I don’t know why Darshan Singh didn`t go mad. His father

Died at home, his mother was lost in the ruins of the

Gurudwara, and Shahni had given birth to twins, two sons.

He wasn`t sure if he should laugh or cry. Fate had made a

Strange bargain with him – given with one hand and taken

Away with the other.

      They had heard that freedom was coming, but they didn`t

Know when it would reach Layalpur. Both the Hindus and

Sikhs had secretly begun to gather in the Gurudwara. Shahni

Used to groan with labour pains day and night. It was her first

Confinement.

Darshan Singh used to bring news about the latest riots.

Bhapaji, trying to comfort him, always said, “Nothing will

Happen, son. Nothing will happen. Has a single house, either

Or a Hindu or a Sikh, been yet attacked?”

     “But, Bhapaji, the Gurudwara has been attacked, hasn`t it?

It has been set on fire twice.”

“And yet all of you want to gather there!”

That always silenced Darshan Singh. People, however,

Continued to leave their homes and take shelter in the

Gurudwara.

“people feel more secure when they are together, Bhapaji.

There is no Hindu or Sikh left in our lane. We are all alone

Here.”

     Ten or fifteen days earlier, they heard Bhapaji fall in the

Courtyard one night. They had got up with a start. They could

Hear slogans being shouted in the direction of the Gurudwara

-         “Jo bole so nihal.” The slogans woke up Bhapaji and he

went up the terrace to investigate. Coming down the steps,

he slipped and his head struck against the axe lying in the

courtyard.

    They somehow managed to complete the last rites for

Bhapaji. After that, they stuffed all their valuable in a pillow-

Case and the three of them sought shelter in the Gurudwara.

There were quite a few terror-sticken people there and that

Is why they felt safe. He was no longer afraid.

    Darshan Singh said, “We are no longer alone. And, in any

Case, Waheguru is with us.”

    A group of young volunteers was busy with work all day

Long. People had brought with them all the flour, dal and ghee

They had in their homes. The community kitchen was open

Day and night. But how long could they have lived there? The

Question troubled everyone. People hoped that the govern-

ment would send them some help soon.

“ which government” someone asked. “The British have

left. “

“Pakistan has been created, but the government of Pakistan

is yet to be formed.”

“I have heard that the army is out everywhere and is

helping migrants to reach the border.”

“Migrants? Who are they?

“Refuges.”

“I`ve never heard those words before.”

A group of two or three families couldn`t endure the

Tension any longer.

“W e are going to the station. We have heard that the trains

are running again. How long can we stay on here anyway?”

“We’ll have to be courageous. Waheguru can`t carry us on

his shoulders, can he?”

one of them shouted loudly, “Nanak naam jahaz hai, jo

chade so utare paar.”

The department of a few people always left behind a vacuum

In the place. It would be filled only when other people arrived

And brought news from outside world.

“There is a huge encampment at  the station.”

“there are some people who are dying of hunger and

others of overeating! Also there is the outbreak of an epi-

demic.”

“Five days ago, a train had passed this way. There was no

place on it even for a sesame seed. People were packed tightly

on the roofs.”

It was Sankranti. Prayers were recited in the Gurudwara

From morning till late at night. On that auspicious day, Shahni

Gave birth to twins. One of them was very weak. There was

Little hope for survival. But Shahni struggled to keep him

Alive.

That night someone announced, “A special train for the

Refugees has arrived. Let`s get out.”

A large caravan left Gurudwara. Darshan Singh joined

It. Shahni was very weak, but she agreed to go for the sake

Of her sons. But Darshan Singh`s mother refused.

“I`ll come come later, my son. I`ll come with the next caravan.

You take care of your wife and sons.”

Darshan Singh argued with her, and the granthi tried to

Reason with her. Then the volunteers consoled him and said,

“Leave while you can, Sardarji. One by one, all of us will

reach the border. We`ll bring Beeji with us.”

Darshan Singh Singh left with the others. He placed his children

In a wicker-basket and then lifted it onto his head, as if it

Contained all the wealth of his family.

The train was waiting at the station, but there was no free

Space in it. People seemed to sprout from the roofs of the

Compartments like grass.

When people saw the new-born children and their ex-

hausted mother, they felt sorry for them and made place for

them on the roof.

About ten hours later, the train began to move. The

Evening sky was red, bloody and hot. Shahni`s breasts had

Been sucked dry. She tried to suckle wach child alternately.

Wrapped in two dirty bundles, it seemed as though the chil-

dren had been picked-up from a garbage heap.

The train steamed into the night. After a few hours,

Darshan Singh noticed that one child still moved its

Hands and legs and occasionally cried, the other was very still.

When he put his hand on the bundle, he realized that the child

Was cold and been dead for some time.

Darshan Singh began to weep loudly. People around him

Realized what had happened. They tried to take the dead child

Away from Shahni, but she sat like a statue, and clutched the

Basket to her chest.

“No, he won`t drink milk without his brother.”

People tried to persuade her, but she refused to let go of

The basket.

The train stopped many times, and then started again.

People tried to guess where they were in the darkness.

“We have passé Khairabad.”

“I am sure this is Gujranwalla.”

“we have another hour to go. Soon after Lahore, we`ll

reach Hindustan.”

Feeling a little more confident, some peoplke even shouted

Slogans:

“Har-Har mahadev.!”

“Jo bole so nihal!”

the movement the train reached the bridge, a wave of

excitement ran through the crowd.

“we have reached the river Raavi.”

“this is the Raavi. We are in Lahore.”

In that confusion, someone whispered in Darshan Singh`s

Ear, “Sardarji, throw the dead child into the Raavi. He will

Be blessed. Why must you carry him to the other side?”

Darshan Singh cautiously pulled the basket away from his

Wife.and then, he quickly snatched a bundle out of it and,

In the name of Waheguru, threw it into the Raavi.

In the darkness, he heard the faint cry of a child. Darshan

Singh looked in terror towards his wife. She was clutching

The dead child to her chest. Then a strom of voices arose –

“Wagah, Wagah.”

“Hindustan Zindabad!”

Raavi Paar (Across the Raavi)

Story by : Gulzar

Translated By : Alok Bhalla