It was early morning in the month of August 1947, I was playing in the backyard when I heard my dad shouting at my mom to stop what she was doing, grab me and run. I thought maybe they were fighting, and didn't realize what was actually going on. I left my toys and started running towards the bedroom but my father grabbed me and we hurriedly boarded the cab waiting outside our home.
It took us 12 hours to reach Lahore but when we got there, people were being massacred, they were killed brutally. I am not sure if they were Hindus or Muslims or paid rioters but people were dying. I still remember, my friend Rehan was killed in front of my eyes just because he was Muslim. Our driver was a Hindu but he refused to go further until we were certain it was safe, you see, I belonged to a Hindu family and my father did not choose to stay in India after partition but we had no other choice.
We could see the railway station, it was about a hundred meters away, but the driver wouldn't move any closer. We didn’t know what to do. Then some soldiers took us to a refugee camp. But my dad was a strong and a brave man. He fought with the soldiers and took the risk of going to the station on his own, I remember I was on his shoulders, still confused and horrified by what I was seeing. It felt as if it took forever but, finally we reached the train destined for Amritsar.
The train driver was a Muslim and he refused to leave for Amritsar without a police escort. We never thought we would ever leave Lahore, I still remember leaving all my toys just as they were when my dad came home shouting and then we left for the station a few minutes later. It all happened so fast.
After we boarded the train I managed to get some sleep. When I woke up the slaughter had already started and I realized I was on someone's shoulders. He was running, running terribly fast and I started crying. "Shut up or else you will be killed....." was the reply from the man carrying me. I realized he was my uncle. I could see bodies strewn everywhere. People were running in all directions. Nobody was interested in picking up the dead bodies, everyone was running for their lives.
"...where are my parents..." I asked. "They have been killed...and if you dont keep quiet you will also be..." I could see the wet trail of a tear that had just rolled down my uncle's cheek. I was shocked and could not speak. I just rested my face on his head as he kept running.
This post is part of the contest A picture can say a thousand words.. on WriteUpCafe.com