My dear departed father in law hailed from Chottogram (Chittagong) in Bangladesh. His father was a school master there , the headmaster .
My father in law came to Kolkata just after his matriculation in 1948, after the direct action day and Noakhali. Against the wishes of his family and extended ones, who thought that they were "safe" and the incident was a one off.
He struggled, got himself a job and called his entire family over. By this time , his family knew that his decision was right and their existence would be wiped out if they stayed. They came secretly, via the jungle route at night. Guided by "Muslim dalals" who made money from their plight.One of the horrifying stories about that journey- An infant kept crying as the group moved together in the darkness of the night.After a couple of warnings, the Dalal just plucked the baby from the mothers arms and threw him into the Padma river.
They reached Kolkata and settled there.But the " udbasthu" tag( refugee) remained for a long long time.Even the third generation hears it in an insulting way every now and then.
My FIL's sister , who was married and remained behind, lost her husband and son in riots. One of her daughters was picked up by the "Pakistani" army and she never saw her again. She lost her senses and roamed the streets of Chittagong begging and searching for her daughter.
My FIL never stopped searching for her.Using all his resources, from Kolkata, he found her in the late 90's. He got her home to us in Kolkata, and she remained with us till her last breath ( 2005, I think). But, she never regained normalcy. Till her last day, she slept with a knife or iron rod underneath her pillow. The stories about the atrocities I heard from her were heart wrenching to say ,at the least.
Yesterday, after the CAB was passed, I saw my husband's eyes glisten with tears, threatening to overflow. Till late at night, he kept telling me stories of what all his grandparents had told him about the horrors they had to face. It was as though a dam had broken and all the pent up feelings came out.
I just wish my Bapai ( I called my FIL that) , his brothers and sister had been alive to see this day.
https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=2879890165376572&id=100000668503400
(Copied from the Facebook wall of Ms. Nidhi Ganguly)
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