bauji’s straight back …she was almost parallel to the ground. She had a nasty scar on her head which was visible when one saw her closely. Her right hand dangled freely from the elbow….like it was held loosely by chance…it had deep scars. She was extremely agile for her age and in sharp contrast to her body…her eyes were shockingly young. And she was not ordinary. In that entire household she was the only one who was not ordinary.

As soon as she entered everyone was silent. Bauji, Bilal and Bela looked at one another…helplessly. Mintoo was smiling with glee. Finally Bauji decided to do as any ordinary man would…he told Ba that it would be better if she did not watch the television and the parade. She needed to rest. Though the outcome was a foregone conclusion, yet the entire kinesthetics of reaching the decision was religiously carried out.

Ba started crying, promising she will not cry, not do anything....just sit and watch the show quietly. Bauji looked for help to Bilal and like an ordinary son Bilal was busy with the remote….suddenly the numbers and buttons on the remote were reckoning him, enticing him and he had become deaf …to all external sounds. Bela decided to help Bauji and even got up only to find that Ba’s eyes had left her dumb and so she went to get biscuits and tea for the entire family.

Bauji, Bela and Bilal sat on the Diwan while ba and Mintoo sat on the carpet. With Ba sitting next to him, Mintoo found it difficult to sit vertical, and he started reclining and eventually he was lying with his head in Ba’s lap. She was unconsciously running her fingers through his hair and patting him.

The program started on the TV. Mintoo straightened up and so did Ba both were ready for the show. The anchor welcomes them… “Good morning! Today is the 60^th year of India’s independence and he starts explaining the minute to minute details …the complete itinerary of the Independence Day celebrations. Mintoo waits eagerly for the march past and other cultural events to begin. Ba hears August 1947 too. Mintoo sees the various battalions of police, army marching…they looked so smart and elegant.

Ba sees the people coming and the neat rows become a chaos……they are crowds with daggers, knives, and sticks rushing towards them. The army too is there, it is the Balouchistan Brigade …they have the guns.

Mintoo is watching the TV fascinated and Ba is watching the TV horrified. Ba’s expressions change as she is jettisoned to the August of 1947….it was an August of rumors, fear, killings. It smelt of death. Their village was just 7 miles from the so called different countyIndia. They were in a newly born nation state of Pakistan. This she never really understood…. Suddenly her language, her land, her dress all belonged to a new nation. They and their forefathers had been living in this locality not from years but from centuries, they were the landlords. It was unthinkable for them to leave their motherland. Then they knew that it was the government, the Kings, the regime that changes …not people. People stay.... in the house of their forefathers, in their land of their forefathers…and die there.

No one even dreamt that that people will be asked to leave and go…migration they called it. Actually they never had a choice….. It was forced on them……forced migration.

The drums on the TV play loud and gun shots are fired…for the salute. Ba hears the firing too. Only one family in the entire neighborhood had a gun. The mobs were coming ransacking every thing that came in their way, the temple, and the houses…the lives. They were all hiding on the terraces…..old houses had connecting terraces and verandahs and connected people too. Her five year old daughter was with her mother, two houses away. Her 10 month old son Sohan was with her Muslim maid. This maid and her husband worked for them from years. They could not have any children so they doted on Ba’s children especially Sohan. Ba had to keep Sohan with her as Sohan needed to be breast fed. She was hiding in her house with her father and mother in law, her two brothers- in- laws and the maid was inside with her son.

She heard screams…it was the deadening sound of an irate mob, then there was a fire….one shot and the sound was of silence…..stony.

Before she could even exhale easily there were multiple shots and the deadening sounds were back. They were accompanied by agonizing screams, continuous firing. They started increasing in intensity and volume.

