A special train left Amritsar at
two in the afternoon and reached Mughalpura after eight hours. En route many
were killed, injured and some went astray in the mayhem.
10:00 AM. Sirajuddin lying on the cold ground
of the camp, opened his tired eyes. The swelling sea of women, men and children perplexed him. He kept
staring at gloomy sky for a long time. There was havoc all across the camp, but
Sirajuddin’s ears were blocked. He couldn’t hear anything. Anyone seeing him would
easily conclude that he was lost in deep concern. But it was not so. His senses
were numb. He felt consumed by a void.
Browsing aimlessly at the gloomy sky
he glanced upon the sun. The piercing rays woke him up with a jolt. And in a jiffy, many an image flashed in front of his eyes: loot, fire, stampede, station,
bullets, the night, and Sakina. Sirajuddin got up suddenly and, like a lunatic, started
frantically searching through the vast sea of women, men and children. For over
three hours he looked out for Sakina but he couldn’t find his young,
and only daughter. There was chaos all around him: someone was looking out for
his child, while someone was looking out for his mother, and someone was
looking out for his daughter.
Tired, Sirajuddin sat in one
corner and tried hard to recollect when and how he parted from his daughter.
And every time he tried recollecting, his mind would take him to the disemboweled
corpse of Sakina’s mother. He was not able to think of anything further. She breathed
her last in front of him saying, “Leave me! Take Sakina and go away from here!”
Sakina and Sirajuddin ran barefooted. On the way, her dupatta fell off. Sirajuddin stopped to pick it up but Sakina
protested, “Abbaji, leave it, let’s
go!” But Sirajuddin stopped to pick it.
Lost in this thought, he put his
hand in the pocket of his coat and found a cloth: the same dupatta. But where was Sakina?
Sirajuddin tried hard to recall
but was unable to come to any conclusion. Did he get her to the station? Did
she board the train with him? When the train stopped en route and the rioters
got in, did he fall unconscious? Did they take Sakina along?
Sirajuddin had countless
questions, no answers. He needed sympathy. But so did every human being around
him. Sirajuddin wanted to cry. But his eyes would not cooperate. His tears dried
up.
Somehow he regained his senses
after six days. Sirajuddin finally met people who could help him: Eight young volunteers
(razakaars). They had a lorry and
guns. Sirajuddin blessed them a million times, over and over again and gave
them a description of his daughter. “She is fair, very beautiful, just like her
mother. Around seventeen years old, big eyes, black hair and a big beauty spot
on her right cheek. She is my only daughter. Please find her. God will bless
you.”
The young razakaars assured Sirajuddin that if his daughter is alive, she
will be with him in a few days. The eight razakaars
tried their best. Risking their own lives they went right up to Amritsar and safely
got back many men, women and children. Ten days went by, but there was no news
of Sakina.
One day, for the same work, the razakaars, were on their way to Amritsar. Near Cherat they saw a girl by the road. Startled by the sound of the lorry, she began to run. The razakaars stopped and all of them ran after her. In a field, they managed to catch her and noticed that she was very pretty. She had a huge beauty spot on her right cheek. “Don’t be scared” said one of the young men, “Are you Sakina?”
Her face became pale. She did not
answer. It was only after the men reassured her, did her terror vanish. She
accepted that she was Sakina, Sirajuddin’s daughter.
Eight razakaars tried their best
to comfort Sakina. They gave her some food, some milk and sat her in the lorry.
One of them took his coat off and gave it to her because she was uncomfortable
without her dupatta and was unsuccessfully
trying to cover her breasts with her arms.
Days went by. Sirajuddin had no
news of his young daughter. All day he would run from one camp to another, one
office to another, all in vain. All night he pray for the success of the young razakaars who had assured him that if
Sakina were alive, she would be with him in a couple of days.
One day he saw those young
volunteers in the camp, sitting in their lorry. As they were about to leave, he
ran to them and asked, “Son, any news of my Sakina?” They all said as if in one
voice, “We will, we will”. Sirajuddin once again prayed for their success and
felt a bit relieved.
The same evening, he noticed some
commotion in the camp. Four men were bringing in something. He soon found out
that a girl was found unconscious near the rail track and that the men had got
her here. Sirajuddin followed closely. The four men handed the girl over to the
hospital staff and left.
For some time Sirajuddin stood by the fallen wooden pole outside the hospital. And then with slow steps, he went inside the hospital. There was no one in the room. There was a stretcher there with a corpse on it. With small, hesitant steps, Sirajuddin went close to the corpse. Suddenly, the room lit up. Sirajuddin saw a beauty spot on the pale face of the corpse and cried out “Sakina!”
The doctor who had switched the
lights on asked with a rather stern voice, “What’s going on?”
All that Sirajuddin could say
was, “I… I am her father.”
The doctor looked at the corpse
on the stretcher, checked the pulse, and told Sirajuddin “Khidki khol do!”
(Open the window).
There was a slight movement in
Sakina’s lifeless body. Her lifeless hands loosened her shalwar and dropped it.
Old Sirajuddin whispered loudly, “She is alive! My daughter is alive!”
The doctor was drenched in sweat
from head to toE.
.jpg)
