Editor: Murtaza Shibli
contact@kashmiraffairs.org
Mohan Singh
Survivor of Partition
Amina Rawat
This August, marks the 60th anniversary of the independence of India from British rule and the birth of Pakistan; causes of celebration for over a billion people today. However, these rejoicing historical events were also accompanied by an unprecedented horror from the division of the Sub-continent, the memories of which also still lingers. One man’s short narrative of partition epitomizes the violence, torture, both physical and psychological, and deaths faced by millions in the largest mass exodus history has ever known.
“I was age 12-13 when I came here during partition. I remember ‘47 very well; it was in November the firing had started and we had to hide in our relative’s shop during the day. At night we tried to leave but were surrounded by the army so we tried another way to leave and cross over. We came walking through water up to our shoulders to India. Pakistan was firing from all four corners and I saw many casualties and deaths. The firing and the bombs burnt 2- 3 bodies in one go, there was smoke everywhere. At that time I didn’t think we’d survive.
My chacha [paternal Uncle] got a bullet, I picked him up but couldn’t walk with him so I put him in a hole. My Uncle said to leave him there and save myself, I went 1-2km ahead but came back for him. But it was too late, he was dead.
When we arrived, we had to make airfields here in Poonch, on top of the graveyard. We had no equipment to do it with and worked all night. Many people died doing it. Then the airport opened and the army came. They provided food to the people, before there was nothing.
We lived 4-5 families in one room with about 15 families per house. There were lots of illness and subsequent deaths, but we couldn’t bury them, we had to burn them, the Brigadier said to burn them otherwise more disease would spread.
There were no Muslims here at that time to die, but our Muslim neighbours [in Pakistan] hid us Sikh neighbours. And when Pakistan found out they skinned alive the Muslim neighbour shouting “why did you help them?” I only found this out recently when the son of our neighbour came over here with the opening of the Rawalpindi-Poonch road. Oh ..you can not imagine the torment I feel.
All this in happened in November ’47. When we remember that time, we get shivers, and we think we were born again. Scenes we saw we will never forget.”
Mohan Singh, 75, Poonch (Dec 2006)