Postman to my father, “Sunder Singh, this is a strange postcard and I believe it is for you.”
With a two line address that just read “Sunder Singh, Gorakhpur,” it could only be a divine intervention that the postcard sent from Rawalpindi (Pakistan), found it’s way to my father in Gorakhpur (India).
In a crippled handwriting, it’s content was nothing else but an address of a Christian Missionary base in Rawalpindi, followed by the name “Hari Singh.” Just like the concise address, it’s content didn’t say much.
This was a moment of joy that Sunder Singh could not express any better but by letting the tsunami of tears roll down his cheeks. He rushed to the thatched hut at a short distance from his home. It was the sultry summer of 1949 and he was thankful to God that in the last two years, life was slowly limping back to normal for his siblings, who had moved to the city of Gorakhpur (Uttar Pradesh, India). In the pogrom conducted against non-Muslims in the city of Muzaffarabad (now in Pakistan Kashmir), his siblings had lost everything.
Wealth comes and goes but can life be replaced?
No mother can part with her children but when Pashtun tribals from Waziristan and adjoining areas entered Kashmir with an objective to cleanse the non-Muslim population and thereby occupy the region for the newly formed Pakistan, Sunder Singh’s sister was then in Muzaffarabad. The attackers parted women from men and children from women. The intent was to take into custody the young girls and shoot the adult males. Helpless, she had no clue what happened to her two boys, as much as they about their mother.
Sunder Singh pushed the door open and entered his sister’s hut, “Bhen (sister), I think the children are alive!”
My father, a goldsmith by profession from the region of Muzaffarabad, had left for Gorakhpur in 1945 to explore new business opportunities associated with supply of gold jewelery to the Gurkhas of British India army. The Gurkhas from Nepal would arrive at Gurkha Regiment Depot to collect their pension and this presented an opportunity as many would convert cash into gold, before heading back to their villages. In the two years prior to partition of India, Sunder Singh was busy setting up a business in Gorakhpur and his presence in a distant land became the reason why his siblings chose this city for migration.
Photo : Sunder Singh in Nepal.
In the religion based partition of August 1947, Pakistan was formed with Islamic foundation, while India maintained an all inclusive religious position. It triggered violence across communities on both sides of the dividing line. The outcome was that Sikhs & Hindus got cleansed from West Punjab and the now Pakistan Administered Kashmir.
Kashmir was not included in the state of Pakistan as the option to join or remain independent was left for the ruler, Hari Singh. While he delayed the decision, in mid October 1947, Pashtun tribals from Waziristan & Khyber region attacked Kashmir, in order to force it to join Pakistan. On 21st & 22 October, over 300 male Sikhs from the surrounding valleys were rounded up at Ranbir Singh bridge (also called DUMEL bridge as the rivers Jhelum and Neelum/ Kishenganga rivers join close to it) in Muzaffarabad and shot by the tribals at a point blank range.
Photo : The ill-fated Dumel bridge, where over 300 Sikhs were shot at point blank range by the invading Pashtun tribals.
Sunder Singh was helpless, stranded in Gorakhpur but it was also a blessing in disguise for his siblings, who saving their lives headed from Muzaffarabad to Baramulla and thereon to the valley of Srinagar.
Photo : After the massacre, the family headed from Muzaffarabad to Srinagar.
In the months that followed, Sunder Singh was in turmoil, leaving the business activities behind he left for Delhi in hope to somehow reunite with his family. For three months he spent day and night at the Delhi Airport, sending messages through any defence personnel traveling to Srinagar. Luck would have it that one army man was able to locate his brother, Amar Singh and got back a message for Sunder Singh. My father spent his resources in reuniting the family by bringing them to Delhi. It was in December of 1947 an army Dakota plane carrying some refugees landed in Delhi and it included my father’s siblings.
This was a moment to celebrate but there was also an intolerable pain as one of his sister did not know what may have happened to her two boys, aged less than 10 years.
The two lads, Arjan Singh and Hari Singh, on being caught by the tribals were put through mental and physical humiliation. For Sikhs, keeping unshorn hair is the most sacred requirement and the tribals first action was to deprive them of this visible sign of their faith. For days they lived in fear of the unknown and being taken away from their loved ones. Finally, when the 1st Sikh regiment of the Indian army advanced and pushed the tribals back, they abandoned the children and left with looted wealth.
A Christian missionary outfit from Rawalpindi reached Muzzafarabad in November 1947 and took custody of the two destitute boys.
Time does not stop for anyone. Sunder Singh stabilized his uprooted brothers and sisters in Gorakhpur, helping them start their life from scratch but was always concerned about the well being of his sister who was under emotional pain of separation.
