Where are you from? It’s not that simple
My childhood was mostly spent at places where my parents were posted. Both of them were teachers and got transferred from one village school to another in Punjab. My schooling too got affected due to this. I couldn’t make permanent friends. We used to live in rented houses as it was not prudent to build a house when the job is transferable.
When I had to go to college, we chose one that was closest to the village where we were staying at that time. I met new friends there. The first question anybody asks at such places to break the ice is: “Which village do you belong to?” Unlike others, I could never answer that immediately.
My grandfather lived at Baddomalli village, which is now in Pakistan Punjab. He was the first graduate of the area. He got employed in the railways and was posted at Lahore. So my father and his siblings spent their childhood in Lahore. My father has some faint memories of Baddomalli. He was only 14 when Partition happened. Leaving all riches behind, the family somehow saved their lives and came to Amritsar.
After a month, my grandfather was posted to Jalandhar. My father had cleared his matric exam by then. He was shunted off to Simbhaoli sugar mill in Hapur (Uttar Pradesh) to work as the family needed financial support. In the next 10 years, he shifted several places to do different jobs but ultimately settled down when he got married.
Both my parents were teachers in village schools in Hoshiarpur district. During their service of 33 years, they shifted residence from Bodal village to Dehlon, from Ludhiana to Kokri Kalan and Bhinder Kalan.
They were also often asked which village they belonged to. If they answered that they had come from Pakistan, people would reply either sympathetically or sarcastically. “Then you are refugees,” they would say. My father took that as an insult.
Since most years of my childhood were spent at Kokri Kalan, where my mother served as principal, I found it an easy way to answer the question. I started saying, “My village is Kokri Kalan.” Though we didn’t own a house or land at Kokri Kalan, our ties with that village are deep. I’m still in touch with old school friends from the village.
After the retirement of my parents, we settled down in Ludhiana. For 30 years, my answer has changed to, “I belong to Ludhiana.”
I went to Lahore 30 years ago and tried to find my roots. I could not locate my grandfather’s house. I knew I did not belong there. I am an Indian first and anything else later.
My children went for their college education to places of their choice. My daughter is now settled in Mumbai and my son has gone to the US after completing his engineering. Today, I’m not sure what my children will say if they are asked where they are from. The world has become a global village and such things don’t matter to GenNext. But at times I still wonder and ask myself, “Where are you from?”
I WENT TO LAHORE 30 YEARS AGO AND TRIED TO FIND MY ROOTS. I COULD NOT LOCATE MY GRANDFATHER’S HOUSE. I KNEW I DID NOT BELONG THERE