A LINE ….

A single line is what we see on the map. It said ‘this is India’ and that is Pakistan. The line that was made more than fifty years ago not only changes geography but also relationships. The partition was a painful and significant act. I was born to witness it but the imagination leaves me scared and pained.

Imagine. Think. Think about the day when our leaders sat in a beautifully furnished room deciding the destiny of … Indians? Or Pakistanis? No, I would say, of ‘us’.

Think about the reactions of the common people and friends sitting at tea-time when they are told this was the last tea they shared together!! Think about the violence, riots and brutal murders, trains that transported humans like cattles and goods. Think about the families that were given only twenty – four hours to pack up everything they had and leave behind their motherland.

How sad and tragic for joint families to separate, for brothers to go apart, for students to leave their college, for women to leave their homes, for children to leave their friends, for innocent eyes to witness the murders of their neighbours by the same people who were once their friends.

And for the people who were left behind? They could do nothing but cry accept the reality. They stood on their terraces, shocked and confused, staring dumbly at the huge caravans fleeing to their respective new nations. They watched them go until the passages were empty. The roars and screams were over, many sleepless nights came to an end, and the flow of blood streams came to a stop.

And what was left was empty space, a canvas coloured by patches of blood, tears, and shattered dreams. What was left was a long list of undelivered messages, incomplete families, missing brothers and sisters. What was left behind was A LINE.

One side shouted proudly:” we are independent Indians; the winners”. The other side shouted:” we are the winners of our independence”. But under those empty claims, they knew they were defeated. The line marked the defeat… a defeat of humanity.

poem....

ME!!!!


What I am not
Is that part of me
I am trying to be
Though it never seems to help me.

Afraid of myself
Is what I am
As I want to see me
Through other eyes

Can’t I just be
What I want to be
Unbeknownst of
What others see.