At 6:00 pm every evening she would wear all of the remaining jewellery she had and wear the same dress and tie her hair the same exact way. She had been doing this for as long as I could remember we had to call her exquisite or she wouldn’t talk to us for days .I always thought of her as a little unbalanced and I would say it in a mocking voice but now I understand why she would. She missed that life .She missed the compliments the attention the fame the fortune all of it but who wouldn’t.
24th/March/1947
Things are getting worse. All the Muslim families in the area are leaving .All our servants had left us and the few that were left kept talking about how we would be forced to leave the area .Surely we wouldn’t leave of course we wouldn’t, my family has lived on these very grounds for hundreds of years. My father is one of the most respectable men in these areas.Infact he was the reason most of these people had jobs. Of course none of them would care that we are Muslims why would they. My mum had hired most of these women as her servants she even helped several of them get married. I had seen these people all my life they always gave me the outmost respect and why would that change because of some petty war?
25th/June/1947
I could see the heavy clouds move rapidly across the dark and threatening sky. An unclear shape was struggling against the furious wind the shadow was getting closer and closer .I went and hid behind the sofa hoping whoever it was would think no one lived here and leave. But as usual that was not the case the shadow continuously knocked on the door until I decided to muster all the courage I had left and open the door .I tried to look like I was not scared but in reality I was petrified .My grip on my father’s old rifle got stronger .I looked up hoping whoever it was, was not as scary as I imagined them to be it was my old Hindu gardener I could see the pain in his eyes. His voice sounded all torn up when he told me ‘’Do you really think I would ever hurt you, I have held you ever since you were born I heard your first words, He couldn’t continue his voice was getting lower as though he was choking. I went with him. My trust on humanity would have been shattered if an angel in disguise wouldn’t have helped me escape from that horrific place.
There were so many things I never knew about her yet I had visited her small cosy house almost every weekend since I had been able to crawl. However there was one thing most of us knew but never thought it would have affected her so much. Her moving from India to Pakistan at the time of the partition .It was a lot more traumatic for her then we had known. I could only imagine how scared and sad she would have felt to leave her beautiful mansion and move to a completely new country with almost no money. I remembered how she always kept all the doors and windows of the house opened and she would often yell at us for closing them. I would normally giggle and think she was crazy and walk away but now all these habits and quirky things she used to do finally started making sense to me.
26/June/1947
So many unanswered questions that I would not live to hear the answer of .I didn’t not think my life could have gotten worse than leaving my beautiful house. I thought of it as the most painful moment of my life .After all what could be worse than being forced to leave the place you called your home, where you were born and raised ;played and dreamt.
However destiny had its own plans for me. I guess this is what happens in when leaders decide to divide nations in the name of religion. In instance families, relationships, dreams are all shattered, our innocence is robbed and we grow up faster than we are meant to. It’s just mass murders; innocent people like me caught within the cross fire. I am sitting under a train seat cramped and alone. Too scared to even move or talk in fear of being caught. Instead of being in the comfort of my beautiful house wrapped up in my blanket on my cosy bed having sweet dreams. I wonder if anyone will ever know that there was this girl who was hiding from the heinous war, underneath a train chair too scared to be seen; another gunshot interrupted my chain of thoughts. The gun shot was followed by a deafening scream. Another death, soon it would be my turn. I huddled even closer and tried to take as less space as I could. I was drenched in sweat, starving but I did not care I just wanted to live to be able to get through this.
Their footsteps were getting closer. My heart started pounding in my chest. Panic bubbled through my throat as they opened my carriage door and started looking around. I clutched the handle of the train chair and tried to hold my breath as my pulse was racing. One of these men carrying a sword stood right in front of me, I could see his boots, The blood froze in my veins and I realised this was it. This is where it all ends. Maybe they would just shoot me or would they slaughter me. For a moment I wished they would just shoot me, I could not imagine having a sword go through me and be left there to die painfully
I wonder if it hurts.
Would it be a quick death?
A painful death
I didn’t know
I wish I didn’t live in this period of time. I wish my life didn’t depend so much on these strange sadistic men who killed everyone on this train.
I wish I could do something to stop all of this
Suddenly they started walking away; their footsteps could now only be heard in a faint distance.I sighed a sense of relief I was spared.
The 14th of every month full moon…My grandmother would scream all night tell us to be quiet as she could hear the soldiers in the distance. She would sit in a corner and rock back and forth telling us they were gone. My sisters and I considered my grandmother a stand-up comedian. But now I feel so bad, no one in my family ever took my grandmother seriously even though she was beautiful with her oak green eyes which could pierce through your skin. Her thin lips were always red as a rose and she took good care of herself, in fact at times She seemed like your everyday grandmother but then , the closer you got to her the more you realised how unearthly she was. Just like a fictitious character arrived from an 18th century classical novel. She was a very introvert character who preferred staying secretive mysterious and most of us just thought she was a drama queen who craved attention.Infact until before I read this diary that was what I thought. But now I realised how strong this woman actually was. I regret not taking her seriously and thinking she was a lunatic. This diary revealed an entirely new character that was hidden from us. This part of her life was a closed book until I had read this diary.
“The Mad Hatter: Have I gone Mad?
Alice: I'm afraid so. You're entirely bonkers. But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are.”
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