Strange are God’s ways for whom he desires to save. Even in a whirlpool, he leaves a twig to hold. As a young boy of around 7 years, Hari Singh had heard his mother often say that his Mama (Uncle), Sunder Singh has gone to Gorakhpur. Somehow in October 1949, Hari Singh managed to source a postcard and sent it by addressing to “Sunder Singh, Gorakhpur “, mentioning the address of the Rawalpindi Christian missionary.
The postcard did reach the hands of my father. This could only happen with divine intervention.
The challenge now was that the borders of the two nations were sealed. Travel to Rawalpindi to rescue the children was impossible. Sunder Singh headed to Delhi to leverage political strings. He met with Baldev Singh, the first Defence Minister of India, requesting his intervention.
Files moved across the borders and a few months later, the children were united with their mother.
Though I was born in the year 1966, nineteen years after partition but I grew up amongst such real lifetime stories. With passage of time the footprints have only grown bigger and were demanding a closure.
I grew up delving into the history of my community and realized that 80% of the Sikh heritage lies in the area that now falls in Pakistan, and post partition it is lost forever.
It is with this backdrop, I had told myself that once in my lifetime, I will travel freely in Pakistan. Our next generation may not be able to associate closely with the events of partition but at least for me, the entire being desired to feel the energy of our ancestors.
In October 2014, at the age of 48 years, I was finally able to make the trip. In a backpacking style I traveled for 30 days, exploring the Sikh heritage that now lies in dilapidated condition across remote areas, unprotected and soon to become extinct. I visited the non-functional Gurudwaras in villages, forts, schools and more importantly met people who once had a Sikh lineage but had to convert their faith in order to survive.
Though I travelled extensively across Punjab, Khaibar and Pakistan Administered Kashmir but I knew the attraction of the trip was a visit to Muzaffarabad, the place where our paternal family hailed from. Driving from Abbottabad, I entered Pakistan Administered Kashmir, and the first glance of the city of Muzaffarabad from the top of the hill, peaked my emotions to a level that I had to ask the driver to halt the car. As I stood by the road, looking into the vast expanse of the valley, the meandering Jhelum river making a U-turn, I was asking myself, “is this the expanse of the valley that my father used to describe. He used to describe a small Shangri-La (a heavenly valley) but this is just like any other modern city.” Seeing the development it didn’t resonate with the image that I was carrying of the valley in my memory, but time has neither stopped. It is 67 years since partition and the valley has naturally expanded.
Photo : A distant view of the Muzaffarabad valley.
Muzaffarabad is located on the banks of Jhelum and Neelum (Kishanganga) rivers. It is bordered by Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa in the west, by the Kupwara and Baramulla districts of Indian state of Jammu & Kashmir in the east, and the Neelum district of Pakistan Admnistered Kashmir.
Guru Hargobind, the 6th Guru had visited the valley and many residents had thereafter adopted Sikhism. Prior to partition the valley of Muzaffarabad and adjoining areas of Balakot and Ramkot consisted of a large Sikh population. The historical Gurudwara in the memory of Chatti Pathshahi (Guru Hargobind’s visit) used to be a fulcrum where the Sikh population of the valley would come together. Today, the Gurudwara premise is converted into a Police station and a CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) establishment. The north wall of the Gurudwara building is all that remains of the main structure as it has been reconstructed into the new establishment building. The resident hall and the kitchen areas of the Gurudwara area are though surviving and being used as residence.
Photo : Remains of Chatti Pathshahi Gurudwara – North face wall.
Photo : Kitchen of Chatti Pathshahi Gurudwara.
Photo : Residential block of Chatti Pathshahi Gurudwara.
As we were parking the car in the market, a man approached asking in Punjabi, “Sardar Ji, what brings you to Muzaffarabad?”
We struck a conversation and he shared that he belonged to a nearby village. He had heard stories from his parents about the vibrant Sikh community that had existed in this region, scattered across remote villages. He offered to take me to his village where he can point to the houses which once belonged to the Sikhs and are now occupied by the local Muslim community. He shared an interesting observation that many Sikhs leaving Muzaffarabad had buried their valuables under the cooking area of the kitchen or in the walls. So years after 1947 migration, the occupiers of residences would continue to dig the kitchen area and break the walls in search of valuables and many did succeed. Going to his village would have required about 4 hours and therefore I politely requested to be excused.
At the Dumel bridge (Ranbir Singh bridge), the site with which many stories are associated with our extended family, we have grown up hearing, I became highly emotional. My mother-in-law, Satwant Kaur, who stays in Dehradun had also lost both her parents in the target Sikh killings conducted on this bridge by the attackers.
