A Journey to Pakistan by a Punjabi , 40 pictures, & love for Yuvraj Singh from Karachi

May 15, 2006

Namaskar Mitra,

A dear friend visited his ancestral home during the Indo-Pak cricket series of 2006. Read his story and see pictures of Lahore, Multan and Karachi cricket stadium including Maharaja Ranjit Singh Samadhi. The last pic has a Pretty Karachi girl who asked my pal to send love to Yuvraj Singh.

1. A Journey to Pakistan By a North Indian Punjabi - or read article below.

http://www.esamskriti.com/html/essay_index.asp?cat=772&subcat=771&cname=journey_to_pakistan

2. Pictures of 'A Journey to Pakistan' - http://www.esamskriti.com/html/new_photographs.asp?catid=73

with prem cheers sanjeev

A Journey to Pakistan By a North Indian Punjabi

Most Indians trace their roots to a village or a city. In some cases their surnames reflect the village they come from for e.g. Sachin Tendulkar comes from Tendu village or Parkash Singh Badal comes from village Badal. Born of refugee parents who migrated from modern day Pakistan, I have no village to call my own. This made me wonder! Would I ever get to see our ancestral village?

My dream of seeing our ancestral home was fulfilled in 2006 when I visited Pakistan during the recent one-day cricket series. Mom was initially apprehensive about letting me cross the border but relented when she heard of a cousin who had undertaken a similar trip last winter.

Next question. How was I to find my way in Pakistan since I did not know a soul there! From mother I got the name and phone number of the people who stay at her ancestral home in Sheikupura. My father in law connected us with a senior High Court judge in Lahore and another advocate both of whom had been his guests in Delhi recently. A dear friend from New Zealand connected me with an email pal in Lahore while another told me what to see.

My wife insisted that we fly from Delhi to Lahore although I would have preferred to go through Wagah border.

We traveled on a PIA flight and so began to experience Pakistani food and hospitality the moment we were airborne. The lady at immigration was friendly and efficient for us particularly when we showed off our ease with Punjabi. We did notice that some others (including returning Pakistanis of visibly humble origins) didn't seem to be sailing through as smoothly. As we drove to through the streets of Lahore at night my first impression was that of a majestic city, a blend of traditional and modern, cleaner and better maintained than what we'd usually expect in the Indian sub-continent.

The heart of Pakistani culture lies in the 2000-year-old city of Lahore. The city is many things - the City of Gardens & Flowers, the City of Music & Art and the City of Festivals amongst others. Historical monuments include - the Shalimar Gardens, Lahore Fort and Badshahi Mosque etc. It has three well-known bazaars, the Mall (modern shops), the Anarkali Bazaar named after the court dancer who was the beloved courtesan of the Mughal King Jehangir and the Kashmiri Bazaar in the walled city area.

Our first place of visit was the Lawrence Garden Lahore. My wife's mother told us that after Shalimar gardens the Lawrence Garden is the other most famous large public park/ botanical garden. Trees labellened with their origin from the new world to East Asia to Europe. We left Holiday Inn early morning to Bagh-e-Jinnah which is the new name for Lawrence garden. It was a misty, cold February morning with a few walkers for company. The garden has a majestic looking white building that reminds you of the White House in the U.S. As I jogged saw a cricket match being played between youngsters dressed in Pathan suits and knickers enjoying what is clearly the favorite game of the Indian sub-continent.

Our next stop was Shalimar Garden. We were not allowed beyond the entrance gate as the entire garden had been ploughed through for replanting and renovation. Once the staff got to know that we were from India they were reluctant to let us in as if the reputation of the garden were at stake. Instead our driver Murtaza took us across the road to the walled off entrance to a huge tunnel which he claimed was capable of taking four wheeled vehicles all the way across the border to India. According to him this tunnel was used during the 1971 war. It seemed like a far-fetched tale but we'd rather not argue with Murtaza.

Murtaza was an interesting person. For starters he claimed to be Punjabi. As we got closer to Mutlan he said he was Multani and spoke Saraiki, the local Punjabi dialect spoken in Multan. Next he said his family came from Ramyarkhan. Although technically it is in the Saraki region of Punjab it is closer to Sindh and Baluchsitan. By the time he was to leave us as we departed for Karachi he said 'I am a Baluchi'. For the next hour or so he cribbed about the sad conditions of Baluchis in Pakistan.

