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WHILE REDEEMING MY SOUL: Chapter 3 - The Stained Saga

Updated on August 18, 2011

To read the synopsis or to read about the characters, locations or any other detail of this short-story with a bird's view, click the following link:


Every necessary detail is in there. To read the previous chapter, click:


Chapter 3: The Stained Saga:

There was complete calm in Raja Sansi while events were fast moving towards partition. In March 1947, there was a fire in a shoe store and clothing store at Farid Chowk in Amritsar. This was the start of riots in Amritsar, when 25 Muslims died. On July 19, 1947, the first attack on Raja Sansi occurred spearheaded by Sikh Makhan Singh with a group of other Sikhs. This outside group came on horses armed with rifles and swords. Makhan Singh was a notorious rogue from a nearby village.

In Raja Sansi, Muslims were in majority at around 60% while Hindus and Sikhs constituted the remaining 40% of the population. They all used to live peacefully and side by side and were performing the role of perfect humanity above all differences. During the attack, they all helped each other for the sake of humanity. The lords of the village Sardar Raghubir Singh and his son Harinder Singh assured Muslims of Raja Sansi to stay and not to worry about their safety. They were kind hearted and benevolent men, but as the tension increased, Muslims started to migrate to seek refuge in Muslims’ majority areas, because all were aware of the fact that the time for the great partition was drawing near. My father, Mr. Rehaan Siddiqui along with his sister and parents also accompanied the caravan of refugees. They took the necessary food items and other supplements and started to travel to their land - the result of the enormous and immense hard work of many great leaders and amazing personalities - Pakistan.

The tension was still there in their minds, but no one was actually able to anticipate what was coming towards them. The caravan of the refugees was ambushed and raided by the Sikhs and the Hindus. The riots were actually started all over the country, and the whole south-east Asia was burning into fires and blazing flames. People were dying, people were burning, that truly was a horrible moment to see, and no one would like to witness such an event. It was way below the level of humanity. One could easily experience the barbarian side of a human being, that was, cruel, brutal, atrocious and bloodthirsty. That fight was obviously one sided. The caravan did not have any weapons with them, but they did fight with all their hearts and fought valiantly, but of course, with not much gain. When my father woke up, he found himself blended along with hundreds of dead bodies. Luckily he fainted and survived somehow. Some people were fled and ran towards the camp that was made on the outskirts of Amritsar, in search of aid and safety. He decided to move on towards his destination, and to find his family as well, as he was not able to find them after the attack. He moved forward with great courage, without any help, food and safety; vulnerable to attacks, unarmed and alone.

He knew he must reach the camp in order to find them, as the whole village was travelling towards it. With hope in his heart, and the proud feeling of independence in his mind, he continued his journey. Watching those blazing flames all around him must have been a difficult task for him, but he was aware of the fact that he could not stop himself to keep going forward, because death was all around him. After some horrendous and frightening days, he finally managed to reach the camp. Without wasting much time, he started to look around but what he saw was even horrifying from all which he was been through. People were brutally injured, cruelly left in front of death. Children were crying as they were not able to find their mothers, and mothers were frozen numb, while sitting beside their sons' dead bodies. He found no sign of his family. His parents and sister were still missing. The tension and the horrifying feelings were increasing as the time was going by, but suddenly he saw a man which was his neighbor in Raja Sansi. His name was Ibrar Hussain, and he was breathless, staring at his son's dead body. The raiders burnt him alive. Ibrar knew what my father was searching for.

Chapter 4: An Interlude Serenity:

(You can read the 4th Chapter from here)


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    • Hunbbel Meer profile image

      Syed Hunbbel Meer 6 years ago from Karachi, Pakistan.

      @Homesteadbound: Indeed. Death is inevitable, and to see those people dying, with whom you are in love with, is an extremely difficult thing to do and when you know the fact that you cannot do anything to save them. You can just watch them dying.

      It was just a little effort to portray some tragic feelings. Thanks for your comments :)

    • homesteadbound profile image

      Cindy Murdoch 6 years ago from Texas

      Again, I liked your use of words, such as "cruelly left in front of death". It's almost like being in front of a speeding car. You can see it coming, and you know it's inevitable. Really good use of words.

    • Hunbbel Meer profile image

      Syed Hunbbel Meer 6 years ago from Karachi, Pakistan.

      @SubRon7: I am glad to know that you have such vast knowledge. I am very much impressed :)

      And those events were indeed horrible. It is just a mere effort to put some light over patriotic and humanitarian issues with my story.

    • SubRon7 profile image

      James W. Nelson 6 years ago from eastern North Dakota

      Yes, very bad events, Hunbbel, how people who once lived in peace could turn on each other. I remember in school learning about the partitioning of India into India, West Pakistan and East Pakistan, and today India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. Unfortunately, the events you have described are still happening around the world.

    • Paradise7 profile image

      Paradise7 6 years ago from Upstate New York

      This is just so sad!! I wish I could help these people.

    • profile image

      Binaya.Ghimire 6 years ago

      Reporting true events of one of the deadliest events in the world history. I have read about this in fiction and non fictions, and again reading in your story. I appreciate your attempt.