Homecoming

by Juhi Bansal

Scene I

‘Will I see my children alive today?’, the only thought draining Parwati’s mind while she was listening to the horrifying news of riots over the radio. Parwati’s husband Chiranji Lal Gupta and their other children, Sarla, Lata, Krishna, Swadesh, and Laksh, were frightened but were trying to comfort their mother, waiting for their siblings to return home safely.

Partition created an invisible line in Hindustan, dividing it into India and Pakistan. Each side had seen horrific murders, abductions, rapes, and mass devastation. An unending rivalry initiated by the English but experienced by the families on either side waiting endlessly for their loved ones. August 1947 was a terrible month for the country, but Parwati never thought it would become a nightmare for her family, residing at Satta Bazaar, Bathinda.

Chiranji Lal Gupta was a famous lawyer in Bathinda and had done his graduation from the Lahore Law College during the 1920s. His wish was to send his two sons, Suraj and Manmohan Lal, to the same college to study law. And now he sits here with a dejected heart, not knowing if they would make it alive or not.

There was a pin-drop silence in the entire house, and the only voice one could hear was from the radio. The lady on the radio was giving regular updates of killings all over the country.

‘Switch off that bloody thing,’ said Parwati, full of anger. ‘I do not want to hear any more nonsense. I know my sons will make it.’ Swadesh silently got up from his place and switched off the radio.

The Gupta Mansion was situated within 400 meters from the Bathinda Junction, and every time Parwati heard a train whistling, she would pray that her sons would get down from the train, take a quick walk, reach home, knock on the door and then hug her tightly. With unending tears in her eyes, she stood in the large verandah of her house while praying for her children’s well-being. It was as if she had never asked for anything else with that passion.

With each second on the clock, her heartbeat was getting faster, and she could not stop thinking the worst. Nothing and no one could seem to calm her. After all, she was a mother, and the only thought that clouded her mind was ‘Will I see my children alive today?’

Scene II

‘Run, Suraj, Run,’ said Manmohan. ‘This is the last train to Bathinda. If we don’t board this, we would never be able to see Bibi.’

‘Where’s Raghu?’ asked Suraj.

‘I am right here, said Raghvar Dayal, one of the many who were running for their lives.

Suraj’s college books fell from his hand, and he slid while picking them. He stumbled upon a dead body, and one side of his clothes turned dark red with blood. He started sobbing in fear when Manmohan, who had taken a few steps ahead, realized Suraj was standing behind.

He shouted, ‘Run, Suraj, Run,’ but Suraj could not take a step forward. He could not lift his feet. There was no energy left in his hind limbs, as if they did not know how to work.

Manmohan ran behind, grabbed Suraj’s hand and started running. ‘Is this the same Lahore Station where we used to board the train for Bathinda?’ asked Suraj. Manmohan did not know what to say, but he knew that they had to run if they wanted to meet their family.

Raghu was a little ahead and had boarded the train. He was pushing others to make room for his friends. With one hand holding the train and the other extending towards Suraj and Manmohan, he could see a group of Muslim rioters chasing the Gupta brothers with swords, dripping with the blood of other Hindus.

The train — Janata Express, which used to run from Lahore to Bathinda daily, was packed with more dead bodies than the living. People were throwing the corpses out of the train to make some space for the people who are still alive.

For an instant, Raghu thought, this was the last time he was looking at Manmohan and Suraj. His entire college life with these two skinny lads flashed in front of his eyes. He did not know how he would face Parwati. What would be the justification for not getting her sons along? But then, to his utter surprise, both boarded the train. Their books and bags fell onto the platform, their brown pants and cotton shirts torn from various places with blood trickling from their shoulders.

Once inside the train, they tried to close the main door so that the Muslim rioters could not enter, but they failed. Shouting “Allahu Akbar,” two of them boarded the same coach and started pulling people from their shirts and attacking them mercilessly, hungry for more blood.

Raghu, Manmohan, and Suraj were petrified and shoved themselves inside to find a place to hide, but where could someone sneak in such a situation. Manmohan instantly pulled them down and told them to hide below the lower seats. He asked them to lay in a crouched position so that they are not visible. While the slaughter was on its full force, a body dripping in blood fell right in front of Suraj. He was about to shout when Manmohan put his hand over Suraj’s mouth. Manmohan knew that it was next to impossible to get to the other end alive now. All they were praying was for the train to pick up speed.

Few others still had the guts and were trying to fight with whatever they got their hands on. They were finally able to throw the two rioters out of the bogie. The train started running at its full speed, and whoever was left alive has just one thought “Will the train cross the border? And if it did, will they be alive to see it?”

Scene III

Pacing up and down the large verandah of her house while nervously playing with a corner of her baby pink chiffon dupatta, Parwati could not stop speculating about the worst. She has not had a sip of water since she heard about the Lahore riots. Sarla offered her some food, but Parwati shooed her away.

‘Bibi, you need to eat something,’ said Sarla. Listening to this, Parwati snapped at her ‘NO, what I need is, to see Mohan and Suraj alive. Do you think they might have boarded the train? Would they have got enough space to fit in? Would they make it?’ Sarla could not answer any questions.

Chiranji Lal stood in the background hearing this conversation but was helpless. He knew he could say nothing to help the situation. He knew that she is a “Mother”, and no one except her can understand the emotions she is going through.

The entire Gupta family was helpless, and looking at their faces, Parwati fell on the floor and started crying uncontrollably. She kept chanting, ‘Mohan. Suraj. Come Back Please’. Lata came running towards her mother, and both Sarla and Lata sat beside her and hugged her tight. No one said a word.