Thanks to networking with friends and relatives, from knowing no one in Lahore we had to now juggle our time to meet numerous invites. We first met a spiritually inclined & unconventional man by the name Shakil. After learning about his spiritual experiences the only word I had to describe him was 'Sanatani Muslim'. Out next stop was the Lahore Gymkhana where our host was a senior Justice, a descendant of a medieval Rajput ruling clan. After experiencing the propah, still preserved English colonial culture of Lahore gym we left for Sheikupura district, my maternal ancestral home.

Thanks to the Justice, a police escort took us to the state guesthouse for high tea at Sheikupura. Here we met Jehangir Chowdhary who lives in Sheikupura in the very home in which my mother was born. My mother's home consisted of two bungalows; one where Choudhary resides today while the other has become the police station of Sheikupura. These two identical kothis (bungalows) were built in the early 1940's by my maternal great grandfather Sardar Harnam Singh. They were known in Sheikupura as the Kwala family after the name of the nearby village where their lands were. There also known as the Chittikothiyawale because in the 1940's both these houses were white. My mother was born here in 1944. At the age of one, one Basant Panchami day a half-wit Uncle accidentally tossed my mother from the roof of this kothi as he excitedly chased a kite. The doctors said her survival was a miracle and named her Bhagat Prahlad ever since.

As I wandered round the home my mother's voice echoed through its walls. Seeing me get emotional Chowdhary said that had I come in 2007 there would have been no Whitehouse but a shopping mall instead.

I recalled the story my grand father had told me about crossing to India in 1947. My mother's half-wit uncle never made it to India. When violence erupted in August 1947 my Nani and her children were on holiday in Simla while the men folk were at Sheikhpura. When they realized they could no longer stay in what suddenly become Pakistan they left carrying only clothes & tins of gold coins. They had been warned to travel at night on foot and hide in fields during the day. Young half-wit uncle could not be trusted to keep quiet when they were hiding and so he was left behind in Sheikhupura to a fate that shall forever remain unknown. My Nana and the other men folk walked across the border to Delhi in October 1947. They started life afresh in a one room tenement arranged my paternal grandfather. Years later, in 1963 this friendship was solidified through the marriage of my parents.

As I sat in Chowdhary's drawing room drinking warm milk he said that this milk was from the best cows of Sheikhupura, brought and bred by my grandfathers. Chowdhary added, "Our family is from Hissar and moved here in 1947. We were zamindars there too hence the title Chowdhary. And along with this kothi were also allotted many of the lands in Kwala that belonged to your fore fathers." One of the old policemen began talking so fondly of the Kwala family that I had a distinct feeling that his father had been a retainer of our family.

We left Sheikupura to return to Lahore by night. The next day we visited the samadhi of Maharaja Ranjit Singh and Nankana Sahib, the birthplace of Guru Nanak. We met some devotees from Gurdaspur there.

My paternal grand parents came from Sahiwal. Before coming to Pakistan the only thing I knew about the origins of the clan was that my grandfather was the first to start using our surname. My great grand pa was simply called Sardar Hukam Singh. We hailed from a place called Montgomery after the English lord. I also knew that in modern day Pakistan the town of Montgomery had reverted to its original Punjabi name of Sahiwal.

In the two days that we were in Lahore two separate groups in Sahiwal were asked by our newfound friends to research the origins of my family. We were welcomed in Sahiwal by Chaudhary Amir a leading businessman of Sahiwal and his friend Chaudhury Qadir. Both of them knew about the homes of my great grandfather Sardar Hukam Singh. They showed us the home that my great grand father had built in what is today known as Sahiwal's Old Civil Lines. After 1947 the home became a hostel for college going girls. They gave me pictures of the time when the property was so used. After 1965 the property became the office of the evacuee property authority. A few years ago the entire structure was demolished and parceled off into bungalows for the local elite.

They also told me of my great grand fathers's old home where they believed our family lived for generations. We are also told of two villages in old Sahiwal district that bear the name of my great grandfather Kothukamsingh, to this day. In the Sikh mohalla, the locals took us to what they called a Gurdwara. The structure was constructed in 1947. As we observed it closely we saw word OM inscribed under the dome, which was inscribed Hindu Satsang Mandir. Being one of the taller structures in the locality it was now being used by the local administration as an office of the civil defence agency.