The door was broken and there they were ….men with daggers, knives, swords, sticks ferocious eyes…. and red clothes, some were in the army uniform with wet spots….They pulled all of them out like one pulls out carrots from the ground. They asked them if they were willing to convert…to another religion….and the men being men gave the expected response. They asked Ba if she was willing to go with them. She being a woman of good repute gave the expected response. Then one of them eyed her gold jewellery, her gold chain was ruthlessly pulled from her. He tried to remove her bangles, but they resisted. Since the man was busy he knew chopping her hand was the easier option and Ba felt the pain and blood was oozing out of her elbow but her lower right arm with the bangles was still hanging on loosely, the bangles were putting up a fight. Before it could be ripped off Bauji had intervened and removed the bangles.

Then they were ordered to stand in a row. It did not take much time once the chopping started. Her father –in-law went first, then her two brother-in-laws. Before they could strike Bauji… he fainted and they thought he was dead. Ba was last in the line. They took pity on her mother-in-law and left her alive. Ba felt the smooth sword strike against her hard skull, a warm sensation took over. In a way it was a relief as she could no longer feel the pain in her hand now.

When she opened her eyes…she saw her mother in law and Bauji peering over her…..She has life in her…and she feebly said… ‘Yes I am alive! Give me water’. It took them a long time to get the water as all the urns had been smashed and broken.

They were taken to the hospital. She was one of the most severely injured, with her right hand dangling; head with a deep gash as if the viscera were craving to explode.  After the first aid was rendered and she was more or less conscious she asked for her children.  Her daughter and mother were safe but her father, brother and all else had been killed. Her son was safe too. The maid was told to bring her son. She brought him to the hospital. He was crying. With the maid’s help Ba fed Sohan, she held him close to her bosom and kissed him. Then she asked the maid to take him home where Bauji would be coming in some time. The maid reassured her and told her that she would give him cow’s milk or goat’s milk. Ba knew that the maid would handle the child as she does daily.

They were informed that there was a train leaving for India early next morning. The men of the community decided that all women and children should leave as soon as possible. There was no time for mourning or performing the last rites for those dead. Ba’s mother told Ba not to worry as she would take care of her daughter. Bauji told ba that she should also leave the next day and He and his mother would follow a day later with Sohan. Ba did not want to leave Sohan but Bauji convinced her of his logical decision…since she anyways would be unable to carry Sohan so they would bring him. The maid got Sohan in the evening in the hospital as he was restless and would not have anything…. Ba fed him, and played with him and for a long time she let him stay in her lap. When the maid was taking him he kept crying uncontrollably. He did not want to leave her. The maid took him away forcibly. Ba reached India…Karanpur border safely and waited for the others to arrive on the station where there were refugee camps set up for them. She detested the word refugee… it was a senseless word…. How can you be a refugee in your own country? It was one of the longest wait of Ba’s life. Only those who have witnessed those times know what it means. Finally she saw Bauji coming…but she did not see them carrying Sohan!!!

Where is Sohan? He was not well and we were unsure of our survival too so I asked the servant to bring him at the border today and he would also collect the money that the others owe us and get it. The servant and other workers were there. They gave Bauji the money and his cycle….which he gifted to this servant. 

Ba saw Bauji coming empty handed. Her heart sank. Her helplessness was hitting her, her rage was building and flowing through her eyes…..as she was trying to understand what Bauji was saying…. ‘Sohan was unwell so the servant did not get him but we will return soon to our house so it is okay’. Ba felt a veil of numbness cover her…..protect her. The drumming sound of betrayal however kept reverberating in her. She wanted to hug her daughter…..though daughters she was told do not make a family sons do…..and she wanted to cry in her mother’s lap…she could do that ….she was only 20. But she did not. She felt she had aged…she was 50 and all that she now saw was duty….duty…till she died…the duty to mourn, to become a living past….., a reservoir of memories of a different world. That was her and her daughter’s destiny.

Ba was howling, Sohan! Sohan! And all others Bauji, Bilal, Bela were trying to calm her down like ordinary people. Both Bela and Bilal had an exasperated look. Bauji looked tired. Mintoo however was glued to the TV trying to decipher how he could get glimpse of what they were showing Ba, she was so extraordinary.

Bauji took Ba to their room. She walked as if in a trance mumbling........... ‘You betrayed me, I have been cheated. Couldn’t you or your mother carry a 10 month old baby? He was still on my milk, I was still feeding him.’

