Introduction
I am highlighting in this article some events pertaining to my hazardous journey from SINGAPORE (South East Asian Command) to PAKISTAN. The memorable events of those days (1947) also remain among my most precious recollections. I sincerely hope our learned readers will not be bored reading it.
A Letter from Home
During 1946-47 I was serving with my unit in Singapore. In the middle of November 1947. I received a letter from my parents that after a perilous journey from Ferozepur (our home town) they had reached Lahore to join my elder sister. They had crossed the river Sutlej opposite Sehjra and were penniless because of attacks by Sikhs and Hindu terrorists on Muslims they had to leave behind all their property and belongings to save their lives.
I immediately applied for leave and was granted one month leave by Col Seston who was my commanding officer. He managed to get me a seat on a ship (SS Aronda) that was about to leave Singapore for Madras. Officially I had already opted for Pakistan despite the fact that non-Muslim officers urged me to opt for India as my home town (Ferozepur) was part of India and also because our property was located there. However I refused and told them that Pakistan was my destination which had been won by Quaid-e-Azam for the Muslims of India and if I had to sacrifice my property to reach Pakistan, so be it.
I disembarked at Madras and was thoroughly checked by the custom staff. I had brought some expensive cloth for my family members, a radiogram and some other items plus a bone China tea set with golden rim. The custom officer who had cleared my luggage quietly murmured in my ears that he was a Muslim. I shook his hands and with heartfelt feelings also embraced him for his kindness and sympathy.
I was sent t the transit camp at Madras and told firmly not to move out. I had very little money but the Field Cashier who was a Hindu officer would not pay me any cash on lame excuses. I went to the main branch of the Imperial Bank of India and requested to contact my bank at Ferozepur for immediate transfer of my balance amount to Madras. I kept visiting the bank for the next one week but no amount was received by them. After waiting for another five days I visited the bank and to my delight a sum of Rs.700 had been received by them. In Madras the Railway Traffic Officer (RTO) would not issue railway warrant for me for traveling up to Bombay. I noticed that an Anglo Indian sergeant was also on the staff of the RTPO. During the lunch interval I contacted him. He was sympathetic and issued me to railway warrant and also booked my seat on the Bombay Mail train. As the Hindu RTO was watching the train by walking up and down the platform I managed to keep myself out of his sight by climbing down in the rear of the train which was getting ready to move out of the railway station. The reservation slip outside the compartment was in the name of some Hindu officer which I had given to the sergeant. In fact I had corrupted my name from Gilani to Gill – Col Seston used to call me Gill. As the train started to move out I briskly climbed the rear door and entered my compartment in which there was no other passenger. I thanked Almighty Allah and settled down for the railway journey which was about 24 hours duration. Since the mail train had a dining car I visited it for meals. I saw some non-Muslim army officers who tried to engage me in conversation to find out my destination. The badges on my shoulder indicated that I belonged to the 2nd Punjab Regt (now part of the Indian Army) and asked the name of my active battalion. Without hesitation I told them 7/2 Punjab (the Recce Battalion) which was engaged in fighting in Kashmir. Some non-Muslim civilians wearing dhoti were also present and some of them were unable to use fork and knife properly. A few months back I had visited a prominent 5-star hotel in India where the guard would not allow me entry without wearing tie, shoes and socks. But now the whole atmosphere had changed. Dhoti and kurta clad personalities were not the eminent leaders.
Enroute the train passed Nellore-Bellary-Belgaum-Poona and halted at Sholapur junction for about half an hour. On the opposite platform another train had halted and as indicated on its bogies, its destination was Jammu via Delhi-Saharanpur-Ambala-Amritsar. To my great surprise I saw Capt Khanna of my battalion (7/2 Punjab) and went over to meet him. He came down from his compartment, shook hands with me and we embraced. As time was short I asked him about his love affair with a girl of his locality; he smiled and said that she was his wife now. I noticed that two adjacent compartments of the train were full of military personnel. I pressed his hand – an indication to Khanna to find out about their destination and mission. He did not hide anything from me and said he was taking this draft to Jammu. He told me that Maj S.B. Raza of 7/2 Punjab had been killed while fighting against the freedom fighters of Kashmir. As the train guard blew his whistle we said goodbye.
When I had joined 7/2 Punjab in October 1943 in Arakan (Burma) Capt Syed Baqir Raza was the adjutant. He belonged to Lucknow – son of a Bar-at-Law (Mr. Raza who had married a beautiful British woman). I, as a Muslim tried to exchange friendly conversation but he gave me a cold shoulder and avoided participating in Urdu language. He was friendly with British officers and did not hesitate to eat whatever was presented to him by the waiter, who knew his taste of English dishes – forbidden in Islam. At the time of partition he had opted for the Indian Army and later some Indian officers, who I had met during the demarcation of the Cease Fire Line, 1948 told me he had been killed in Kashmir fighting against the Mujahideen. Raza had beautiful sisters. One was married to Col (later Maj Gen Pakistan Army) Majid but obtained divorce and married a Bar-at-Law (perhaps named Samad). His other sister was married to an Air Force officer but obtained divorce and married a former Punjab Chief Minister.
I reached Bombay and from there was sent to Kalyan transit camp situated 30 miles from Bombay on the Bombay-Poona main railway line. All Pakistani troops were concentrated for onward dispatch to Karachi by ship. During the last week of November 1947 I reached Karachi and on disembarking I bent down and kissed the sacred soil of Pakistan for which we also had left our property and all belongings behind in India.
After a hectic search for about six hours I was able to locate the new residence of my family members; my sudden appearance was a most pleasant surprise for them. My mother kissed my forehead, hugged me and showered her heartfelt prayers on me. Everyone was anxious to know my travel experience which I narrated briefly alongwith the hair-rising experiences I had and all of them thanked Allah for my safe arrival – needless to say that my journey remains a nightmare for me.