At the bridge, I took the stairs and headed down to the river bank, standing in silence, hearing the gushing water.
Photo : Dumel bridge – a view from underneath.
A stone slab with the year 1885 indicates this bridge has been standing for 130 years. It is named after the Dogra King, Ranbir Singh of Jammu & Kashmir state.
Photo : Dumel bridge – built in 1885.
The structure of the bridge and the existence of a Baradari (structure with twelve gates) at the lower section, with nearly extinct ghat structures indicates the prominence of this place for the Hindu community of the region, akin to the ghats of Varanasi. This bridge is the only footprint of the secular civilization that once co-existed.
Photo : The Ranbir Singh bridge Baradari (twelve gated structure) and the ghats.
When I was planning for the Pakistan trip, a strong desire had manifested my being that I need to carry back the soil of Muzaffarabad from under this bridge and preserve it in a sealed bottle to pass on to next generation as a reminder of the holocaust. However as I stood here, I seemed to have a numb feeling. The valley did not resonate with the picture that I had created for myself. The people were not approachable, primarily because of my own perception that as a lone Sikh, I may be under risk. The bridge gave me a creepy sense of the past.
Suddenly, I decided I didn’t want to spend a minute more in Muzaffarabad. Hurriedly I climbed the stairs, got into the car and we were off to Murree in Punjab. I did not have any more desire to explore the valley and neither to carry back any soil.
The closure I had been seeking in my mind happened with the acceptance that things have changed and I need to move on in life.
Comments(95)
Shahid says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:38 amThanks to share some good and some bad happens but you need brother change in text. 1 Gurdwara Sahib Chhaivien Patshahi Building destroyed by earth quick 60% you should mention in details.
Amardeep Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 8:29 amThanks for pointing that the Gurudwara complex, which is being used as a Police station after partition, was damaged extensively in the Muzaffarabad earthquake.
Pradeep K Sharma says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:49 amVery vividly written !
kunwar yuvraj says:
January 15, 2015 at 1:13 amA story full of sentiments … Just loved it … Although it was a difficult time for everyone ,no matter Sikh or Muslim , indian or pakistani … It is very difficult for a person to leave his native land and move to a new place and then starting again from scratch leaving everything behind by just moving on in life.
Aditya Madhok says:
January 15, 2015 at 1:40 amyou’re blessed Amardeep to have visited the land of your forefathers and get the closure you seek. Very well written article detailing your family’s passage to India. Your travelogue can possibly be expanded to include more of your experiences in Pakistan and published in other media as well. All the very best.
Dr.Sunanda Kumar says:
January 15, 2015 at 1:50 amA very poignant true story vividly written. Could feel the underneath emotions and how a partition that has affected millions of people on both sides.
Baljinder Singh Bajaj says:
January 15, 2015 at 2:37 amThanks for sharing this Amardeep. It was with a heavy heart I read this. It was brave if you to travel around so much and to seek these answers. I think there is so much more to the story and more pictures as one other comments suggested.
1947 is a dark time for us all. My grandparents and my father lived Pakistan side and were landowners with livestock. It was all left behind. My father did the infamous walk where both communities were crossing by foot. They eventually settled in Jalandar where it didn’t smell so bad from all the death. Sometimes I can’t believe the suffering that has been forced upon the Sikhs, but we have endured. Long may we continue.
Mustafa says:
January 15, 2015 at 3:09 amAmar..
.you have written from your heart.
your pics speak and your words show.
It pains
just like it did when I watched “milka singh”.
I’m glad you didn’t carry the soil in the bottle.
It might have weighed a few tonnes,
now and forever.
and the closure came in a realisation,
not in a bottle.
now,turn to the elements again,
and bring us ethereal pictures.
Ratan says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:30 amHey Ranger, great going. Your skills at photography are par excellence!! Cheers
Harpreet Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:31 amsomehow , my closure happened as soon the neighbours released the accused for 26/11 immediately after the peshawar episode … got an immediate disconnect after longing to visit atleast once
Baba Ji says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:32 amMain sab kuj naal ho kay daikhia or sunia dill we roia taa Akhian we roian houn kuj we nai ho sakda Rab sohna hi insan day dukh ghat kar sakda aay insan ta insan nu dukh dain day sewa hor kuj nai karda see karda aay tay karda raway ga . Aoss day Rang Niralay aoss dian aao hi janay sab payar walay jee paida kiun nai keetay kaday kaday Rab nu kallay beh kay pouchda wan sohnia Raba Akhi kiun .Banda Banday da Daru Banda Banday da Maru
Amrita Sehdave says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:33 amBeautifully summerized and very well written
Kishore says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:34 amHistory drew a line. the drawing followed by deaths , pains, tears , violence ,uprooting and what not. It was a ‘ sin ‘ committed . Both sides of this subcontinent have to pay the price for many more years to come. God’s world was violated . Divine justice will not allow Peace in this region until the term to live in hell is over. The people of the both the sides ” we” have to live and nourish only hate and suspicion for each other. We are caged miserably for our sin.
