All in a Lifetime

By Akhtar

The story is related by a keen sensitive mind having experienced such diverse and seismic changes in the world around him. India under the British Raj, the second world war, Partition and huge population movement with horrible consequences. Moved to Scotland for studies. Vast changes in the surroundings and politics and education. Effect of the turmoil on the character and difficulty of adjustment. Taste of hypocritical life in Canada. Life in Saud Arabia. Life (Professorial) in Balluchistan and the Taliban. Finally settling down in Karachi with own hospital. Then very finally retirement.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Apr 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665588713

Akhtar

Born Allahabad India 1934, Indian Muslim parents, Father a prominent physician. Mother classical Indian home maker.

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© 2021 Akhtar. All rights reserved.

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transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  04/23/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8869-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8870-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8871-3 (e)

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Contents

Chapter 1     Childhood

Chapter 2     Migration

Chapter 3     The Voyage To London

Chapter 4     London

Chapter 5     Trip To Dundee

Chapter 6     Dundee

Chapter 7     Holiday In Karachi

Chapter 8     Snow White

Chapter 9     Return To Karachi 1964

Chapter 10   Canada

Chapter 11   Scotland The Great

Chapter 12   A Professor

Chapter 13   Saudi Arabia

Chapter 14   Return To Karachi 1991

Chapter 15   Retirement

About the Author

Chapter 1

Childhood

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T he end has to come to everyone. Hazrat Mohammad, Christ, Buddha, Changez Khan, Alexander the great, Caesar, all had to go and we all will be gone too. There are some lucky chaps who were supposed to have gone some time before they actually went. During this period of reprieve they enjoyed life, did some fine acts to boost the life of man. And there are some who should have gone but didn’t and spent a long time just wasting it, and making others miserable and when the final curtain fell they had nothing but misery to show for themselves. I have a story that places me in the latter category. I should have perished or gone in 1962, but lived till now, 2016, doing nothing but wasting time and opportunities and making others unhappy.

My story began in an ancient and holy town called PRAYAG (ALLAHABAD) in the north of Bharat. This ancient settlement began it’s life thousands of years ago. It is situated in the heart of civilised India where the two most revered rivers meet. The mighty Ganges (GANGA) and the pure and sweet Jamuna meet at what is called the SANGAM. This sangam has a very important and ancient history. Many of the Indian historical episodes have originated from this settlement. The formation of Indian culture and identity began here. The stories that arose out of the life in this community have given rise to some high points in Indian history. Even in declining ages this town kept it’s head way up in the air. The deepest period saw the British establish a very highly rated University and the High court here. A centre of learning of very superior quality, and a centre for political ideas of immense value took root here changing the face of the country and the world. The literary and poetic achievements are well known. Now an acting colossus has raised the flag in the film world. Land around there is gold. So productive that it has always been the main supplier of wheat, corn, lentils and fruit, especially the guava and the mango.

It is said that our elders came from Arabic stock with the conquers and were settled in these lands as a reward of their support. My father was a newly qualified doctor from the medical college in Lucknow, the capital of the province. His family were land owners and intellectuals. One of his uncles was a Judge at the high court. His father, my grandfather, was a lawyer. My father had nine siblings. They were mostly males and apart from being teachers, lawyers, landlords they were very keen in sports and had their own hockey team. This team performed very well in the local tournaments. My father was a good swimmer and was excellent at tennis. They were all avid hunters. As the custom dictated they all lived together in one housing complex. My father was in the provincial medical services and was transferred from town to town. At the time of my arrival he was stationed in Allahabad clinic, starting his career in the service.

My mother was only seventeen at her marriage. Her family was also big landlords and had many villages under their care. Her uncle was elected a Mayor of the Allahabad Municipality. He was very active in the political field and was a close friend of Pandit Jawahar Lal Nehru, the future prime minister of India. Nehru’s sister was a politically active girl, was a poet and used to visit our house quite often, talking and exciting the ladies of the family inviting them to action. However ours was a deeply religious and conservative family.

Allahabaad

I was born on the 30th of November 1936. These were British times. My father was soon transferred to a beautiful town of Hamirpur as the doctor in charge of the small hospital of the green and lovely little town. How my mother managed the house and me I can’t say but she did. There must have been an ayah to help her and a man servant to look after the house and requirements. In those days servants were familial and most reliable, honest and trustworthy. My father discharged his duties very diligently and was commended for it. He had shown his professional prowess at the medical college where he was rewarded with two Gold medals. He was also offered a post at the Agra medical college in the principal’s room at his medical college in Lachnow, soon after graduation.

