To Dina, my birthplace in Pakistan
Contents
Author’s Note
POEMS
Zero Line
t+hjks ykbZu
Dina
nhuk
At Dina…
nhuk esa…
Dhaiyya
/;~;k!
Millstone
,d gh pDdj ysrk gS pDdh ij j[kk mez dk pkd!
If Possible…
vxj ,slk Hkh gks ldrk---
A Knock
nLrd
Bhameri
Hkesjh
Bullet
lkQ+s dks lj ls ijksrh gqbZ xqt+jh xksyh
A Scene
eUT+kj
Karachi
djkph!
Toba Tek Singh
Vksck Vsd flag!
Silence at the Border
ljgn ij ;s ldrk D;ksa gS
Neighbour
iM+kslh
Compatriot
ge oru
Zindanama
ft+Unka ukek
Eyes Don’t Need a Visa
vk¡[kksa dks oht+k ugha yxrk
Ramzan
lquks] bl ckj Hkh jet+ku ds fnu Fks!
Ghazal
x+t+y
TALES
Crossing the Raavi
Two Sisters
Kuldip Nayar and Pir Sahab
LoC
Two Soldiers
Partition
Fear
Smoke
Rams
The Jamun Tree
The Scent of Man
Search
Over
P.S.
A Dialogue: Gulzar and Joginder Paul on Partition and Their Fiction
Translator’s Note: Rakhshanda Jalil
Notes
About the Book
About the Authors
Copyright
Author’s Note
I HAVE WITNESSED the Partition. I have experienced the Partition. Standing on Zero Line I am still watching the trail of Partition. Seventy years have passed. Time has not been able to blow off the footprints. I don’t know how long it will take for them to sink into history and be the past.
Rakhshanda has been kind to compile this work on Partition. And Shantanu, my able editor, has been kind to conduct the notes with his baton very well.
POEMS
Zero Line
Walking up to Wagah with measured steps
When I came to stand at the Zero Line
My shadow fell in Pakistan!
The sun was behind me
And my Abbu was standing in front
He saw me
Resting his stick on the ground
He smiled and said,
‘When I had left my body there
I came back home, Punni!’
Abbu used to call me ‘Punni’.
‘I had hoped you would come,
For you had not received the news of my death
I knew you would come to bid me farewell!’
Startled, the moment paused
He tapped the ground with his stick
Stretching his hand, he said:
‘Come, let us go to Dina!’
My friends who had come to receive me at Wagah
Held me by the hand and took me to Lahore
In the din of the city no voices came back to me
But I could see a trail of silence
That led to Dina.
It used to be a qasba once
With a tiny cardboard railway station
Not all trains stopped there
Those were the days of the war
Only trains carrying soldiers stopped there
I would run to the station whenever I spotted the smoke
Abbu used to return with goods for the hatti.
There was just a bazaar
And a track lined by banyan trees
It’s still there
And a madrasa where, sitting on a piece of sackcloth,
I would write on my wooden board
That alley exists still –
Which opened into the fields
I caressed those walls on which
I used to write in Urdu with a piece of coal.
I hoped someone would hold my fingers
And teach me to spell every syllable correctly
But no one came –
Perhaps I had left him behind at Wagah
So I returned –
I am back at the Zero Line
My shadow whispers from behind me,
‘When you give up this body
Come back to your home
Your birthplace, your motherland.’
t+hjks ykbZu
uis d+neksa ls pyrs pyrs ok?kk ij---
eSa t+hjks ykbZu ij vk dj [kM+k Fkk tc
esjh iNkZbZa ikfdLrku esa Fkh!
esjs ihNs Fkk lwjt---
esjs vkxs esjs vCcw [kM+s Fks
eq>s ns[kk---
NM+h Vsdh t+eha ij
eqLdjk;s vkSj cksys
^ogka tc feV~Vh NksM+ jgh Fkh---
eSa vius ?kj pyk vk;k Fkk] iqUuh!*
esjs vCcw eq>s ^iqUuh* cqykrs Fks
^eq>s mEehn Fkh rqe vkvksxs iqUuh]
fd esjs var dh rqedks [+kcj igqaph ugha Fkh!