It was now time to be handed over from one Chowdhary to another. That is when we had a first hand experience of the feudal mindset in Pakistan. All this while I was receiving frantic calls from the other Chowdhary who was also expecting to host us in Sahiwal. When Chowdhary Qadir overheard my conversation with Chowdhary Saleem Khan he bristled at the idea that there was somebody else in Sahiwal who was expecting to host us. It was then that the rigid intricacies of a still very much feudal rural Punjabi Pakistan dawned upon me. Anyway after the two Chowdharys spoke with each other we proceeded to Chaudhary Saleem Khan's house for what had become a very late lunch.

As I was being driven to our next host I reflected upon our few days in Pakistan and realized that while the well to do and elites in Pakistan have everything that they could ask for in life, the vast majority of people still seemed to be living in a fairly poverty stricken condition. The contrast with India was stark. Here we still have large numbers of people in poverty but a large vibrant robust middle class has emerged who whilst not being elite; rich or feudal nevertheless were far away from being penniless. A few days in Pakistan suggested that a similar social transformation had yet to take place there. Feudal landlords, military officials, industrialists and politicians make up the elites of Pakistan who between them control all power and assets leaving the rest of the people at the bottom of a very steep pyramid.

Laws existed only for the masses; the elite do not need to obey any law. Officially liquor is not served in Pakistan but in an ultra exclusive Lahore club it is possible for local Muslim Pakistanis to be served. The impression we got is that what matters is who you know not what the law is.

Our next stopover was Karachi. The Pakistani fans take their cricket very seriously. They sing patriotic songs all through the match and expect their team to win every time. People of all ages turn sullen and shed tears when it becomes clear that the team is going to lose. As we occupied mixed stands we made it a point to cheer both the teams and told the Pakistanis to enjoy the game and let the better team win.

Contrary to stereo projections the modern young Pakistani women could be as modern, liberated as modern women anywhere in the world. I refer of course to the elite classes only. A young lady we met at the stadium is a die-hard Yuvraj fan and insisted that we somehow or the other reach her pictures to Yuvraj Singh. We also met a young boy, son of a Pakistani big businessman who was very keen to visit India, particularly Bangalore. The 14 year old insisted that we come home and meet his father. Their favorite dinnertime conversation was that Pakistani could make economic progress only after it made peace with India.

I left Pakistan with deep feelings. The primary objective of the trip had more than been fulfilled. What gave me a high was the discovery and pilgrimage to the birthplaces of my forefathers and Guru Nanak. I will always remember the trip for my personal engagement of Pakistan, the perennial bugbear of India; for the warmth and hospitality of the Lahori Punjabis; the rustic charm of the feudal lords of a Sheikupura and Sahiwal; the hustle and bustle of commercial Karachi and the arid badlands of rugged Balcuchistan.

I came away with the feeling that lines drawn by maps cannot separate peoples whose destinies are intertwined by a shared history, geography and culture.

July 10, 2007

A Journey to Pakistan By a North Indian Punjabi

Its me Haroon Rasheed from Islambad, I am a saraiki speaking Pakistani from Dera Ismail Khan, prior to partition there were lot of Hindus residing in my village and in wake of partion they migrated to India.

My father a school teacher use to tell me stories of his Hindus class fellows and nighbours.

My request is that any body help me in locating those people , i have complete list of those Hindus and their professions.

Could any body held me in this regard.

Haroon Rasheed

cell: 0923465048145(as dialed from india)

July 10, 2007

A Journey to Pakistan By a North Indian Punjabi

Its me Haroon Rasheed from Islambad, I am a saraiki speaking Pakistani from Dera Ismail Khan, prior to partition there were lot of Hindus residing in my village and in wake of partion they migrated to India.

My father a school teacher use to tell me stories of his Hindus class fellows and nighbours.

My request is that any body help me in locating those people , i have complete list of those Hindus and their professions.

Could any body held me in this regard.

Haroon Rasheed

You may contact

sungtti@

cell: 0923465048145(as dialed from india)