Hameerpur

Hamirpur state was a very green and wooded area. The state was awarded to the NAWAB as a reward for hius efforts in bringing about resolution of the trouble during mutiny. The muslim nawab was a very liberal ruler and ruled his small (20,000 acre) principality with careful and liberal management. His grandson, Nawab Sikandar Shah, the present ruler, continued the tradition. The population was Hindoo in majoirity but were treated well and were quite happy. Nawab Sikandar kept a close eye on the welfare of the population and visited the hospital quite often. He kept an eye on the performance, and did not allow any shortage of medicines or staff to lower the standard of service. In those woods, extra precautions were taken. A small beautiful stream flowed through the town and the greenery was dense. The population was always alert to the presence of prowling wild beasts. One night a leopard was spotted and chased down into the rivulet, where he hid in the tall grass and bush. My father was a keen hunter and always had a gun at home. He was alerted and invited to come and deal with this menace. In the darkness of the night, the group took some flame producing sticks and brooms to make light. Two of them were brave and entered the ravine chasing the big cat out. The cat driven by the fire and the light and the noise tried to escape out of the bush through the opposite direction and was visible for a split second. My father shot him. The one bullet was found to have gone through it’s head. It was dead. Great jubilation took place and the doctor was praised to high heavens for not only being a good doctor, a good man but a good hunter. Attributes of a thorough aristocratic gentleman. Next day the leopard was skinned and the skin treated and presented to my father. That skin was with us for a very long time. We only lost it during our move to KARACHI after many years of the incident. Nawab Sikandar was so pleased that he awarded my father an honorary award, making him a prince of the state. That was ceremonial only, of course.

We enjoyed the glorious days of the countryside for two years. Of these I remember nothing. I am told I was a very organised and trouble free baby. I just needed my feed and cleaning up and play at proper times and slept at proper times and so I was no trouble. The only trouble I caused was to incessantly demand the possession of the moon. My mother never tired of relating this avarice of my character. This was the basis of my obsession and acquisition of good looking girls and clothes and cars and homes in my future life. Believe me there was a heavy cost to pay. My absolute reign was ended, they tell me, in the third year when my sister arrived. My mother had to go back to her mother’s house in Allahabad to have her. We stayed there until the little ‘flower’ as they called her was able to stand the rail trip to Agra, where my father was now transferred as a senior lecturer in jurisprudence, at The Agra Medical College. A post offered to him at the convocation on his graduation back at the Lucknow Medical College

Aagra

This was the time when colleagues of my father were getting on for their post graduate degrees ie F.R.C.S.; M.R.C.P. etc. My father was very busy with the medico legal matters and because of his love for his wife and children he could not tear himself for three years or so that it took for the attainment of these super degrees. And that he would have to go to England to get them. He did not go. He was very interested in Surgery, but he was doing great work in the medico legal matters and was what was called the civil surgeon of the town. He had duties at the hospital and the morgue and the legal rigmarole. I imagine this was interesting enough. Besides because of being at the centre of legal matters, ie murders, injuries in a fight, certificates of all kinds that he had to deal with he was considered the boss in town. This in itself led to specialisation and administrative initiative which would bring him fame and fortune. The future transfers were into big towns as fully in charge of hospitals and the office of the surgeon in chief of the medical system. In short he was working hard and was quite happy. So were we. Agra had been the capital of Moghul India and thus possessed fantastic imprints of the fabulous regime. The TAJ MAHAL was situated here and was a great source of pleasure to us and the population in general. River Jamuna flows along side and the beauty of the river and the banks is fantastic. I begin to get some flashes of independent memory here. I think I was four or five years old then. I remember playing in the garden of the TAJ in moonlit nights, catching glow worms and I still have the memory of the fragrance of the flowers of the garden. My father had many friends. I have distinct memories of dinners at home with very many guests. A large number of cream of the English and Indian bureaucracy, rich industrialists and business men, army officers and sports men cricketers and tennis players. My mother was very busy dealing with this social flood. She managed well and was quite happy. She also had a great circle of friends the wives in this group got together quite often. She never allowed this to interfere with her house responsibilities. Here again a baby arrived. This was a girl. This time mother just stayed in Agra to have her. My mother’s mother had arrived from Allahabad to look after the affair. Every thing went well and the baby arrived normally and settled in very well. I can’t remember the fuss about this birth and the follow up. My other sister was growing up and I remember playing with her some times. The toys and things the girls played with were quite different from those of the boys. She had her dolls, doll house, doll clothes and this and that. It did not interest me. I was most interested in football, hockey, cricket and tennis. Watching my father all the time. My main companion was a young male servant with whom I knocked about and made a nuisance of my self. This resulted in my admission in the top school of the town. In the kinder garden class of the St. ANTHONY’S Convent School, Agra. My memory of my school is quite vivid in sections. Of my home I only remember being attacked by a monkey who attacked me and grabbed my banana and before anyone could help me, ran off into the neighbourhood. There is also a memory of a dead monkey lying lifeless on the top of the boundary wall, blood streaming down the wall from its body. The story told to me later was this that that particular monkey had got into a nasty habit of attacking us and robbing the kitchen quite brazenly. My mother was fed up with him. So my father shot the thing with his gun. Now you know the monkey has a historical and religious significance of huge proportions for the Hindoos. Hanuman god. He is said to have rescued Sita from the clutches of Ravan. Now there was a hue and cry in the locality and protests were made about this. My father was in a bit of bother over this. Because he was an important functionary and a doctor and a good person, sane people brought the matter to a peaceful conclusion. The other excitement in my life at that time was my school. To get ready first thing in the morning and put on the uniform was very dear to me. The uniform was very dear to me. My shining white shirt and shorts, dark blue (royal) long socks (the hose) right up to my knees, strong, heavy, black, shiny, naughty boy, shoes, a blue and white striped necktie and a navy blue blazer with the emblem on the top pocket. Armed with a white crispy handkerchief, my hair parted from the side and pasted well to my scalp. I felt like a an angel the cream of the world. Very proud I was and this was done for me everyday. The reason for this fastidious behaviour was that all the pupils were dressed similarly. They belonged to the top class of the town. There were English French German and Indian boys dressed immaculately and so I had to be the same. The women teachers inspected us our hands and nails etc were also checked. A morning assembly with a prayer was carried out every morning. Then we were ushered into our class, play room and set to work and play and learn. In the learning class we had our small desks with a chair and we took out or books learning and reciting the material. If any of us made mistakes the teacher would come over and teach us in very sweet language how to do it. I don’t remember the face or the name etc of my teacher, but I used to love her. Thinking back now I imagine she was about thirty or so. She smelled just so super. She would come down saying nice things to me and bend over on my desk to show me how to do things. As she bent down, her voluptuous breasts would be hanging right in front of my eyes, in her open neck blouse or frock, and I could not take my eyes off the gloriously curved, throbbing pulpy objects. The fragrance was all the more attractive. At that age I can’t have had any significance in my brain of the things but I was fascinated, I remember to this day, very clearly. The other thing I remember from the school was the lunch table. We used to take lunch in a tiffin kind of box. At lunch time we were taken to a long room with a long table and benches for lunch. We all laid out our food on the big plate provided and ate our lunch. It was so stylish to eat with the knife and fork I remember very clearly a plate next to mine with a frog spread out on the plate. I can’t remember whose it was and what happened with it, nor that I went sick or was horrified. I remember the hour of bed rest after the meal. In a large hall little cots were laid out in neat rows with clean white sheets on them. We laid there and rested for one hour. After that we got up, washed our faces and were set to learn from games and nursery rhymes etc. A bus took us home. There I took off my uniform, folded it and hung it up neatly. I remember with fondness our green Opel car. It was a beautiful thing and I believe it was a 1936 Capitan. There were not many cars around then and only the top people had them. People