;d+ha Fkk vkvksxs eq>dks fonk djus!*
cl bd od+Q+k fBBj ds jg x;k Fkk
NM+h dks [kV[kVk;k fQj t+eha ij
c<+k dj gkFk cksys
^pyks nhuk pysaxs!*
esjs vgckc tks ok?kk is ysus vk;s Fks eq>dks
idM+ ds gkFk esjk --- ys x;s ykgksj eq>dks
ogka ds 'kksj&o&x+qy esa fQj dksbZ vkokt+ dkuksa esa ugha vkbZ
exj lUukVs dk bd jkLrk Fkk tks fn[kkbZ ns jgk Fkk
oks jkLrk ^nhuk* tkrk Fkk---
cgqr NksVk lk d+Lck Fkk] dHkh oks
cgqr NksVk lk xRrksa dk cuk;k ,d LVs'ku Fkk
ogka lc xkfM+;ka #drh ugha Fkha
exj oks ^yke* ds fnu Fks
ogh #drh Fkha ftuesa Q+kSft;ksa ds fMCcs gksrs Fks
/kqvka fn[krk Fkk xkM+h dk] rks nkSM+ vkrk Fkk LVs'ku ij
mlesa vCcw gV~Vh ds fy;s lkeku ysdj ykSVk djrs Fks---
cl bd ckt+kj Fkk
bd ^VkfYg;ksa* okyh lM+d Hkh Fkh
oks vc Hkh gS
enzlk Fkk tgka eSa VkV dh iV~Vh fcNk dj r[+rh fy[krk Fkk
xyh Hkh gS---
oks ftldk bd fljk [ksrksa esa [kqyrk Fkk
oks nhokjsa VVksysa] dks;sys ls ftu is mnZw fy[kk djrk Fkk
eq>s mEehn Fkh dksbZ esjh maxyh idM+ ysxk
eq>s fgTts fl[kk;sxk
exj dksbZ ugha vk;k---
eSa 'kk;n NksM+ vk;k Fkk] ogha ok?kk is mudks
eSa ykSV vk;k---
eSa t+hjks ykbZu ij vk dj [kM+k gw¡
esjs ihNs esjh iNkZbZa gS] vkokt+ nsrh gS
ogkW tc feV~Vh NksM+ksxs---
pys vkuk rqEgkjk ?kj ;gha ij gS
rqEgkjh tUe Hkweh gS! oru gS!
Dina
I had set out from Wagah
Playing Stapoo and jumping over
Roughly drawn squares on the ground
Crossing the bridge over the Jhelum in a steam engine
From Kalowal I emerged behind Mangla
To the city of Dina, near Kurlan.
I was born there.
Scouring alleys, searching for pebbles in drains
Waving my writing board, a schoolbag slung around my neck
I had stopped for a while
Beside the mill as it went clank-clank.
There was commotion
A crowd had gathered to watch
Two hennaed rams lock horns.
Whose horn would break first?
I scurried away, hiding through the legs.
Filling my pocket with ripe neem
berries
I suddenly found the gilli I had thrown at the tree lying on the ground
A squirrel must have hidden it!
My house was at the turn of the alley
Fearfully, I knocked at the door
An old man pushed the rusty door open
And looked at me with disbelief
He looked like my twin
I handed over my bag and came away
‘I will come again,’ I said
‘I am going to watch the rams fight…
‘Just an alley away!’
nhuk
eSa ok?kk ls pyk Fkk
t+ehuksa ij f[kps [+kkuksa esa
^lVkiks* [ksyrk vkSj ikj djrk]
/kw,sa dh xkM+h esa ^tgye* dk iqy xqt+jk
eSa ^dkyoky* ls ^eaxyk* ds ihNs dh rjQ+ fudyk
tgkWa ^dqykZa* ls yxrk 'kgj ^nhuk* gS!
ogkWa iSnk gqvk Fkk eSa!
eSa xfy;kWa [kkstrk] ukyh esa daps <wWaMrk]
ygjkrk r[+rh—vkSj xys esa >wyrk cLrk fy;s
Bgjk Fkk FkksM+h nsj]
ogkWa etek yxk Fkk
vkSj bd gYyM+ Fkk yksxksa dk
fd nks esgWnh yxs nqEcksa us lhax vius tdM+ jD[ks
Fks vkil esa!
fdlh dk lhax VwVsxk!
eSa Mj ds HkhM+ dh Vkaxksa ds uhps ls fudy vk;k
iDdh uheksfy;ksa ls tscsa viuh Hkj jgk Fkk tc
vpkud isM+ ij [kksbZ gqbZ fxYyh
t+eha ij fey xbZ eq>dks
fxYgjh us Nqik yh Fkh!
xyh dk eksM+ eqM+rs gh esjk ?kj Fkk
cgqr Mj Mj ds njokt+s is nLrd nh
fdlh cw<+s us t+ax vkywn njokt+k /kdsyk
cM+h gSjr ls ns[kk eq>dks cw<+s us
esjk ge'kDy yxrk Fkk!
eSa cLrk j[kds ykSV vk;k
^eSa fQj vkm$axk*] ;s dg dj
^nqEcksa dh yM+kbZ ns[kus tkrk gw¡---
^eSa fiNyh xyh esa gw¡!*
At Dina…
She was a big girl
She had pulled me behind the door, holding my schoolbag
And stolen the lump of clay
Nibbling at it, she had smiled at me
Planting a kiss on my cheeks, she said,
‘Give me this clay
I have to layer my slate with it and write a name.’*
‘She must be pregnant!’ my mother told me.
I was possibly six years old then
I am fifty-six now
Still pregnant with her memory
I still remember that girl!
nhuk esa…
cM+h lh ,d yM+dh Fkh
esjk cLrk idM+ ds] vkSj njokt+s ds ihNs [khap dj eq> dks
esjs cLrs ls bl us xkpuh feV~Vh pqjkbZ Fkh
dqrj ds nkar ls oks eqLdjkbZ Fkh!
esjs xkyksa is iIih ys ds cksyh Fkh
^eq>s ns ns ;s feV~Vh!
^eq> dks r[+rh iksr dj bd uke fy[kuk gS!*
^oks dksbZ gkeyk gksxh!* eq>s ek¡ us crk;k Fkk!
eSa 'kk;n Ns cjl dk Fkk
eSa vc NIiu cjl dk gq¡
eSa vc Hkh gkeyk gq¡ ;kn ls ml dh
oks yM+dh vc Hkh eq> dks ;kn vkrh gS!
Dhaiyya*
It has taken me seventy years
To return to Dina and touch the dhaiyya
How much have I run in the wasteland of Time
How long have I played hide-and-seek!
An old picture of the railway station
The smoke from the engine hovering mid-air
Its colours had begun to fade
And standing at one of the doors of the train
Was my Abbu.
The picture was beginning to flake off
When I reached the dhaiyya
The board was still there at the station
So was the name
But what once appeared on its breast
Now seems to be written on its back
Behind it stretches, lost, the railway track endlessly.
Moving through the silent film of my past
The alley from which I had emerged
Still lies there like a snakeskin.
In these seventy years
Even the throat of the water wheel has run dry
The water has settled deep inside the sand
And the well sits, its mouth agape.
There was a pond ahead of Daata Chowk
It used to lie with the sky on its chest
It too has closed its eyes
Filled them with earth.
My madrasa was a primary one
Sitting in the sun on a piece of sackcloth
I used to read my primer
Now, it is a high school
With benches!
A ragged tree stands some distance away
Somewhere there the master used to make me bend over like a rooster*
The old tree bends, trying to place me
Both of us have the same question:
‘It’s you, isn’t it?’
How desolate the past becomes
How desolate becomes childhood
Only a whiff remains, a dampness
Like descending into a basement…
Sleep overtakes you in basements.
/;~;k!
lRrj lky yxs gSa eq>dks
^nhuk* okil vkdj /;~;k Nwus esa
fdruk nkSM+k gw¡ eSa oD+r ds ohjkus esa
fdruh yEch vk¡[k fepksyh [ksyh gS!
cgqr fnuksa dh fpidh gqbZ rLohj Fkh ,d LVs'ku dh
dqN chp gok esa Bgjk gqvk butu dk /kqvka
ihyh iM+us yxh Fkh vc jaxr mldh
V~jsu ds bd njokt+s esa tks [kM+s Fks] esjs vCcw Fks
nhokjksa ls fpidh gqbZ rLohj IykLrj NksM+ jgh Fkh]
tc /;~;k ij igqapk eSa
cksMZ rks gS LVs'ku ij vc Hkh
uke Hkh gS---
lhus ij fy[kk jgrk Fkk igys mlds
mlds ihNs nwj ryd cslq/k iM+h gS jsy dh iV~jh!
ekt+h dh [+kkeks'k fQ+Ye ls xqt+j jgk Fkk
xyh tgka ls fudyk Fkk eSa
ogha iM+h gS tSls esjh dSapyh j[kh gks
lRrj lky esa
dqd dqd djrs djrs iu&pDdh dk xyk Hkh lw[k x;k
jsr ds vanj tk dj cSB x;k gS ikuh
eqag [kksys cSBk gS dqvk¡
^nkrk pkSd* ds vkxs bd rkykc Fkk igys
vkLeku lhus is j[k ds ysVk jgrk Fkk
mlus Hkh vk¡[ksa can dj yha
vk¡[kksa esa feV~Vh Hkj yh gS
esjk enzlk izkbZezh Fkk
VkV fcNk dj] /kwi esa ^dsnk* i<+rk Fkk
vc gkbZ Ldwy gS
csap yxs gSa!
Nnzk lk bd isM+ [kM+k gS nwj t+jk
ogha dgha ^eqx+kZ* cuok dj [kM+k fd;k djrk Fkk ekLVj
cw<+k isM+ ogha ls >qd dj
igpkuus dh dksf'k'k djrk gS
^ogh rks gks rqe---!*
ge nksuksa dguk pkgrs gSa
dSls ohjka gks tkrs gSa lky iqjkus
ohjka gks tkrk gS cpiu
fQj Hkh ,d egd jg tkrh gS lhyu dh
rg [+kkuksa esa mrjks rks---
rg [+kkuksa esa uhan lh vkus yxrh gS!
Millstone
The millstone of Time goes around only once
Grinding everything fine in that one cycle.
To gather everything from one lifetime
And keep pouring into the millstone
All the stones, pebbles, marbles of one’s childhood
To bring together all the knowledge, experiences, lessons
All the horizons desired along the way
All the fields harvested during the day
The gardens of star-filled nights
Were all put into the grinder.
The rosaries of day and night are coming apart
Perhaps, just a hands-width of life remains
I am returning to Dina where the millstone had started its cycle.*
,d gh pDdj ysrk gS pDdh ij j[kk mez dk pkd!
,d gh pDdj ysrk gS pDdh ij j[kk mez dk pkd
,d gh pDdj esa lk
jk dqN fil tkrk gS
,d g;krh esa tks dqN Hkh gkfly gks
lc dqN tek djuk vkSj mUMsyrs jsguk pkd esa
ukS&mezh ds iRFkj] fiV~Bw] dUps] dadj]
bYe] rtqcZs vkSj ulhgrsa ftruh cVksjh gksa
'kkSd+ us ftrus mQ+d+ pqus gks pyrs pyrs
[ksr fnuksa ds dkVs ftrus
rkjksa Hkjh jkrksa ds ckx+ mrkjs tks lc Hkh
Mky fn;s pkd ds vUnj
jkr vkSj fnu dh rlchgsa vc VwV jgh gSa
bd ckfy'r fgLlk ckd+h gS mez dk 'kk;n!
ykSV jgk gw¡ ^nhuk* tgka ls pkd pyk Fkk!
If Possible…
If it were possible
To transfer my dreams to your sleep
And show you all that I often see
If that were possible
You would know that
I had taken you across the border to Dina
Shown you the house where I was born
Where all day long the sunlight
Pouring through the iron grill on the roof
Transformed my courtyard into a chessboard.
I had shown you those fields of mustard
Made you savour the raw yellow flowers
And a trail of banyan trees for miles
Conjured up jhoolas in the moist monsoons
The scent of that path
Perfumes my eyes
Whenever I traverse that dream.
I had also shown you the ‘moving well’ of Rohtas
Imprisoned in the fort all day
It would come to the village at night
They say…
From Kala to Kalowal I have flown with you on wheels
Pointing out wondrous sights over the Jhelum
Where boys float over the river on watermelons
And holding on to the turban of a sturdy sardar
I would bathe, bob up and down
Before a sudden strong current would startle me awake.
But all this is possible only in dreams
There are some political difficulties in going there now
It is still my motherland but it isn’t my country anymore
To go there, I have to visit many offices of the two governments
Get my face stamped and provide proof of my dreams.
vxj ,slk Hkh gks ldrk---
vxj ,slk Hkh gks ldrk---
rqEgkjh uhan esa lc [+okc vius eqUrfd+y dj ds
rqEgsa oks lc fn[kk ldrk] tks eSa [+okcksa esa vDlj ns[kk djrk gw¡!
;s gks ldrk vxj eqfEdu
rqEgsa ekywe gks tkrk
rqEgsa eSa ys x;k Fkk] ljgnksa ds ikj nhuk esa
rqEgsa oks ?kj fn[kk;k Fkk—tgka iSnk gqvk Fkk eSa
tgka Nr ij yxk lj;ksa dk taxyk] /kwi ls fnu Hkj
esjs vkaxu esa 'krjath cukrk Fkk] feVkrk Fkk
fn[kkbZ Fkha rqEgsa oks [ksfr;ka ljlksa dh] nhus eas] fd ftl ds