Journey
of life
In
his own words
I
was born to Mata Ram Kaur ji at S. Kartar Singh ji’s house in Banun district,
tehsil ‘Lucky Marravat’ in 1934. My birth place was Banun that was a part of
the state of Sirhind (Frontier) that had six districts. The rest five districts
were – Hazara, Mardaan, Peshawar, Kuhaant and Dera Ismail Khan.
In my childhood I went to our village primary
school. It was with God’s grace that there started emerging in me a poet. At
times I uttered such phrases that my friends playing with me were so taken
aback and they enjoyed listening to them.
The
state of Sirhind was such where the Hindu and Muslim lived together peacefully
and they were all so full of respect and love for their religion. That is why
every child took it upon himself as his duty to go the gurudwara twice a day. Every
child wanted to listen to Rehras Sahib being recited and chanting the Aarti
loudly. The child, who did not go to the gurudwara was not taken as a good
child.
I too became a part of a group of children
and without fail I daily recited Japji Sahib and with much eagerness listened
to recitation of Rehras Sahib and chanted Aarti. Playing, studying and
observing daily Gurbani routine were the things that were a part and parcel of
my childhood.
After passing out from class fourth from
Khalsa primary school, I took admission in Government High School. With God’s
grace I remained a topped there also, due to which I was as always made to sit
in front only. I was receiving affection and encouragement from each of the
teachers and the head master.
Things were sailing smoothly with love and
encouragement, when something happened. The country was divided. There were
four of us in the family – mother; father; sister Sujan Kaur, who was two years
elder to me; me and one younger brother – younger brother had succumbed to the chicken
pox two years back. I must have been around twelve years old when India’s
partition happened. The announcement of the formation of Pakistan had still not
been made but Suba Sirhind witnessed dacoities, fires and murders in every nook
and corner.
The partition of the country had been
effected on the basis of religion. Leaving Laki Maravvat was very painful. I
was not attached to this place just because it was my native land, rather I had
a host of other memories too associated with this place. I used to go to river
Gambhila to bathe there daily. The river was known by two names – the place
where it originated it was called ‘Tochi’, but at our place it was referred to
as ‘Gambhila’. Further ahead this river joined the Sindh river in the Indus
valley.
After bathing in the river, I used to sit by
the river side and recite Gurbani. I still cherish those wonderful days. There
used to be handpumps at our homes from where we could draw out water. In case
we required a larger quantity of water we used to draw it out from the river
and then needed an ox or the small horse to carry the load home. Hence, a large
number of people went to the river to take a bath. I too went there in the
morning and then after reciting Gurbani for a while there, I came back home and
after having breakfast, took my bag, and then after paying obeisance at the
gurudwara reached Khalsa Primary School. Bhai Pairhha Singh was the headmaster
of the school, who was a very religious-minded man. His affectionate behaviour
still fills me with fresh vigour and courage.
Finally I had to leave my native place. I
secretly wished that we would be able to come back to my place of birth after a
few days. But that was not to be. We reached Delhi after a few days and from
there we were sent to Alwar in a train.
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