did not have confidence in these machinery. I used to wish I could drive the thing. My mother was set to learn to drive it. But on one of her excursions she nearly killed a policeman and knocked a telegraph pole down. There was a small dent in the front bumper. She never attempted the exercise again. Another thing that she did was to try to learn English. A teacher was engaged to teach her. This was a very proper, young, respectful, teacher from a school. He was a very nice person. He was about thirty five or forty, years old, very proper in his manners and respect for my mother and very punctual. Always on time, well dressed in the traditional long jacket (sherwani), well groomed and clean shaven soft spoken, and almost apologetic in his dealings all day. The man was a fine example of the old civilisation. However I was very jealous of him. I could not bear the fact that he had my mother’s attention the dining room table for one hour each day. The aya took care of the girls but I was left to my devices. And these were very varied and not all nice ones. This teacher used to ride a bicycle. This he parked out side the house when he came in to teach. He also hung up his sherwani on a hook in the verandah before entering the room. I used to try and hang about to be a sort of a guard to my mother. But I was bored and chased out now and then. He would even give me a pencil and paper to sit there and do some sums or draw. This was worse. It used to go out and deflate the tyre of his bike. When he came out to go home he found no air in one of his tyres, he would slowly walk his bike to a cycle repair shop and get it blown up again and ride off. He never complained about it. I did that many times but got no satisfaction since he did not complain or stop coming. One day the devil really got hold of me. I put my hands in the pocket of the black long coat hanging out there. I took out all the change (money) from there and not knowing what to do with it just buried it in the ground just out side the entering door of the house. Having done this dastardly thing I went and hid in my bedroom. Now this was too much. He had no money to go home. He had to ask my mother that he is missing some money from his pocket, if any of the servants knew anything about it. He was so apologetic as if that was criminal of him to even think of such a thing. My mother had the male servants on the carpet right there and questioned them very severely. If the master had not interfered the young boy who used to play with me would have got the stick. None of them knew anything about it. And said so. One of them, very apologetically suggested that if she would ask me, since I am usually hanging about there. I was no where to be found. Finally I had to be drawn out from under my bed and hauled up in front of my raging mother. I denied it all to start with. The master did his best to shield me, but my mother knew looking at my face that I was the culprit. She threatened me with severe beating if I did not own up and deliver the money. Tearfully I owned up and showed them where I had hid the loot. The money was recovered. The master took me up in his arms and wiped my tears and soothed me as much as he could. He even asked my mother not to be too severe on the little master. He then went away. There I was alone standing in front of my very angry mother. She told me that she will give me to the police and that I will be sent to jail for the rest of my life. She also sent me to my room and to wait till father came home and then we will see what can be done with me. Needless to say I was scared out of my skin and cried and cried apologising regretting, but my mother was really mad. When my father came home he was informed of the incident. I was hauled in front of him with my mother standing behind me still furious. My father was very serious and asked me why I did that. I had no answer. He asked me what was I going to do with the loot. I had no answer. He said to me that how can it be that there is a thief living in his house. What is every one going to say. What will they say at the school. How can he get along having a thief son. Well he said ‘take the clothes off, we will take you to the orphanage and leave you there.’ I thought I will die. I was sent to my room and made to take my clothes off and given some pyjama and an old fashioned shirt and I was taken to the car where aya and the girls sat behind and I was put in the back. My mother and father sat in front ad we drove around looking for an orphanage. I can still see myself in utter misery standing on the seat in the back, my head hardly touching the roof, crying and pleading and promising never to do such a thing. We drove around then stopped at a shopping place. My mother and father got down and did some shopping that they had to do. When they came back after about an hour or forty five minutes, The aya pleaded with them very sincerely to let the little baboo go this time he will not do anything like that again. My mother looked at my face and asked me if that is right? I agreed and promised never to touch anything of any one. My father then said OK then next time you will be out. Life came back in my heart. That misery never visited me again except once when I lost my love many years after that. At home both my father and mother hugged me and kissed me and rehabilitated me. The meal went seriously and I was able to get some sleep. Next day I went to school but the enthusiasm was a little diminished and my heart was scared just in case anyone came to know of what I did the day before. It took me a week or so to get back to normal. My mother gave up the learning of English. She never learned it. I think we were very happy in Agra. After two years of the last baby (girl) a new baby arrived. This was a boy. I remember seeing him for the first time all wrapped up in his fancy new clothes. Such a small thing amazed me and I remember wondering if I was that small too. My mother said ‘yes. Every one is small when born and then if they drink milk properly they grow to be big’. This baby was different. He was very noisy and caused quite lot of trouble if he got upset. He seemed to be upset quite a lot, day or night. We all were fascinated by him. The girls were always fussing around him. I wanted him to grow quickly so I could play with him. The two girls played together peacefully but I had to get friends from other families to come and play with me. I was often left alone for long periods specially on Sundays. We were not allowed to play outside of the house compound. Nor could I play with the servants or their children or the unsuitable neighbours. So I had to spend quite a lot of time with my school books and drawings etc. I was therefore quite good at school. At school there were periods of games and we were taught cricket and football by our sports teacher. This was a man. An Indian man. He had been a well known hockey player in his day but now in his fifties he was our coach.

