Okay, so I'm Indian..Read a lot of survival threads and decided to share an account that always has me like "
" and my grandmother is always
quiet when she recalls it. Shes a happy person but this makes her breath heavy,etc. My grandparents all hailed from Lahore, which is now in Pakistan.
Basically, Muslims claimed Pakistan and Sikhs, Hindus, Buddist, etc. claimed india. In between the partiton in Punjab (land of 5 rivers) and it has a
high population of Sikhs and Muslims, with a small Hindu population.
Well before the split, people ignored it and called those who said it was comming nuts. Our village in Lahore was sikhs and muslims who got along and
everyone would laugh at the "prophets" who predidcted this would happen. People collected news bits and would puzzle toghether what was to come..Our
family was wealthy beyond explanation..300+ acres of land, which at the time was
...a Room full of dishes, a room full of gold, a stack of money
worthy of its own vault, a room full of cotton, etc. etc. Symbols of wealth and our family had been there for who knows how many generations. We were
farmers, which in India/Pakistan is a considered very respectable (or was, thats been changing this past decade or 2)..
Overtime, planes would fly overhead, people would duck on there roofs and watch them. They would land in crops, mowing down vegitation and troops
would march across the front of houses.. You have to understand these houses are in the middle of a field, cheap dirt road, house has 4 brick walls,
with a open courtyard, storage rooms, a outdoor and indoor kitchen, and on the roof room for sleeping (all outdoors, little storage rooms, no
bathrooms). They all locked the door and said we wont be killed by the soldiers marching, the planes are another issue.
Well the day finally came, we were thrown out the land and the muslims from the village pleaded with the dakus (terrorist) to allow my family to take
a cow to feed the kids, etc. They would not..My grandma got out early still compared to others. They would kill the head of families and make the
others march, which would take up to a 3-4 weeks. airplanes would throw rice and chick peas overhead for those below. People would drink rain water,
sometimes clean and sometimes manure filled (from animal's eating pits, where it would collect). My grandmother saw a man who had 6 sons, and when
they got tired he would throw them in the rivers or wells, and only his youngest son made it
. The rivers were poisoned and filled with blood
from the dead. Many people didn't make it to the border. Some people were held hostage by muslims and sikhs in a "exchange program" where they
would bargain for muslims and sikhs. They were all taken to camps by the governemnts if they made it to the border, registered for a plot of land and
looked for family. (our 300 somethign acres came out to less then 25, split amongst 5-6 brothers. My grandfather turned his 4-5 acres into 50+)
Anyway, I can't describe it in the detail she does but I thought it would be an interesting read for some of you..I like listening to stories