INSUBCONTINENT EXCLUSIVE:
Two sisters handed me a piece of paper that was faded and yellow
On it were typewritten words from their father
He had died in the 1990s and his final request had been for his ashes to be divided up and scattered in three different places: the Punjabi
village in modern-day Pakistan where he’d been born, the River Ganges at Haridwar in India, and by the Severn Bridge in England
These three places made up his life, from displacement to India from Pakistan during partition, and then his migration to Britain
He felt he belonged in each one of them, wanting some part of him to remain, in death as in life.Five years ago, I started collecting
testimonies of the people in Britain who lived through the tumultuous events of partition
I quickly realised it was not a story from far away, but one that was all around us in Britain, with a continuing legacy.The division of
British India along religious lines in 1947, into Hindu-majority India and Muslim-majority Pakistan, resulted in the largest migration
outside wartime and famine in human history
As people found themselves a minority in a new country, an estimated 10-12 million people moved across a new border, leaving homes that had
been lived in for generations
About a million people were killed in communal violence
More than 75,000 women were raped, abducted and forced to convert to the “other” religion.So many families in Britain have a connection
with partition, as those who migrated from the Indian subcontinent in the early postwar years were largely from places disrupted by it
They came to rebuild the country and their own lives
They arrived with those memories, which were rarely spoken out loud
But in 2017, during the 70th anniversary of partition, that silence began to break.I travelled across Britain and was told shattering
I met a man with a 70-year-old scar indelibly etched on his arm from a poisoned spear
I cannot forget the sound of anguish he made as he explained he was left for dead, and almost died, as a mob entered his village
I listened as an elderly man sounded almost childlike as he described the horrors of waking up on a train platform full of dead bodies
A woman talked of overhearing her uncles planning to kill all the girls in her family to save them from dishonour, such was the fear of
Her grandmother talked them down
So many stories like these had largely been hidden for decades, by people who live among us, and who still have nightmares from that time
And we never knew.But the partition generation told other stories too, that they want remembered
Of a people who lived side by side for generations – Muslim, Sikh, Hindu – with languages, food and culture in common
There were deep friendships; they would share each other’s sorrow and joy, irrespective of religion
One man told me how a Muslim woman from his village breastfed his Sikh cousins after their mother died
What could be more intimate? There were accounts, too, of friends and strangers transcending hate to save those of the “other” religion
One man told me that on the day a Muslim mob killed his father, his Muslim neighbour saved his sister and 30 other Sikh girls by sheltering
them in his home.Now, that generation wonder out loud if they will ever visit their ancestral home before they die
Will they ever see the childhood best friend they never had time to say goodbye to? Does a favourite tree they climbed up still stand?What I
never imagined when I embarked on these interviews was that the legacy of partition in the UK could be so varied and complex
Trauma and fear can be passed down, even in silence
But so too can that lasting tie to the land that was left, even if no one returned
Sometimes that attachment is tangible
I have seen descendants who keep earth in a jar from Bangladesh on their fireplace, or who wear a pebble from Pakistan around their neck
every day, or who cherish a saved heirloom from India – all places their forefathers left 75 years ago
These objects are often their only connection to that time and place
It is proof their family once existed in that land too, and it is meaningful to these young people today.Muslim refugees prepare to flee
Photograph: APIn all this time, the border has never been able to erase this history, memories or emotion
And in the five years since the 70th anniversary, there has been a quiet awakening to this hidden past among the descendants of those who
For some families, that has meant gaining a new understanding of the very word “partition” itself, and how their elderly relatives were
For others, it has been the realisation that the beginnings of their family story can be traced to another country entirely, across a
border.I have seen descendants with earth in a jar, from a land their forefathers left almost 75 years agoMany of those who contacted me to
share their stories were third generation
They wanted to know their history beyond their ancestors who came here
They asked: “How do I question my relative about their past if the subject has never been broached before?” Others said: “I wish I had
asked while my relatives were alive.” They must now find other ways to delve into their history
All around our country, these inheritors of partition are trying to piece together their family’s past: starting conversations with family
members, visiting archives, educating themselves on their history, doing DNA tests and, in some cases, even returning to the land long
fled.The writer Elif Shafak notes that it is the third generation descended from immigrants who dig into memory: they have “older memories
Their mothers and fathers tell them, ‘This is your home, forget about all that.’” For the people I spoke to, identity, in all its
complexity, matters.Of course, these are not just personal stories within families – they are part of our shared history
That’s because it was a British border, drawn to divide British India as the British empire started to be dismantled
Subjects of the Raj came to Britain and are its citizens, and multiple generations live in these isles in their millions today
Partition, the end of empire and the subsequent migration to the land of the former colonial ruler, could not be a more British story –
one that everyone needs to know and learn about
Yet, it is not a compulsory part of the national curriculum in England
In Wales, Black, Asian and minority ethnic histories will become mandatory teachings from September.As we approach the August anniversary,
it is always bittersweet: joy at independence, but sadness at the loss suffered, which endures
A few days ago, I was emailed by a daughter to say her father, one of my interviewees, had died at the age of 92
A reminder that our link to this time is dwindling.Seventy-five years on, in Britain we are all the inheritors of partition and empire
We must decide what to do with this inheritance; decide what is remembered and what is forgotten
The legacy will live on in ways we do not yet know
It happened long ago but, somehow, I feel we are only at the beginning of coming to terms with it – both within families, and in Britain
Kavita Puri is the author of Partition Voices: Untold British Stories, a new edition of which is published on 21 July
Her documentary, Inheritors of Partition, will be broadcast on BBC Radio 4 on 8 August at 9am and will be available on BBC Sounds
This article first appeared/also appeared in theguardian.com