Harmeet Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:34 amVery well captured
Sukhbir Sahni says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:35 amVery touching
Harbans Khakh says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:36 amAcceptance of the reality of change does free man from shackles of the sorrowful past…
Babu Eluru says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:37 amLet there be love.
Your roots exist in your photographs,
In every album but this..
This was painful.
give peace a chance.
Saswata Sanyal says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:38 amvery touching
Kulveer Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:39 amThe pathos and the pain in your words and in your pictures is overwhelming. The story of your family stuns in its cruelty. But the fact that this cruel fate is shared by millions, and all of them seek closure is a question that is left unanswered by fate
Gurinder Jit Sinh Hara says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:40 amDear Amardeep I have seen the area very closely from Indian side of Kishenganga…. The penury that area has gone into is due to design by the other side. Your pain is unfathomable!!!
Baljinder Bajaj says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:40 amThanks for sharing this Amardeep. It was with a heavy heart I read this. It was brave of you to travel around so much and to seek these answers. I think there is so much more to the story and more pictures as one other comment suggested.
1947 is a dark time for us all. My grandparents and my father lived Pakistan side and were landowners with livestock. It was all left behind. My father did the infamous walk where both communities were crossing by foot. They eventually settled in Jalandar where it didn’t smell so bad from all the death. Sometimes I can’t believe the suffering that has been forced upon the Sikhs, but we have endured. Long may we continue.
Yadvendra Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:42 amLoved the story, beautifully written with so much of passion. Why don’t you think of expanding it into a book?
Himadri Banerjee, University of Kolkata says:
January 16, 2015 at 5:50 pmI am grateful to read these lines and see these photographs. Possibly I would never meet its author nor Sunder Singh ji of Nepal. But for the last few months I have been reading the history of the Sikhs of Muzaffarbad, Mirpur, Punch and their sudden uprooting in 1947 and their subsequent re-settlement in different parts of India- from Shillong,Punjab to Uttrakhand and many other places. I could feel how the gurdwara of the sixth Guru and other sacred places like Danna were vandalized/destroyed, but their memories are never lost, but gone deep into hearts of these 60 plus people’ heart, otherwise they would not have responded with so much emotion and speed.
But how can I meet the author? May I have the right of knowing more about the place through email or telephone because for the last few months I have been reading about the history of the Muzaffarabadi Sikhs ( sorry for using this term). But they have possibly their some distinct style of living,food, dialect, rituals which they have carried to their new home in Patiala, Delhi, Jammu, Rajasthan and other places.
Himadri Banerjee, Kolkata
Jagmeet Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:52 amYou should be a writer, apart from a photographer, Amardeep–very touching account !
Kabir says:
January 15, 2015 at 5:30 amVery well written. One of course cannot say anything to take away the pain of personal narratives. However, one simply has to point out that the “Other” has many of the same painful stories in reverse. My own ancestry is from the Valley (some generations before Partition) and I cannot see any of those places. More immediately, my ancestors left Amritsar and Agra in 1947 and lost everything. So please be even-handed and acknowledge Muslim losses as well.
Finally, please also acknowledge the Government of Pakistan’s efforts to protect Sikh heritage in Nankana Sahab. Many Sikhs come to Pakistan annually to see their religious places. So all is not lost.
Amardeep Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 8:17 amThanks Kabir for reading and leaving the comment.
This narrative of Muzaffarabad is about the impact on my family and is out of scope to cover what happened elsewhere. Having said that, I have mentioned clearly that “It triggered violence across communities on both sides of the dividing line.” So I am acknowledging the killings happened on both sides of the line.
Whatever I have observed, indeed I will share as is. So when I write about Nankana, I will share the upkeep efforts but at the same time the thousands of dilapidated places across the country will also be talked about.
Mantosh Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 7:24 amAmardeep,
Excellent feature
Thank you for making the effort to record this for posterity. We collectively need to think about what we can do to save our history.
