Writer Mehar Rafi wirtes a story about Nafeesa Bano, published in The Friday Times.
Her familiy lived in Islamganj, Delhi. She narrates her story of how her family escaped Delhi.
After Partition, what started mounting was the fear: it had become impossible to sleep at night. Riots had begun. There was just senselessness. If children were sitting in a tonga, a passing Sikh would kill them all without a thought. There’d be showers of blood, slain bodies. We seldom went out.
One day, in the upper portion of our building, one of the daughters of that family – she must have been 16 or 17 – nearly jumped off her balcony. Her mother held her just in time. Fear. We were told tales of girls jumping into wells on their way to and from the newly divided land. So many girls suffered. As a twelve-year-old, all I remember is the fear – I’m talking about the sound of killing…and being killed.
The Hindus and Sikhs were killing there, the Pathans were killing here – kisi ko koi poochne waala nahin tha (who to hold accountable?)
A young Hindu couple and their toddler waiting at the Lahore railway station – dragged out, killed, thrown in the street…