They could hear Krishna sitting inside the puja room chanting the Maha Mrityunjaya jaap non-stop.

Amid all of this, no one paid attention to Chiranji Lal and his tears. Parwati could cry loudly and share her grief but being the man of the house, it was extremely difficult for him to show his weak side. He had to be strong enough for his family. He slowly dragged himself to the dining room, where he saw Laksh and Swadesh put nine plates on the long wooden oak table. “Pitaji, we will have dinner together when Mohan birji and Suraj birji are home.” As soon as Chiranji heard this, he broke down as well.

Scene IV

“Bibi, give me the piping hot phulka with lots of ghee and red chili powder… please,” said Mohan.

“Here you go. Enjoy… and you all, please finish your food fast. Suraj, Mohan, make sure you pack all your books for college before you leave for Lahore tomorrow morning,” said Parwati.

This conversation from yesterday now felt like that was so long ago, maybe from a parallel universe. So much has changed since then. Mohan went cold when he thought, what if this could be his last memory of Bibi.

Both the brothers were still crouched under the lower seat hugging each other tightly lest they get caught. Their journey to the Lahore station today was one of the most horrific memories. It would be itched in their hearts forever. They cannot forget how they fled from the college to find a vehicle that could drive them to the station. But all in vain. The only way was to walk or run towards the junction. However, given the circumstances at every nook and corner, they found Muslim rioters standing with swords or knives. The anger in their eyes for Hindus could be seen from the bodies lying around, murdered, raped, tortured. 70% of the houses in every lane were burnt and broken. It felt as if the entire planet was on fire. Finally, Mohan and Suraj reached near the Lahore Junction, but they could not enter it from the front gate. They knew there was no sense in fighting the rioters. They moved around the junction walls and reached towards the opposite side, climbed the walls, and crossed the railway tracks to reach the platform and find some space in any bogie.

Mohan realized he needs to stop thinking about what happened in the past few hours. But he was not able to control his mind. From the small slits in the wooden seats, he could see some more boarded the train and were stabbing the cotton luggage looking for any Hindus hidden behind it. They inserted the swords with full force and pulled them out to see if any blood touched the sword. If yes, they would remove the luggage and pull aside the person and kill him brutally. If it was a woman, they would try to rape her while she would try to save herself by consuming poison.

Looking at this horrendous act, Mohan held Suraj’s hand tightly and prayed that the next 45 minutes should pass as early as possible. He did not have the strength to face another group of rioters. Time flies so fast when one is happy and so slow when one is in trouble. The next 45 minutes to reach Amritsar seemed like forever. He knew that once they cross the border and reach the Amritsar junction, it would be a relief.

Scene V

Back in Bathinda, the house looked like a crematorium. There was no sound except for the ticking clock, which seemed like a time bomb. Every second felt like an hour, and Parwati could not control it anymore.

“Mohan won’t make it alive… He won’t”, Parwati kept murmuring this while sitting on the cold floor. She looked like someone who had gone mad with grief.

Just then, when she had lost all hopes, there was a knock on the large beige, yellow wooden door at the main entrance. Her eyes sparkled with hope, but as soon as she ran to open the door, Chiranji Lal ordered her to go inside. Parwati was offended to hear this and did not move. She looked at her husband in shock and did not expect him to say this. Chiranji Lal tried to explain to her that it could be a hoax. He could not put the lives of his other children at stake.

“What are you saying? What if it is Mohan?” shouted Parwati.

“What if it is not?” said Chiranji.

It was as if Parwati had to choose between her children. She knew it was the most difficult thing, but she had to. She looked at Sarla, Lata, Krishna, Swadesh, and Laksh. She took a step back and then heard something, “Bibi… It’s me… Mohan… Open the door, please.”

Ignoring all the instructions and advices by her husband, she ran towards the main entrance. As soon as she was about to open the main door, she realized what if her husband is right. What if there are Muslim rioters as well.

Outside the gate Mohan and Suraj could not stop trembling after what they had faced today. They knew they were in Bathinda right outside their own house but could not stop thinking about the worst. “Why is Bibi not opening the door birji?” asked Suraj who was looking here and there to avoid getting noticed by any group of rioters. No one could be trusted in such a situation.

“If bibi, doesn’t open the door in the next 1 minute, let’s hide in the drain right here” said Mohan.

“How can we hide here?” asked a surprised Suraj. “In the same way we hid ourselves in the train. Crouched. Remember.” informed Mohan.

“Ah. How can I ever forget this journey?” Suraj said.

Inside, a worried Parwati, tried to look from a small darwaja (as she used to call it) to ensure that only her sons are standing outside. She hesitated to open the main door. Here hands were trembling with fear. But she gathered all the courage and opened the small door attached to the main gate. There was no one outside. She got worried and was not sure who would knock at such an odd hour and then run away. What if there were rioters outside?

Mohan and Suraj got out from the drain as they heard the cracking voice of the Darwaja. They stood in front of the small door and looked at Parwati. All of them started crying with happiness. Parwati’s hand froze right there. In all of this, she forgot that she had to open the door to let the boys in. Chiranji Lal came forward and opened the door. Mohan and Suraj entered the premises and ran into her arms. Chiranji locked the darwaja securely behind them and folded his hands in prayer, thanking the Almighty that both his sons reached their home safely.

Mohan and Suraj realized that they got a second chance at life.

“Bibi, give me the piping hot phulka with lots of ghee and red chili powder… please,” said Mohan. Parwati smiled.