Happy Republic Day to all my friends and readers in India. I nearly forgot about this auspicious day until I was reminded of it by a post at MagicEye's Mumbai Daily Photo. The Indian Constitution, which finalized the transition from British rule was adopted 26 January 1950. For more, click on the flag to go to the Wiki article.
"Dance, Sister, Dance"
Raleigh, NC - March 2009 (Click to embiggen)
As she told the story, she was surprised at how easily it spilled from her. She told it without tears, without anger. Arjun listened, in shocked silence as she related the horrors of her life, to stunned to interrupt. Only the occasional smack of skin that left another mosquito a red-black smear punctuated her tale.
Rubbing his chin, Arjun wondered how she had lived in India the last two years not knowing about the Partition. With all of the upheaval and violence that had sprung up around it, surely there could be no corner that the news had not reached.
"Where have you been the last two years?"
"In Hell."
"Who were those men?", she asked later, "And why would they want to kill us?"
"Most probably raiders from one side of the border or the other." Arjun speculated.
"Border? Which border?"
Head cocked, he regarded her momentarily before answering. Could she really not know?
"The India-Pakistan border"
"Pak-ee...stan?" she said quizzically. "Where is Pak-ee...stan?"
From the maybe you know it, maybe you don't file:
The nation we know as Pakistan didn't exist until 1947 when the British relinquished control of India. The partition was probably not the choice of the vast majority, but was a non-negotiable point between very vocal and powerful minorities on both sides. The British, significantly weakened both economically and militarily by the Second World War and facing growing hostility from the indigenous people of India, were anxious to quit the country. As a consequence the last Viceroy of India, Lord Mountbatten has been accused of rushing the arrangements and failing to consider or make provision for several eventualities that proved disastrous later. Apparently, the Crown didn't anticipate large population movements from one side of the border to the other, though how this could be overlooked is a mystery given the primary motivation for Partition. Some 12.5 million or more people started the day on one side of the border and finished it on the other before the resettling was complete. In the process communal violence claimed as many as a million lives (estimates vary widely from "several hundred thousand" to "approximately one million".) The State of Punjab was the epicenter for much of this violence and was itself split across the border with part of the former province falling on each side of the "Radcliffe Line" (named for Sir Cyril Radcliffe, the British chairman of the Boundary Commission that settled the lines of demarcation in Punjab). By the time the India Independence Act took effect on 14 and 15 August 1947, the British had all but evacuated the subcontinent, leaving a power vacuum that sucked both countries into the first of four wars by the end of October. In the interim, bands of marauders routinely attacked refugee convoys heading from one side of the border to the other stealing from, killing, and in many cases kidnapping the women of their perceived enemies. These women were doubly doomed, since even escaping from their captors often left them with no options. Many families and communities considered them "dead" once they were taken, and only the lucky few were ever repatriated even if freed.
Clear of the murderous gang, Arjun stopped the lorry and set about repairing the shredded tire. Straining against the torque of the lugnuts, he regarded her standing watchful, the sepoy's rifle locked and loaded.
"Where did you learn to shoot like that?"
"I've learned what I've needed", she answered cryptically, "From whoever could teach it."
Most of the gang dived to escape the approaching juggernaut. But the gun-emboldened leader drew a bead on the windscreen. Before he could shout a warning Arjun stopped, staring at the blossoming red-black hole in the daciot's forehead. He turned just in time to see Anaamika eject the spent shell from the fallen sepoy's rifle.
Out of the woods to either side emerged a band of raggedly clad men, most armed with blades of one variety or another. Their apparent leader swaggered out of hiding last, a battered rifle propped across his arm. With more enemies than bullets, Arjun tramped the lorry's throttle aiming the bumper at the group's heart.
The explosive report snatched the smile from her lips in an instant. Her knuckles whitened on the door handle, expecting the worst. The lorry staggered to a halt, its left outer rear tire a shredded tangle of rubber. The driver, climbing down to inspect the damage collapsed in the dust, felled by an unseen assassin.
She felt strange, having this conversation was bringing on a sensation she vaguely recognized, but could not identify. It was pleasing enough, but somehow alien. And that strangeness made it somewhat unsettling. It was almost a full minute more before she finally realized she was smiling for the first time in far too many years.
"Achchaa" he replied, "so are you running now from the one who left the bruises I can see?"
"No" she answered, "one does not run from hyena shit."
His laugh was almost musical, and his hands clapped in rhythm to its tune. "Shabaash!" he managed to say, breathless.
"The hyenas also said that", she remarked.
Not anxious to explore the matter of his father, Arjun turned the conversation to her. "And what of you?" he asked, "Who hurt you so much?"
She started, her alarm obvious.
"It's clear someone did." Arjun continued, "The bruises are hard to hide."
"Some of them" she replied bitterly, "are all too easy to hide."
Her confusion was obvious, her interest more so. "My family are strict Brahmin" he explained, "And when I chose the army, my father himself broke my sacred thread and disowned me. To them I am dead."
"You? You are laawaaris?" she asked.
"Some say laawaaris, some even dalit." he replied, "I say I am Indian."
With a clash of gears the lorry lurched ahead, rocking the occupants backward, then forward again. Arjun cast a sideways scowl at the driver, then asked "Do you have family in Amritsar?"
"Not Amritsar or anywhere." she replied, "There are none left."
Arjun smiled grimly and mused, "In my family I am the dead one."
She'd shed her birth name, Vidya, along with all that tied her to her past, and as such "Anaamika" fit her as well as any name.
"Achchaa. I am Arjun", he replied. She hesitated, still unsure of his intent. Sensing her apprehension, he slid into the lorry first, allowing her the seat by the door.
Posts
All Comments