The people at school and the general public were not at peace. Things were not going well at the war for the British. A lot of British soldiers were seen around going to this or that war. We heard the women teachers discussing various things about the war and that perhaps they would have to be evacuated. A lot of Indian soldiers were sent as well. We had trouble related to the car. This car was German and was banned from import and there were no spare parts available for it. Any how my father found mechanics who could find parts from cars abandoned by German people who departed for Germany. So our car kept going. It was an excellent stylish car.

Meerut

My father was doing very well. As a reward he was transferred to MEERUT. This hospital was much bigger and the post was higher of the Civil Surgeon. A city quite near Delhi, nearer the Himalias. The 1857 mutiny had started from this town. It was a very nice town. It was good sized place. My father was appointed chief surgeon and in charge of the hospital. This was a great promotion. He was the boss of all medical services in the area. We were given a large bungalow next to the hospital. It had a large ground, lawn and a well of it’s own with a system of two bullocks that went round and round all day, turned the mechanics and the water poured out. There was a lot of water. There was a small water collection area with brick walls where the water collected from the well. Then it was channelled to various parts of the four acre property. The lawn was huge. There was a large and ancient Peepal tree beside the well. People came to pray at the tree. We were given a gardener who looked after the lawn, the flowers, the vegetables and the lot. He worked very hard and had the place looking like a park. The bungalow was huge. We all had our own rooms and bathrooms. The rooms and the attached bathrooms were quite large. There was a maid that looked after the house inside with my mother and a house boy who did the tough things and things outside. We also had a watchman who was always alert and never slept a wink at night. He was about fourty five years old and tough as nails. There were quarters for the servants at the back. A barrack, clean and comfortable. They had their families there too. In those days the Hindoo-Muslim difference was not so vicious as now. We all lived side by side doing our own thing. Unfortunately there was no convent or a good English school. So I was put into a government high school. These schools were very closely monitored and were quite good. But had no proper uniform and frills that I was used to. Pupils came from all walks of the society, dressed as they pleased in pyjamas and lungees. I always wore my shorts and was the focus of jokes but I did not care. There was not a single woman teacher. All were male Indian teachers. I got used to all that. There was much more fun and less discipline. English was the teaching language but hardly anyone was good at the language and they hated it. I was very good at it and loved it. I used to read a lot of English at home. My father was good at it and taught me a great deal. I was now fairly big and had grown boys as friends. We played cricket and hockey at school. Since there was such a lot of room in our house I used to invite some friends to come and play with me on Sundays and holidays. Life soon settled down into an enjoyable affair. Since the hospital was next door and there were some junior doctors on duty, my father had more time for us. He was called out at odd limes bur not so often. There were many beautiful spots around Meerut and we were often having picnic outings in the hills and the river or the pools. There was no shortage of fruit, vegetables and fish. There were lots of freshwater fish, but we used to go for the beef, goat, lamb and chicken. My parents used to entertain a lot. Many English officers used to come and stay with us. My father was very friendly with many muslim and Hindoo citizens, Their ladies used to come and provide varied and colourful company for my mother. The woman working at our home was a great cook. She made wonderful dishes. She and my mother was a renowned combination. We had been in Meerut for about a year when another baby arrived. This one was a boy too. But this one was big. He screamed a lot and was the number one enemy of milk. He would drink all the milk given to him and ask for more. So he grew fast and well. So we were five now. How happy my mother and father were. The friends would come and play with us and other families felt very comfortable at our place. It seemed that the war was coming to an end with victory for the British. We were all happy at school. There were jubilations and the place was decorated with buntings and processions with the British flags were taken out. Our house was next door to the Municipality town centre and large gatherings used to take place just across the wall from our home. They used to shout and scream and make such a din. There were now more demonstrations demanding the British to leave and go home. The muslims used to protest demand a muslim state after partition. There were fights and and appeals for peace from leaders. This was very disturbing. We at home and in our circles were very unsure of the capacity of our own people to run a government without the British guidance and control. Anyway the leaders were engaged in negotiations and manoeuvres. In the middle of all this the order came through for my father to go to Kanpur and take over the very large hospital there. The city of Kanpur was a large industrial city and the hospital was also very large and busy. This was a big promotion for my father since up till now only English surgeons were appointed to this prestigious post. We left Meerut with tears in our eyes. We had a very nice time there. The people of Meerut also bade us a tearful farewell. In Kanpur a lot of people came to welcome the first Indian doctor in charge of the hospital and civil surgeon.