Simon Gorwara says:
January 15, 2015 at 9:34 amGreat story, Amardeep. My ancestors had a similar experience with the tragic and brutal 1947 partition, so naturally your story resonated with me – and I’m sure with many of our classmates. Glad you have some closure.
Gorwara
Ajay Tripathi says:
January 15, 2015 at 11:26 amAmardeep,
Excellent narration of experience in very simple words. It’s very touching. But the way you have written, it gives a feeling that there is much more to hear and see from you. I want to know more about Muzaffarabad through your eyes.
Harpreet Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 11:39 amNice article. Very moving.
Vijit Malik says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:00 pmBeautifully written Amardeep! Admire your deep resolve in tracing your roots. A very touching story that I’m sure resonates with a number of families that had to endure the holocaust of partition…..cheers Vijit
Sorabh Jain says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:01 pmAmardeep you’re good storyteller man!
Gurjeet Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:03 pmDear Amardeep
thanks for letting me smell my land my mother would love to see it
Gurjeet
Guraman Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:04 pmThis is amazing
Manpreet Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:05 pmAbsolutely class, poignant tacts of 1947 …. a tear jerker for me since may parents suffered
Guddi Kapoor says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:06 pmV NICE Plice
Mrignain says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:07 pmmy forefather’s native place. i still remember as a kid hearing stories of muzfrabad from my father s, balwant singh and granfather s, sant singh kukal
Dhruv Goyal says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:19 pmGood stuff. I remember the Gorakpur and jeweler stuff from the Welham days my friend. Let us meet up next time you are around delhi / Dehra Dun.
Have a fantastic day
Harpreet Singh says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:23 pmRead the entire post beautifully written , full of emotions !!
Amarpal Matharu says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:55 pmAmardeep, You are an amazing writer and photographer! I wish you could find a way to pursue your passion full time. I am so touched by your family’s history and the way you have narrated it! I grew up hearing stories about the places in Pakistan, where my Mother had lived with her family. I wanted to take my Mother to Lahore and Rawalpindi. I will now have to make the trip at some point without her. I hope we are all able to find some closure during our lifetime.
Baba Ji says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:02 pmYou are welcome sir and if you want any information about Punjab village on track Lahore to Rawalpindi i can help i am doing work on Historical places specially Non Muslim Heritage in Punjab and North West Punjab .If you like then ask about me from Veer Amardeep Singh Ji .
Mirza Baig says:
January 15, 2015 at 12:59 pmIn search of roots, “yahni apni jaran di talash, apney purkhan di jagah, apni mitti di khich lay key aaee tusan nu.”
Jaspal Sehdave says:
January 15, 2015 at 1:48 pmMy grandparents were uprooted from Abbotabad during the partition and people from both sides suffered unimaginable losses in the name of religion and political gains of a couple of power hungry politicians that were happy with the divide and carnage as long as they could sit on the Gaddi.
I could walk down those pictures with your narration – thank you for sharing!
Hari Menon says:
January 15, 2015 at 3:25 pmBeautifully expressed. And kudos for moving on. It is so tough to do.
Bambi Bakshi says:
January 15, 2015 at 3:28 pmI cant imagine what a thrill and how many goose bumps and butterflies you felt in your stomach
Rajan Puri says:
January 15, 2015 at 3:30 pmDear Amardeep, Such tragic days. Such beautiful words. Regards
Rajan Puri
Amar Abrol says:
January 15, 2015 at 3:46 pmMust Read. A griping real life tale across borders and generations of closure and moving on. Very touching Amardeep.
Gurmeet Singh Ranghar says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:24 pmDear Amardeep,
I am glad you could draw closure for our elders. I lived the moments with you as you described the footprints. Time and tide wait for none, but in our hearts we youngsters have carried the desire to be with our ‘mitti’ burns strong.
As we all have moving on to find new homes in a nomadic fashion, from Kashmir to Gorakhpur and moving on beyond our nursery, I feel we have turned truly global. We connect the past with our future, the dotted lines filling the landscape.
Thanks for the visit through your eyes.
Ashim Choudhary says:
January 15, 2015 at 4:40 pmVery touching…write more.
Harmet Kaur says:
January 15, 2015 at 5:56 pmSpeechless , emotional remembering home
adarsh goindi says:
January 15, 2015 at 6:37 pmIt’s heart touching, I too have grown up listening to all such stories n each time gives me goosebumps……ur writeup n pictures have touched me n many more like us, in a way, difficult to explain…..the pictures along with the literature kind of feel scary n would never ever want anyone to go thru it……our Grand dads being real brothers have been through the ordeal together n I have learnt some more about it through ur work…..am glad u could disconnect, guess its the best way….thanks again for such indepth insight n a journey into past ….our roots.
