a true story …
my mother used tell me this with tears in her eyes.
my mother left South Africa in the 1960’s to join my father who was in political exile at the time in Tanzania.
in 1970 my father was deployed by the African National Congress of South Africa (ANC) to India to be its Chief-Representative there.
I was born in New Delhi a couple of years later in ’72.
my mother and father spent two years in Mumbai (then Bombay).
one afternoon my father fell and broke his leg.
my mother knocked on their neighbour’s door of the apartment complex where they lived.
the neighbour was an elderly Punjabi lady.
my mother asked the elderly lady for assistance in calling a doctor to see to my injured father.
a Zoroastrian (Parsi) ‘bone-setter’ was promptly summoned.
my mother and the elderly neighbour got to talking and the lady asked my mother where they were from, as their accents were clearly not local.
my mother told the elderly Punjabi lady that my father worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had been forced into exile to continue to struggle to raise awareness internationally about the appalling situation in Apartheid South Africa.
my mother also mentioned that they had to leave their two young children (my siblings, whom I met only later in life) behind in South Africa, in the care of grandparents, and that they were now essentially political refugees.
the elderly lady broke down and wept uncontrollably.
she told my mother that she too had to leave their home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on their back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and when Pakistan was torn from India and formed, due to narrow religious and sectarian reasons, whose repercussions are felt to this day.
this was also a time when religious violence wreaked havoc, and untold suffering and death for millions of human beings.
the elderly lady then asked my mother what her name was.
‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’.
the Punjabi woman hugged Zubeida some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, by religion and all the things that seek to divide humanity, wept, for they could understand the pain and trauma of a shared experience.
the elderly Punjabi lady told my mother that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she too felt the pain of exile after being forced to become refugees, and what being a refugee felt like.
Zubie and her husband Mosie (my father) and the family next door became the closest of friends.
then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress (ANC) office was to be officially opened.
the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes.
a year or two later, the elderly lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi.
the elderly lady telephoned Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live there, and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi, and that she should not feel alone.
Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi in the mid-1970’s.
Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, till the both my mother passed away in 2008.
my father and I still feel a close bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi, and vice versa.
a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two countries of South Africa and of India, shattering the barriers of creed and of time.
a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience.
that is why I shall never stop believing that hope shines still, for with so much religious bigotry almost consuming our world today, there will always be a woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, and as a fellow human being.
and that is why, I believe, that there will always be hope.
hope in the midst of unbearable pain and hope in the midst of loss and of unspeakable suffering.
hope.
for we can never give up hope for a better world.
never.
(for aunty Lata’s late-mother, my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi, India)
A beautiful story of such heartfelt bond formed between two strangers. That’s so rare. But keeps the belief on empathy and purity alive.
Your parents were very strong amongst such a tumultuous time. And you also got an amazing extended family 🙂
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thank you for your warm words, my friend. they are deeply touching. if only we could imbibe the humanity of those around us whose humanity shines through I believe that would be a step in the right direction. Thank you ever so much, friend and warmest wishes !
Peace ✌
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Yes definitely. Humanity is rather a strange word today but there are some very very amazing people in the world which keeps the concept of goodness still alive. If only its induced to a greater crowd ☺☺
Thank you so much for your kind words, the best wishes to you too my friend ☺☺
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your words are profoundly true and we all live with the hope that if we struggle enough as alternative voices we just may be able to make a change in our small ways.
thank you and peace ✌
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Absolutely! Making our share of small contributions, that’s the only way ☺☺
Have a great Sunday! ☺☺
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you too, my friend
Peace ✌
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Thank you so much ☺☺
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This is a beautiful post; history, family, and the root of friendship. It is the common bonds that bring us together, not the differences that separate us.
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thank you as always for your kind words – humbling.
yes indeed how true it is that the common bonds keep us interlinked transcend the ‘differences’ which so often divide us. thank you again!
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You are welcome!
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Thank You so much Afzal for sharing this story! I felt so connected to it. For following reasons
1. I share the same birth year as you
2. My ancestors from both sides paternal and maternal came ad refugees from Pakistan to Delhi in 1947
3. I’m also from Delhi
4. Sethi 🙂
5. I too believe in relations of heart above any religious or geographical relation.
I have lots of respect for your mother after reading your previous post on her. She suffered a lot of pain and I must say she was a very brave lady though left very early.