Kanpur

Kanpur was large and very busy and rich town There were many textile, leather, wool and wood industries and factories there. It was dusty and dirty. It was situated on the river Ganga and that part was just gorgeous. The government school was very superior. It was much larger and built well. There were three large playing fields and was an older school with a lot of history. Again there was no uniform and pupils came just as they desired clothed in their pyjamas and lungees. The headmaster was a very strict man and kept the school under proper discipline The teachers were all male but he recruited well qualified young graduates and products of the teacher’s training college. The standard of education was therefore much better. The school did well in the yearly high school exams every year. There were greater opportunities for games too. There was sports master in charge. We were encouraged to use one hour of school time every day to play football or hockey and on some days cricket. I played all these. We were also encouraged to come after school and play our games until sunset. I took a year to settle down here. The boys were very normal but in each class there was one bully that used to keep us nervous. Since I was the son of a high official I got more attention. I had to complain to the headmaster. However the confrontations outside the school time was not comfortable at all. I was not very muscular nor was I the fighting type of person. Some of these bullies were in the same class for years. I had to complain to the councillor to get some relief. After the first year I got a bit strong and faced the stupid bullies and was then left alone. The other thing was that I plaid all games and even in the early classes I was playing cricket, hockey, football and some tennis for the school. This carried a lot of weight since the teachers at school and the headmaster gave me more respect, and were available to me. Again our home was next to the hospital and was a very large bungalow. There was the usual quadrangle in the centre and the rooms were built round this. Large rooms and bathrooms a large kitchen with a large compound. Very nice and comfortable. We had a full complement of servants. My mother brought a large she buffalo from Meerut. This creature was so productive that she gave so much milk that my mother was able to make butter and cheese and smoked milk etc and then from the cream she was able to make sweets. Our house was again in the middle of town. There was a large congregation park right next to out home. All the big demonstrations, protests functions and religious dramas and speeches were held here. Almost every other day there was something going on. The big Hindoo festival of Ram Leela were held here. At the end of ten days a large effigy of Ravan and other villains was burnt there with a lot of fireworks. We used to watch from our roof. Most entertaining. Political demonstrations were also held here. When the Congress people held their rallies their volunteers would guard the congregation The police was also present to keep control on things. The muslims held their rallies and their volunteers kept an eye on things together with the police. Quite often fights would breakout and knives were used to hurt the opponents. This had become routine. The British decided to quit India and because of lack of understanding between the two groups the sub continent would be divided into a muslim PAKISTAN and a hindu India. The areas where the muslims were in Majotrity would become Pakistan and what will remain will be INDIA. This did not suit the Hindoo majority and they protested. Fights broke out and riots took place in many cities. Innocent people women and children were massacred by both the Muslims in areas where there would be Pakistan and the Hindoo radicals perpetrated the same atrocities in all the town of India. Loud appeals for peace and cessation of this animal behaviour, by the leaders fell on deaf ears. This brought about a transfer of population from one area to another buy both communities. They left their possessions, houses, land, businesses and fled across the border to the side of their ethnic (religious) affinity. It was a vast exchange. Large number of people were killed in the process. This started a year before the partition and went on for a year after it. We had no desire to move. The Hindoo community people came to my father and assured him of full protection and advised him to stay.

