Partition stories blog

Aya Singh

Name: Aya Singh
Interviewed By: Ritika Popli 
Interview Date:
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Story:

I remember my cousin who was left behind during Partition, and a Pathan family took the boy in and protected him.

If there is a Partition memory that stands out to me the most, it is that of my paternal aunt’s family living close to ours:  that they had a son who was left behind in the village of Sudhera, near to the city of Yar Hussain in the district of Mardan; he was unable to migrate during the Partition. Later we came to learn that the Pathans of that area took him in, and would dress him up everyday in their attire and take him to the fields where he could work, and then bring him back. They would even carry guns for his safety, in case any local would object to his presence. Later, his family sent for military help from Hoti Mardan and brought him back safe and sound. This kind of generosity is also a narrative that existed in the midst of all the stories of hate and killings.

I was born in 1935 in Hoti Mardan, in the North-West Frontier Province (now Khyber Pakhtunkhwa). The district is close to the town of Peshawar. I grew up with my parents, five brothers and two sisters. We were not very affluent in our ways, but made enough money to lead a sufficient life. We had a big house with four or five rooms. I distinctly recall that there was a well right in the middle of the house and the water was very sweet. My grandfather oversaw the construction with his own eyes, and at the age of 100 kept the accounts and ensured the process went well. We had a few bulls and cows as well. All the food grains would come from nearby fields.

Before Partition, I went to a madrasa (institution of education) in Yar Hussain to study. My elder brother would involve me in accounts of his trade, and that really helped me ace mathematics and calculations in school. I still remember my friends from the madrasa; I was very fond of them. The majority of my friends were Muslim, and at that young age, we were unaware of religious difference. There were just five to seven Sikh families in the area and the rest were all Muslims, but we never faced any problem.

I was 12 years old when Partition took place. The situation had become bad in the nearby villages with stories of killings and forced conversions becoming common. We soon began collecting cloth and started to sew extra clothing in case we were forced to leave suddenly and move on foot.

As a result, in the days leading up to our actual migration we were well packed and prepared to move at any time. My family decided to move in the middle of the night, and we travelled from Yar Hussain to Hoti Mardan. Throughout the way we were helped by a number of well-wishers who were all Muslims. Once we reached Hoti Mardan we felt very safe because the Deputy Commissioner at that time, who was also a Muslim, was a very nice man and did not have any communal biases. He made sure that no one from our village was attacked by any mob. We took shelter in my maternal grandmother’s house in Hoti Mardan. We soon reached Rawalpindi. From there, my sisters travelled by plane, but my other family members and I travelled by train. 

We arrived in Patiala after Partition, carrying bags of clothes; we had nothing else with us. There was no space on the railway station in Patiala: it was utterly crowded. In the midst of all the chaos, we lost a few bags of clothes. We stayed there in a small rented house for one year. My father started selling small items on the streets. After that, we went to Ambala. We just had three pairs of clothes left with us. 

In spite of struggling with poverty, my father put one condition on the children. Even though we had no regular source of income, at no point would any of us beg, borrow, or steal. We would manage with limited resources but do everything on our own. I recall that starting school again was difficult at this time, as I did not know the Punjabi language very well.

We moved to Delhi in 1949 and started a small food business in front of the Sheeshganj Gurudwara in Chandni Chowk. Slowly, we began to earn money. During the day I would attend school and then come back and help with the preparations. After that, we would sleep in our makeshift shop itself. 

The local people were very helpful, although we also never asked for any help from anyone including the government. We never filed for any claim or compensation. I found work at the Punjab and Sindh Bank in Karol Bagh as an assistant cashier. In 1955, I briefly worked as a stenographer, and then later became a personal assistant in the Department of Parliamentary Affairs. 

I retired in 1993. Today I live with my wife in Inderpuri, Delhi. I have always been deeply inclined towards religious teachings and seek great solace in doing community service by teaching underprivileged children in my society. I always feel honoured that I have been selected to carry out these duties, and have made a small prayer room in my house, where I spend a large part of my days. 

My elder brother and I still talk about it, but most of my companions – or people old enough to remember Partition – have mostly passed away. I still don’t see any difference among people and feel all people are equal. There is always good and bad in the world, one has to follow the good faith in the world.

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