नींद न देखे टूटी खाट

When pebbles became most luxurious bed…..IT was the time when three hours journey took double the time. It was the time when all passengers, stuffed in a goods train, bumped into each other at every jolt. It was a never ending nighmarish journey. It was the year Indira Gandhi got killed and a wave of brutal killings started. Having already faced brunt of 1947 riots, our clan settled in Kanpur, was hesistant to move to Punjab. The condition grew worser each day and msot of our neighbors have already made a bee-line to Punjab. My family was not ready to leave flourishing business and move to Punjab. “Otthe jaa ke ki khavanga? Ki karanga” were the only questions that reverbated in everyone’s mind. However, my Tayaji, whose spirit 1947 riots failed to diminish, was hopeful. He motviated everyone to move to Punjab. He had re-constructed his entire home after 1947, brick-by-brick, but still had the courage to start everything fresh. He suggested that families should not flock together and instead go in small groups. He also ordered to take just valuables and leave everything behind, to be collected later. (But perhaps that later never came).After each and everyone had left for Dhuri (our ancestral place), my two cousins and I boarded Ranchi Express to come towards Punjab. But the situation in Punjab grew tense and a curfew was imposed. Not even a single vehicle, may it be bus or train, was allowed entry into curfewed-Punjab. The Ranchi Express, we were travelling in, left us at Delhi. In order to move ahead, we boarded a goods train from Delhi to Ambala. The usual journey that takes three hours took more than double the time. In the absence of vaccum between two boggies in goods train, we suffered jolts greatly. At the fag end of journey each nerve of body tingled with pain. It seemed all of us were huddled together like cattle being taken to slaughter.When we reached Ambala it was teeming with hundreds of others like us. All the eatables at station have got finished and there was not even potable drinking water. Sans food, sans water, many of us started hunting for place to at least sit.It was then I noticed that people lay wherever they could find space. While few were lying near public urinals, others found refuge near piles of garbage. While looking for some space, I recahed at the dead end of railway track. It was here I found place to rest. And on those ‘cushioned’ stones I lay after 20 hours of tiring jounrey. Ands all I could dream of was lying safely under starlit sky.eom