Sushiela

In the middle of this upheaval I acquired a girlfriend. She was a lovely Hindoo girl, living opposite our home. AS it happened, like it happens all over the world, it was love at first sight. I saw her going to school wearing a most colourful costume looking like a small fairy. And our eyes met and said whatever they say. This how it began. I perceived an acceptance I began to wait at my gate for her to emerge from her door with her shapperone/nanny. I would then follow her to the place where she would turn and give me a look and disappear into her school. That look was full of a whole life for me. I did not know how or what the look said but I was dependent upon it like an opium addict. We set up a system of communication. My friend would tie up my little notes to small pebble or stone and arrange to walk in front of Susheela as she walked. He would drop the stone at an opprtune moment. She would pick it up as she walked over it nonchalant She would take it with her into her school and read it. Then on her way home just drop the reply tied on a stone, which was picked up by my friend quite fearlessly. This happened twice a week. You might wonder but believe me it worked for a long time. The little notes from her were like lifeline to me and if I did not get them I would simply die. My notes were dry and short on thrill and romance. Her notes were small but were full of sweet love and expressions of total commitment. This made me smile all day and some people did remark ‘what doctor why are you smiling so much?’ how could I say that my heart was flying up in heaven and so I smile. She was a petit and lovely real girl, yet only twelve or thirteen. The fact that she was a Hindoo and I a muslim seemed not to enter the equation at all. If this attachment became known we would both be for it or even beheaded. She did not care. I was now getting ready to prepare for my final school exams. She was a year behind me. I was sure we were going to be staying in Kanpur and so something will be worked out for us. I went on merrily swinging with her in this love breeze. I did not have brains anyway. I expressed a desire to talk to her in one of my notes. She wrote in good English that there will be a Maharaj Ganesh festival on the banks of the Ganga on Friday night and if we were there we could at least say hello. My friend and I planned to go there early and case the set up and take advantage of things as opportunities do occur. We dressed up like the Hindoos and put on a saffron long shirt each. We waited for some darkness to settle in and the small decorating lights to come on and then we entered the big temple dedicated to Ganesh The place was packed full of people men and women all mumbling prayers holding garlands of the saffron flower. Bhajans (religious) songs and chants filled the air. Burning incence smelling strongly in the air. We parked our selves at the entrance which was quite wide and there were some ten steps to go up to the main floor. We had been standing saying our prayers and looking out when my friend saw her coming up the approaching road. She was accompanied by her mother and father and sisters and the nanny. He stepped forward to show himself. She saw him and smiled as she spotted me. She slowed down her pace and managed to veer to the right just on the fringe of the group. As they climbed the steps she slowed down more and finally as they entered the main door into the throng she fell behind. My friend insinuated himself between her and the group separating her in the crowd. I stepped forward and grabbed her right hand. She turned and grabbed my hand too and squeezed it even more firmly, and came very close to me in that pressing crowd. Our bodies met and her arm pressed against my chest. I grabbed it and held her. Very soon her Nanni came back looking for her and grabbing her hand pulled her away from me. We hung around for an hour but never got another chance. She gave me a look or two through the crowd but soon they had done their bit and they took off and disappeared. We sat on our bike and slowly cycled home. I was in a trance. The feel of her soft lovely hand and fingers, the feel of her arm against my chest her sweet voice her beautiful eyes a little wet. and her words were all going round and round in my head. I could not sleep that night and kept wanting to climb into her house and grab her. I got up and wrote her a proper letter. I told her of my eternal love for her and described my condition to her and said I could not live without her That I will love her for ever. This was delivered by another method since it was too big. It was put in an envelope sealed and given to the school aya before anyone arrived at the school She was given one rupee to give it to SUSHEELA. And when she gets it the aya will get another rupee. This was all done by my friend. It all went well. The aya lived next to my friend’s house. This was very convenient. I received a most moving and thrilling reply to my letter. This became regular. It was as if we were meeting every day. I got to know her quite well and I am sure she got to know me well too. We were both very young but the hearts were running away too fast for our good. We enjoyed it all very much. She awoke in me feelings of a male human much earlier than perhaps they should have been. She seemed to be maturing fast and was way ahead of me in thought and working out ideas and things that we would have to do and must plan for, now. Upon our Hindoo-Muslim problem she was clear. She will run away with me and convert to Islam just for my sake, (when the time came). First we will have to get our high school exams, then I will have to become a doctor. She will go to the teachers training college and become a teacher of good quality. We will get married in five year’s time. We will not have children until I have become a doctor and be standing on my feet. And then she will have four children two boys and two girls, all at two years intervals each. We will give them good education and support. When they are all set we will retire to our village in a small hamlet and spend time in prayers and such good activities. And when the time came God will call us back together. This she planned at age fourteen. She wrote to me all this in instalments obviously as things came to her mind. I was stupid and was amazed at all the plans. I was worried about my exams and about being caught. She was not worried about it at all. She said caught or not she will never forsake me. I on my part the only important thing I wrote to her was this that I did not want her to convert. I liked the Hindoo girl and a Hindoo she will remain. I told her that the Hindoo girl I had was just perfect. She was beautiful, wore fine colourful dresses, went out to school on her own, had free thoughts, was not hung up on religious showmanship. She just wrote that it is up to me. Whatever I wanted she will do. These letters brought maturity to my thoughts. It took some time to write these letters and the thought that came and went with them, but still I could sleep well, was happy inside myself and could devote myself to studies. This was July and my exams were in June next year. So I had a bit of time. They were very serious at school. I used to play cricket for the school’s first eleven. And I was good at it. We played matches with local teams, schools etc. This was a junior league and was reported in the papers. My exploits were sometimes were good enough to be mentioned in the paper’s sports page.

When Susheela saw these mentions she used to write well done to me in her letters. One day we were playing a big game in the large Green park against a tough college team. This was a Sunday. I had written to her that I will be playing. She wrote good luck to me. She didn’t say anything else. On the Sunday I was fielding deep on the leg. There was group of some girls sitting and giggling etc, Suddenly I heard a familiar sound saying ‘Aye Baboo, play properly, we are watching’. I turned around to see who it was and my eyes found my Susheela sitting there and smiling and laughing. I was thrilled. I could not believe she managed to come to watch the game. There were other girls and a single shaperone. They had drinks and food etc with them Apparently a group of them came out for a picnic. She watched the whole game and watched me bowled for a duck. There was a loud scream and laughter from the group and I read about it in the next letter. In the next week I was told to come to another school some distance from her school at about two p.m. So I skipped my school and my pal and myself got to that school in time. It was a big school and we had to walk around the garden to find the area where we were supposed to attend. My pal spotted a collection of girls at a window on the first floor. Soon enough Susheela appeared and waived to us to wait. My friend scaled the fence and got under the window and waited. In two or three minutes she came to the window, looked down and found him waiting. She showed a brown packet and waived it as if to throw it down. My friend cupped his hands, She dropped the packet. It was quite hot as it landed in his hands. He quickly ran to the fence and scaled back over it and we examined what it was. It was a pack of freshly made chips of corn flour. Hot and fresh they were so yummy we finished the packet and waved it back to say it was finished. But we did not get any more and we came back home very happy for the adventure. In her letter she told us that there was cooking competition that day and that was one of a number of juicy things they had to make. She won the potato Bhaji bit of the competition. I wrote ‘well done’ to her and demanded to have a bit of that too. She actually made a very’ delicious potato bhaji and wrapped it in a tin and sent it to me through the usual rout. It was very tasty. And I wrote to her compliments. This had made me very proud of her. She wrote to me that that is not the only thing she can make. She listed many dishes and asked me to ask for any of them and she will send it. Me and my friend sat down and decided to ask for some okra or Brinjal. We got a marvellous pack of okra bhaji. It was so nice that I took some for my mother saying that it was made by my friend’s mother. She was most impressed. In a week’s time we got the brinjal bhaji similarly cooked fantastic. I gave her full marks. I asked her if she would cook some meat if she had to. She wrote back saying she is not experienced in beef cooking but she would make some chicken and mutton, which they sometimes cook at home. I was relieved to read that.

