Mrs Gurdial Kaur’s story

Further Info

This story is part of Independence Stories and was made in a 5-day workshop at Easton Community Centre with members of the Asian Day Centre. The workshop focussed on the personal “Independence” stories of Bristol based people from South Asian backgrounds, reflecting life in India and Pakistan, and the legacies of partition.

The workshop was led by Bristol based digital animation artist Tajinder Dhami, Aikaterini Gegisian and Paddy Uglow from the Bristol Stories team, with extra support by Nathan Hughes.

Independence Stories was produced by Asian Arts Agency in partnership with Watershed, Bristol Stories, Asian Day Centre and Images of Empire Archive, and was supported by Awards for all and Quartet funds.

Transcript

I was five and half years old and we were near Lahore. It is Pakistan now. It was all India then. My dad was in England, that time.

It was bad luck for us. We were caught in the war. All the people had a brick and they had red chilli and oil and salt, everything to get together on the roof. The people come with the knife because we were an Indian group. It was quite a big group on the roof and when they came we started throwing the chilli, stones and oil and salt and they fight back. In the morning we decided to go to Punjab in India. One of my brothers… my mum gave somebody 500 rupee - my mum had a lot of money - they had transport and she said “Take my son. If I live you give it to me, if I don’t then you find my father in law and give it to him.” When he was going we got separated from my mum. All the army truck come and my uncle he picked up my mum and she throw her in the truck and he throw the baby as well. And me and my brother and my uncle, we can’t catch that truck. My uncle got a donkey from somewhere. They had two big bags and he put in one side me and in the other side my brother. And as soon as we walked a little way, we met a Muslim priest and he said “All my brothers, they would have killed the kids and you. If you trust me, you come to my home. I will look after you and when it is safe then you can carry on.” He buried us, literally, in the hay. They got the swords and they started poking. We were so scared we couldn’t even speak. When they were gone, he took us out. He gave us tea in the morning and he walked with us a little way. He looked around and he said “It is safe now. You can take the children.”

Over there is a big river. The river was bursted and all the water was everywhere. That group called my mum - they said we have to go, we’ve got little, tiny boat. But my mum said “I am not going because of my two children and my brother in law.”

Then she called two boys, she gave them 100 rupee – at that time it’s like 1000 rupee (nowadays) – and she asked them go and find my children. They went couple of miles out and they found us. We got in the boat to Punjab.

There was a train standing with lots of people on the roof and there was no place. Luckily my uncle was a very big man: he jumped on it and he pulled us up. The railway line was busted and the train was going about ten miles and stop, 5 miles and stop... We stayed three days on the roof.

A sugar cane farm came, everybody jumped. Then we had a sugar cane. Three o’ clock in the night that train came to Ambala cantonment. It was so dark and so black. We did not know where to go. We waited until sunrise and five o’clock we started walking. We did not know were we were going, asking every person we met my father’s name, my grandfather’s name. After 3 or 4 hours we meet somebody and they said this is my mum’s mum and we will take you there. Everybody was crying and everybody was happy as well. After 3 months we found out where my grandfather was living in Patiala. When we found our grandfather, we lived in the “mesit”, everyone had a room and all the family was living in one room. Then, afterwards, my other uncle found out because we survived and then he came from [???] to Padiala and then he says to my mum “Your son is safe. Somebody gave it to us so we are looking after him.” Then we went to [???] and my uncle had a house. Then we started getting things together.

When my when father found out we were safe, he went to India, 1953. My father came back to England and we came after in 1957 in England. The war I can’t forget. Me, my brother and my mum, we all survived, four kids and my mum. Whenever I see war it really hurts me because when you have been through it you know what other people are going through.

Credits

Indian archive pictures created by Images of Empire, used under copyright licence.

Family pictures created by Gurdial’s family, used under copyright licence.

Sourcing and or creation of images not specified created by Tajinder Dhami, used under copyright licence.