I still see the pain of sepration from motherland in my grandparents eyes. We were from a very beautiful hill station of north west frontier. The place was Shinkiari. I now know the mystery behind my love for nature and hills.
Keep sharing more of such incidents. Which makes us hopeful for and increase faith in humanity!
Thank You once again! ☺
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I am speechless by your sharing your family’s history. thank you for sharing what we both have in common including our year of birth. I am always moved by the history of resilience of families such as yours to literally attempt to make a new home having been subjected to the partition. we in South Africa felt the racial oppression on the lines of colour but the tragedy that was the partition of India for the most communal of lines. I salute your family and grandparents. we share such intrinsic links that it reminds me of the motto of the school I attended in Delhi – vasudhaiva kutumbakam – the world is a family which relates directly with the South African concept of uBuntu – I am because we are.
thank you once again and warmest wishes and respectful greetings to you and those dear to you.
Peace Shanti Shalom Salaam uKuthula ✌
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Thank You Afzal
The stories they shared are emotional, painful and inspiration to us.
I wish this world could be turned in more tolerant, loving and peaceful!
Peace and best wishes to you too friend! 🙏
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thank you Meenakshi. We share so much as people even from opposite sides of the world. Your words touch me deeply and yes there is always hope . Always.
Warmest wishes dear friend
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Oh how loving! Thank you for this heartwarming story!
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many thanks, my friend.
Peace ✌
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A speech beyond words, a pain beyond time’s healing is what is etched here in the hearts of Indians through all those years of riots, struggle and grief -old and new.
Some still cry for those they lost in the burning trains in Gujarat, in the wrenching wars on borders, in broken temples and mosques. Some find tears in their eyes, to the sound of the national anthem- regardless of their creed, religion or caste.
No human wants revenge, or war. We all want peace.
Thank you for sharing this here, some still need a fellow being’s words to soothe their wounds.
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you have so eloquently and powerfully expressed the innate yearning for peace and amity that all us humans strive to achieve. unfortunately the actions of those who choose to divide the world on religious and racial and gender lines are grotesque. still we find it within ourselves to rise up above the bigotry and hate because I truly believe the vast majority of human beings seek peace and shelter and food and a better way of living, devoid of poverty, terrorism, war, and the myriad other ills that plague this beautiful earth that is our only home.
thank you so very much for your deeply profound and moving words.
Peace ✌
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Peace, dear friend 🙂
Your words are ever motivating
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thank you, dear friend 😊. it means a lot.
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A wonderful post which brings out the essence of our existence and our lives. Thank you for sharing your thoughts .
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thank you as always for your warmth and kind words, Veena. as always they are deeply appreciated and touching.
Peace ✌
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I envision a world which will not be divided by boundaries but united by humanity.
This post was much needed to restore our faith in humanity. Thank you for sharing this story with us all.
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thank you, for your heartfelt words of unity and the quest for tolerance and peace. Thank you very much indeed.
Peace my friend ✌
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Peace to you too, brother!✌
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✌
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Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.
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thank you so very much as always
Peace ✌
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I needed an affirmation that humanity and brotherhood (sisterhood?) shall overcome, eventually. Thank you, Afzal. Bless you & your family!
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thank you, Kunal! means a lot to me.
and yes, we shall overcome, for as Nelson Mandela said ‘no one is born hating each other. one needs to be taught to hate. and if we can be taught to hate then we can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally”
Peace, brother ✌
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More peddlers of hate in the pulpits today, unfortunately…
Peace, my friend, peace
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too true my friend. too true. makes one despondent too.
Peace brother and may we always strive to isolate the peddlers of hate by taking a common stand (which is not easy given the current issues of terrorism and wars etc)
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I agree, it’s a vitiated atmosphere out there, but all we need is one Mrs Moolla and one Mrs Sethi to put things right. Take care, Afzal!
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indeed my dear friend! take care and stay well, my brother ✌👍
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