Shalini Mohan says:
January 15, 2015 at 7:35 pmAmardeep, that’s exactly what my dad did…the ghosts of the past had been chasing him ever since partition. He, then went to Shekhupura( Pakistan) located their kothi, met its present residents, who coincidentally are, who’s kothi we live now at Jalandhar!
Avanish Mishra says:
January 15, 2015 at 8:59 pmFor those whose family was impacted by 1947, or those just interested in history. Worth a read.
Indermeet Sial says:
January 15, 2015 at 8:59 pmAmardeep, through your journey, pictures and words, you have helped bring closure to others like you. Thanks!
Shailindra Singh Kaushik says:
January 15, 2015 at 9:25 pmMy father along with us (we were 5 siblings) went through a similar harrowing experience in 1947. A very close friend Mr. Ranbir Singh Seehra helped me trace my roots in Shiekhupura on 03 Jan 2014. I am also planning to put my experience in writing. In this regard anyone can please help. I do want to share the everlasting agony and pain of partition.
Meenu Kochhar says:
January 15, 2015 at 10:04 pmThanks Amar for penning down a beautiful, detailed and pictureous details of your visit. I had goosebumps as I was reading the article. We grew up listening to the horror stories from our Grand Parents and Parents about how they moved to Gorakhpur after the partition. Then came the wars that I remember vividly. As a kid we had to stay inside the house, cover the window glass with the newspaper or the brown paper, no lights on just the candles. Hearing my Dad and now my Husband talk about visiting their home in Pakistan. I didn’t understand then but I do now. Kudos to you for taking the trip which I am sure helped you to move on. Keep traveling and showing us the world form your eyes. The pictures are wonerful. Thanks again Amar 🙂
Harindar Singh Bedi says:
January 15, 2015 at 10:21 pmDear Amardeep,
A very interesting travelogue. The photography too is excellent.
I can well imagine your pain and anguish on this ‘pilgrimage’. However, as you yourself have written, you have to move on in life.
It is sad to see the state of the Gurdwara Chheveen Paatshahi. Being a historical gurdwara it should have been taken care of by the Pakistan Govt. just as it is doing in the case of Nankana Sahib and other Sikh shrines in Lahore and elsewhere. I hope the SGPC can be made to take a note of this.
Geetali says:
January 16, 2015 at 12:16 amAs always, you write with elegance and honesty. This piece was so moving. I have only heard stories of Partition, my family did not experience it personally. Yet, each story makes one sad for the terrible loss of life, and more than that, of innocence, of a way of life that is gone forever.
Thank you for sharing your story. It takes rare courage to speak the truth about what we seek, and how we feel when we find it.
Thank you for your lovely images.
Atul Jain says:
January 16, 2015 at 8:02 amDear Amardeep,
Very well told true happening which quite a few have of us have heard from our parents who have migrated from now Pakistan.
Imagine the courage of our parents – overcoming loss of loved ones, livelihood, roof etc and starting life all over again to bring us up as they did.
Hats off to u for travelling to Pakistan.
Regards,
Atul
Aditya Goenka says:
January 16, 2015 at 8:05 amVery emotional journey.
Amitabh Malhotra says:
January 16, 2015 at 8:06 amADS, gifted in many ways…
Kulwant Kanta Singh says:
January 16, 2015 at 8:08 amThe pain of losing free access to Nankana Sahib and all other Sikh historical-religious sites is still burning just as fiercely 60 years after partition. Our heritage there is turning to dust. Can you share some stories on the Sikhs who converted to Islam to stay in Pakistan please?
Hamid Khawaja says:
January 16, 2015 at 2:29 pmWhat happened was indeed very tragic. Both sides displayed human and inhuman behaviour and both sides blame each other. It is time to move on. The next generation must work for a better tomorrow like the nations of Europe have done. Our generation has to be better than the partition generation. Let’s work on that.
Daljit Kaur Bains says:
January 16, 2015 at 3:56 pmI don’t think I will ever go, but thanks to Amardeep photography I can imagine how Sikhs lived on the other side of the border. He has bought history to us.
Amardeep Singh says:
January 16, 2015 at 5:24 pmThe moment I heard that you were going to explore Pakistan, I always wondered how would it go.. what would you see.. how would you feel, and after going through the above waited article.. its like a flashback in my mind.. listening to the stories from my Grandma.. The pain they felt the miseries they have been through.. The celebrations of reunion, The sentiments were all visible…
I salute your gut to do so..
and most of all I salute all the oldies … For being so strong physically and mentally.. They will always be praised and remembered in the stories of partition..
