Beautiful Tales of Lives | ✔️

Tears of Sindhu

      (FORGOTTEN LOVE STORIES OF  THE PARTITION)

"In the midst of chaos and cries, fired  bullet after bullet. Panic, fear, cries,and threats can be seen everywhere. People running here and there, praying to god that this shouldn't be their last day. Houses and everything on the streets are falling apart and being burnt just like many lives out there. Families are broken trying to escape, save themselves and others if they can. No one ever thought this day would ever  come never. A girl who is merely eight holding a little baby who seems to be her sister ran towards the station which is near trying to save her only family left with her- her sister. In this cruel underworld war she lost her parents and relatives. She made it to the station and immediately climbed the train which was on the track. Everyone there seems to be panicked and worried. No one knows whether they should  be happy that at least they escaped and saved their lives or sorrowful for the loss they witnessed with their own eyes. The girl tried to calm her crying sister, but there was no food on the train. All had barely survived the three-day journey to India."

Gasping hard, I woke up due to the nightmare I had. Sweat all over my body and the panic attack making my body shiver. I could feel the chills over my spine. Gulping the water  beside my table I took deep breaths. Slowly I got up and saw the time; it's four in the morning. Nightmares, these are the nightmares I've  had since I was a child. Years have passed since that incident. The aging lines on my face and the scars on my body and my survival is the evidence for the brutal and lethal war I'd escaped. The emotion in the heart which had melted into tears had evaporated into thin air due to the stubbornness, passing time had taught me. Today is the 15th of August. Seventy four years it's been, seventy four painful years, seventy four years I'd escaped from death, seventy four years I lived in grief, seventy four years I'd last seen my mother, seventy four years my mother land had ripped apart and divided into two, seventy four years my hope had been seeded in my heart and still will be.

The partition of India and Pakistan killed many lives, tore apart many families and haunted many hearts  till today. The history of this is not carved with letters of gold or silver but written with blood of innocent lives, courage of brave hearts and sacrifice of bodies filled with patriotism. Never have I thought nor dreamt in my dreams that there would be a day I would not be able to visit my land- the land I was born, the land that taught me to live, the land where I lost my family, the land that abounded me, the land I left behind. My one and only wish is to visit my land for one last time before I die...