Bauji for the umpteenth time tried to justify to himself ‘I did not know we would never be able to go back. It has never happened in history, in the world. And if I knew why would I get our old utensils and clothes and lock the new ones in trunk in our house before coming to India. I threw the keys to our house after so many years. He too was crying…I did not know we will never return….could not do the last rites of anyone, everything was gone.’ Both were talking….neither was listening.

Ba sobbed ‘my son got left behind! Did you ask the servant to get him or not? Then you were so afraid to go to Pakistan, so many went and came back and you never let me go.’

‘You have not got out of this house for 60 years, and you wanted to go there.’ Asked Bauji

‘Of course I had gone to the temple after Bilal was born’ retorted Ba

‘Yes that was because you had asked a mannat and had promised God that you would visit the temple if he gave you a son’ was Bauji’s answer.

Yes I had to thank God because after 5  miscarriages and 5 daughters he gave us a son. It must also be because of the blessings of your mother whom I served.’

‘But now you have a son ..so be happy’ Bauji tried calming Ba

‘No I would have had two sons both walking by my side’ and Ba continued wailing.

‘I should have agreed to go with those mussalman when they asked me like some others did. Those women were returned the next day safe and with their honor intact and their families were safe too. Had I done that Sohan would be with me. He was crying when he had to leave me. Sohan,,my son….you betrayed me Bauji’.

‘Ba I did not know….’ And Bauji knew it was falling on deaf ears.

Outside their room Bilal and Mintoo were overhearing all of this. Bilal had come to reason with his parents and tell them that all this was not good for his family. Mintoo had followed his father.

Ba saw Bilal and said ‘come in Sohan’ Mintoo too walked in as he was also Sohan. Bilal wiped Ba’s tears and hugged her. So what if she called him Sohan, he did not mind donning the identity of an older brother who was nowhere but was everywhere. Mintoo and his friends were in love with this woman who called all boys from 1-50 Sohan.

I know I talk of times that were naught…..

I am 20 years older than your country….

But the dilemma is that somehow it existed before me….

A name changed and I belonged to a nowhere land…

What did I and others like me do to burn in this hell

For you it is independence …the birth of a nation

For us it is partition ….the death of a nation

For you it is celebration

For us it is mourning

While you gained …we do not know what

We lost …homes, land, loved ones and our faith in humanity, in decency…

And so as you conveniently forgot us

We remind you of the sins, the crimes that happened by you,

As we deliberately fight to keep memories alive

As you celebrate independence ……. Freedom….

We too crave for it…..

Freedom from the burden of memories

We are tired of being a living memorial

It would help if you open the doors…….

The doors of denial, suppression, silence…

It is deafening the sound of death

Please unburden us, free us

From being a living memorial, a tombstone of the dead

No place in history, no record…

Of one million deaths and 16 million displaced…forced to migrate

We left our motherland where our forefathers lay buried

Not for many years but for centuries

We were told regimes change, king’s change, governments change,

People change not

Yet in this birth of two nations

Ugliness besots

The regimes stayed put

People were forced to leave….migration they called it

It was done to beget land, woman, and give into greed

It was madness….gadar….

When everything was stripped….and the true face of man was revealed

The devil descended … this place man converted into hell

Hate, bigotry, surfeit violence, insanity and evil besieged…

And from the heavens descended darkness, deceit

In these trappings was lost the glory of a nation…

And no matter how much you suppress, deny and wipe it off

The memories of those killed can never be rubbed off

Blood, sacrifice, loss, agony, and pain can never be easy to wipe…

Yes! We felt guilty to have survived

And to atone for it we have a device

Look at us again! We are not alive….

We are the tombs of those who have died…

 We are the tombs of those who have died…

All we ask now is give us a space so that we can be buried with pride

60 years is a long time to atone for sins! How long can we be tried

Can’t we all as humans mourn for all those that have died?

Till then we are a living memorial….

A tomb of all those who have been sacrificed and sacrificed and sacrificed…

And who were denied even their last rites