Himadri Banerjee, University of Kolkata says:
January 16, 2015 at 6:54 pmI am grateful to read these lines and see these photographs. Possibly I would never meet its author nor Sunder Singh ji of Nepal. But for the last few months I have been reading the history of the Sikhs of Muzaffarbad, Mirpur, Punch and their sudden uprooting in 1947 and their subsequent re-settlement in different parts of India- from Shillong,Punjab to Uttrakhand and many other places. I could feel how the gurdwara of the sixth Guru and other sacred places like Danna were vandalized/destroyed, but their memories are never lost, but gone deep into hearts of these 60 plus people’ heart, otherwise they would not have responded with so much emotion and speed.
But how can I meet the author? May I have the right of knowing more about the place through email or telephone because for the last few months I have been reading about the history of the Muzaffarabadi Sikhs ( sorry for using this term). But they have possibly their some distinct style of living,food, dialect, rituals which they have carried to their new home in Patiala, Delhi, Jammu, Rajasthan and other places.
Himadri Banerjee, Kolkata
Hammad says:
January 16, 2015 at 9:31 pmAmardeep g, sukhi raho. very well written. balance between emotion and realization is great in your writing.
Baljit Sidhu says:
January 16, 2015 at 10:50 pmThis is most touching story of the struggles that our community had to endure. Even though my family always lived around Mukatsar area and did not have to migrate but I can feel the pain of those who suffered. Thank you brother,for sharing this painful past with us. May Waheguru bless you with energy and strength to continue your mission.
Warm regards
Baljit
Jaspreet says:
January 16, 2015 at 11:05 pmComment: Very well written Veerji, gives me nostalgia from the stories I heard about Rawalpindi from my grandfather, and the partition.
Masood Akhtar says:
January 16, 2015 at 11:06 pmAmardeep Bhai great sentimental article. I didn’t know that you were so much attached with Muzzarabad. Even the story was so moving that I forgot were I was sitting and even slightly burn my foot in front of heater. I was completely buried in the story. Amardeep Bhai if you can please put up these stories in 1947 Partition Archive Website. I think this is best forum to preserve the memories of our shared history.
Hamid Khawaja says:
January 17, 2015 at 11:12 amListen to this story; http://media.blubrry.com/radioopensource/p/www.brown.edu/Departments/Watson_Institute/Open_Source/RadioOpenSource-Salman_Rashid.mp3
Amardeep Singh says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:46 pmThanks Hamid.
I have personally met Salman in Lahore and had dinner together. Have heard the story from him personally. It was not a partition of India but the partition of Punjab. Stories like these happened on both sides and it was a very sad event in the history of Punjab.
Thanks for sharing.
Amardeep Singh
Neelo Fazal Tiwana says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:19 pmYadgar
Arjit Mahal says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:20 pmDear Amardeep: This is a remarkable story of human suffering and drama that plays out in Nature. You have done a great job to capture history…the link which shows who we are and whence we came. Best wishes to you. Keep up this amazing work.
Moninder Singh Modgil says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:21 pmVery poigant Amardeep.
Jaspreet says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:21 pmVery well written Veerji, gives me nostalgia from the stories I heard about Rawalpindi from my grandfather, and the partition.
Baljit Sidhu says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:22 pmAmardeep
This is most touching story of the struggles that our community had to endure. Even though my family always lived around Mukatsar area and did not have to migrate but I can feel the pain of those who suffered. Thank you brother,for sharing this painful past with us. May Waheguru bless you with energy and strength to continue your mission.
Warm regards
Baljit
Hardev Thethy says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:26 pmA very moving account.
PRabhdeep Singh Sudan says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:27 pmMy maternal side belonged to the same place. They came to kashmir then reached jammu and got settled there.
Rajinder Sharad says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:28 pmwe hail from this area before partition, it was very touching to read what happened in 1947. A really very good efforts of sh Amardeep Singh to highlight the events.
Jagjit Singh Joura says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:28 pmA moving true story well narrated reminds us of the sad happenings during partition of India. The concluding lines are a very practical approach we need to adopt. All concerned should learn appropriate lessons from it.
Hutch Singh says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:29 pmMy heart bleeds for our dear Sikh brothers alive and dead who had to see these days. And my mind numb to the cruelty of the Muslims who perpetrated such a rape on my people and its culture and religion. May such devils never ever get peace till they right the wrongs of our Gurus and our civilisation. Salutations to the writer. We need more like you. Thanks for such pieces.
