The train had already crossed Saharanpur. We had left home at dawn and it was noon. We weren't on a train we were on the ship of history. That is what made the journey from Meerut to Lahore the longest journey. We were in between the dusk and dawn of history. Half a century later, it seems to have been the moment when two eras met and parted. Where will the train stop? And will it move again, if it stops? The train is running through the most frightening night and the passengers are quiet like statues. I look back and see a crowded train rushing past lively and desolate towns and villages, under a bright sun, and in the dark of night. I have no definite answer to questions about why I migrated from India to Pakistan after the partition in 1947.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |