Wg Cdr (retd) Dinesh Kumar was 10 when he and his family left Pakistan on August 14 and reached India on her first Independence Day. He reminisces about his childhood in Pakistan, events that led to the exodus and the journey on the last train to India.

Ramzan and Diwali My memories of childhood in Pakistan were of communal harmony.I was born to Punjabi parents in Multan, Pakistan, on February 17, 1937. My three siblings and I went to a madrasa, my older brother was at a missionary school in Dehradun. Childhood was fun times in school, sitting next to my best friend Rehman.

I would carry a chair for my teacher to watch the Ram Lila play. During Ramzan, my mother never cooked because our neighbours would send us biryani. On Diwali, we gave them sweets and savouries.

The first sign It was Holi in March 1947. The elders spoke about how Jinnah had asked for a separate Pakistan. Usually, everybody would play with coloured water.

But that March, a few unruly elements started attacking Hindu families on the streets and in their homes. They said our property was now theirs. My father’s friend wired the doorway so anybody trying to break in would be electrocuted. We’d splash them with hot water mixed with chilli powder from our terraces.

My father worked for the Railways and was given a `curfew pass’ so we could go out and buy groceries whenever curfew was relaxed. Things were bad on the oth er side of the border too, and Muslim fam ilies began leaving India. We were asked whether we wanted to leave or stay. It was a very hard decision for my parents to leave Multan.

Across the border at midnight The exodus had started, and trains from either side of the border were overloaded with `refugees’. Since my father was in the Railways, our family got a compartment.

We shared it with a Muslim family mov, ing to India. Nobody spoke. Fear and un certainty was palpable.

We boarded the train around 11am on August 14 and reached Karachi at 8pm. As the train started moving, many tried to get in but were either pushed off or fell off. A boulder crashed into our bogie, we saw houses razed to the ground and thick plumes of smoke. An entire train was in flames, probably bombed by an aircraft.

We huddled together.

Sometime in the middle of the night, my father whispered, “I think we’ve crossed the border.” The Muslim family now cowered in fear. Why did we have to divide?

I was too young, so it didn’t affect me the way it did my parents. Fortunately, my father had a job. I joined the National Defence Academy at 15, and later the Indian Air Force. My broth er joined the Indian Army. At 77, I’m a counsellor and marathoner. I’ve made Bangalore home for more than 40 years.

As neighbours, we will continue to fight.

But why did we have to divide? This will be the regret of all those who’ve gone through Partition. NO TIME FOR GOODBYE I t’s still vivid in my mind. My father came home one day and said many Hindu families were leaving and we should too. The last train was leaving from Lahore to Ludhiana in Indian Punjab on August 14, when Pakistan would be declared an independent country.

We had to board the train to Lahore, and had time to pack just a small bag with a few clothes and essentials. My mother took some jewellery. We took the tonga to the railway station, leaving behind our house, property, family photographs, heirlooms, legal documents, birth certificates… to start a new life in a new country.

(Wg Cdr (rtd) Dinesh Kumar lives with his wife in Rajajinagar. His two sons and grandkids live in Bangalore too)

source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> City> Bangalore / by Leena Mudbidri, TNN / August 14th, 2014