Karanjit Gill says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:30 pmPashtun tribals, are increasingly conservative and backward. Criminal and War minded. What they did, it not a surprise they paid back for it/are paying for it. What is Pak Kashmir is one of the most backward regions in Pak. Very limited education/progress. Providence does pay back.
Ajit Chawla says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:31 pmpainful
Brijinder Singh Bhatia says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:32 pmVery sad.
vininder Kaur says:
January 17, 2015 at 12:44 pmI am ever so grateful to my dear husband to have taken upon the journey to a foreign land which was once our land. His travel has given a closure to known, unknown direct and in direct victims of Muzzafarabad massacre. My mother at the tender age of 2 lost her biological parents a brother and many immediate family members to this inhumane madness. Hatred is the cause of all pain and love is the healer of all pain. My mother blossomed to be a beautiful human being full of love and compassion. I have marveled at her genuine and enormous heart, she has never expressed anger or animosity towards the killers of her family . I guess hatred never surfaced because she was nurtured with the unconditional love of her paternal grand mother (Roop Kaur), her post partition parents S Rawail Singh (her phuphraji), Sdn Uttam Kaur (her bhua), her six siblings from them – Gurcharan Singh , Kawaljeet Singh, Gurmeet Singh, Bhupinder Kaur, Jaspal Kaur and biological brother late S Avtar singh Chandan (an eye witness to the massacre, who till his death reminisced and yearned to visit his motherland Muzaffarabad). Our 10th Guru says “Jin prem kiya tin hi Prabh payo” meaning – “One who has found love, has obtained the Almighty”. My grandparents, Rawail Singh and Uttam Kaur found their God in the unconditional love for my mother and I found my God in them. While I am writing, I am unable to contain my tears as my heart is filled with gratitude to the Almighty for blessing us with an amazing family who has showered us with unconditional love – which is above any relation, religion, caste and so on .
Salman Rashid says:
January 17, 2015 at 1:11 pmIncredible story, Amardeep. And images to match. Or are the images better. Can’t decide which is tops: story or images.
Gurpal Singh Kalra says:
January 17, 2015 at 1:54 pmVery well written.
R Kaurr Dhesi says:
January 17, 2015 at 4:26 pmA very personal poignant account.
Vijay Kulkarni says:
January 17, 2015 at 4:56 pmtouching
Jatendra Virk says:
January 17, 2015 at 4:57 pmtrue majority of punjabi people suffered heavily directly or indirectly but it was beyond their control as it could be worse and we have to move on this is life….i suppose.
Upinder KAur says:
January 17, 2015 at 9:35 pmA very touching post. I could just feel your emotions as I was reading it. The photograph of the bridge and the incident associated with it sent shivers down my spine.
Amazing post!
Avinash Kaur says:
January 18, 2015 at 1:40 pmWe are proud of our parents, who stood on their feet after a long struggle. I’m proud of Sunder taya ji who saved the lives of many of his relatives. After reading your note, I don’t have words to describe my feelings. Thinking of the situations that our parents have faced, tears rolled down my eyes. But I’m glad that due to their efforts, we’re able to lead our lives peacefully. Thanks a lot for sharing it…!!
balraj nijhon says:
January 19, 2015 at 11:30 amthe story is the story of many hindu and sikh families who , before 1947, called Muzaffarabad home. The Nijhon/ Nijhawan family was a very prominent family of Muzaffarabad. I grew up listening to the wonderful stories of how the life used to be for many generations before 1947 and how , in a matters of hours, it became a story of ultimate loss and carnage. The Nijhon clan lost 24 members in a matter of three days. About forty five years back it became possible to travel back to Muzzafrabad and some prominent members of the muslim community from Muzzafrabad approached my father, shri Melaram Nijhon , who was the patriarch of the family –then living in Srinagar, Kashmir , to visit his ancestral home. My father politely refused the offer. He said that he had barely survived the inflictions of that holocaust and was not sure if he could survive reopening of the deep wounds. Few years back I started my dream project of writing down an account of the history of Nijhon clan with my father as the central figure and Muzzafrabad as the central place. The half completed manuscript was lost in a fire. I mourned over this loss—but then it occurred to me that perhaps it was not meant to be and I don’t have to keep looking back to somehow capture my border identity. The examples of life of my father provided the answer—. Our true identity lies within us. It is that inner place that we need to find–. Muzzarabad figures prominently in the story of my ancestors. However , I too have lost the desire to go/be there. Thanks for the wonderful account of your experience Amardeep. God bless.
Ashish Chatterjee says:
January 20, 2015 at 8:09 pmA wonderful tale well told with equally captivating pictures conveying the present dereliction of the majestic past.