Life was getting along sweetly from day to day as time to move on and to put our program in place. As fall approached there was the Hindoo festival of Dasehra. The Rawan and his coterie were burnt and all fistive ceremonies took place. During one of these services at the Rawan mandir I got near my Susheela and held her tender hand for a few minutes again and was able to blurt out some words which she replied in shy words and ran away as her nani was after her. The nani gave me a dirty look this time. I was now a marked man or a marked boy. This was the season for cricket. I played a lot of it and was named captain for the next year. My father was very good at tennis. The tennis courts were next to our house and I used to watch him play every day in the afternoon after work and I liked to play when the senior folk were absent. This court was visible from Susheela’s home. From the balcony of the first floor she could watch it and many times I saw her watching my wayward attempts. She was chased away by her Nani to go in the house and not stand there exhibiting herself. I was now big enough to wear trousers instead of shorts. My father got a nice white pair made for me. I was very shy to be wearing them. Soon I got so used to them I would wear nothing else. When Susheela saw me in the trousers for the first time she turned around and gave me a second look and smiled. She wrote in her letter that it looked very fine and I now looked like a full grown man, a doctor. She had also graduated into wearing sarees all the time and looked grown up too, It was a fine time of life. This winter she knit for me a full sleeve blue sweater. This was given to me through the usual channel. I had to say to my mum that my friends sister knitted that for me. I used to wear it with great pride. I liked to wear a dark blue jacket on top of it in winters cold mornings. This reminded me of my old uniform and I felt so fine in it. Susheela wrote to me that I looked like a real sahib and fine in the combination. I can’t describe to you how lovely she looked in her sarees. She never wore one colour twice in one week. And always sober colour combinations. She really out did everyone on their festive days, which were many. These Hindoos are a jovial and colourful lot. Only if there was not so much bad blood between the two faiths. The tensions were still quite strong. Even in Kanpur there were instances of killings of muslims. Lot of people were running away to Pakistan leaving their belongings etc. There was a vast influx of immigrants from the Pakistani Punjab uprooted by the Pakistanis. They had come with only the clothes on their backs. It was very sad. There was a vast opinion that now that there is Pakistan all these muslims should go away leaving the possessions here so that the immigrants could settle into these properties. These Hindoo and sikh immigrants were often found roaming the streets, finding muslim shops, houses and businesses spreading harassment and fear. The government was very sensible. They desisted from encouraging any such sentiment. They did not want the muslims to go away. They made arrangements for the immigrants to get a place for business and a place to stay and gave them money to get on.

The parade ground that we enjoyed so much for our festivities, rallies and meetings was made the centre for this rehabilitation programme. Wooden cabins about ten feet square were built all round the ground. The gates were left clear. The whole areas handed over to the immigrants. The tension kept growing. There was the police patrolling all the time. The politicians also spent a great deal of time and money to try to smooth things down, keep the peace and get on with business. Our path to our schools was through the south side of this Parade centre. With a lot of disgruntled persons there, it was getting dangerous. I got a bicycle from my dad. I used to cycle through rapidly. Susheela had to walk. She did not have far to go. I used to wait for her to come out of her door exchange a nod and then go our ways. There was a bunch of houses in an enclosure where all the residents were muslims. That is where my pal used to live. It was very close to the Parade ground. There were some hooligan muslims there who foolishly used to behave badly and provoke the sikh people and this was like a stack dynamite sitting there waiting to be ignited. Some times my friend could not get out. The aya was also confined at times. Our communications were disturbed somewhat. We had two guards, policemen, set upon our gate to discourage any attack etc. My