The Partition Museum exhibition at IHC presents a small selection of photographs, letters and objects pieced together by voluntary donations from refugees. Kishwar Desai, who heads the museum project, tells Ankita Jain why the most neglected phase of our history needs to be coopted in collective consciousness
When Cyril John Radcliffe, a barrister with no prior experience of either British India or its political issues, yet chairman of the “boundary committee” tasked with drawing up the lines of an independent India and Pakistan, submitted his map to Viceroy Mountbatten on August 13, little did he know that it would lead to the largest and bloodiest displacement of humanity in history.
The effects are to be seen in the Partition Museum at Amritsar’s historic Town Hall pieced together by voluntary donations from evacuees who were — and in many instances remain — severely traumatised by the events of 1947. Over 20 million people migrated to a new homeland across a quickly demarcated border, leaving behind precious memories and bringing with them objects that now serve as memories.
The exhibition in the foyer of the India Habitat Centre presents a small selection of photographs, letters and objects from that collection. Bringing the exhibition to Delhi, Kishwar Desai, Chairman, Partition Museum Project, said, “This year marks the 70th anniversary of India’s independence, and every anniversary of our independence is also a reminder of the traumatic experiences of the Partition of the sub-continent in 1947 which led to the displacement and deaths of so many of our own people. Delhi was in many ways at the centre of all this, not only as the new political capital where political leaders gathered to deal with the consequences but also as a hub of refugee camps. One of these was at Purana Qila where thousands of the newly-homeless found shelter.”
Setting up the world’s first museum trust on the Partition with like-minded people, Desai described why they chose Amritsar. “It was an apt venue because it was on the frontlines of Partition. So many hundreds of thousands of refugees found their first solace in Amritsar after fleeing their homes, and Amritsar itself was partitioned from its sister-city lahore. We felt that it made sense to have it in a city that witnessed so much. However, it is important to note that for us this is the first step, we do hope to have sister museums in other places, particularly in the East.”
She further added, “The exhibition comprises mostly photographs and a few select items. Actual objects on display include a ‘Refugee Card’ with stamps of arrival in India, a watch carried across the border and a water pitcher. Rare photographs include some from inside the Purana Qila where hundreds of refugees were living in tents under the open sky, a frantic old woman in a maze of chaos, a photograph of a letter written by one refugee listing all the objects he and his family had had to leave behind in lahore and asking for them to be taken care of and seeking permission to return to lahore to recover them.”
Does more proactive action need to be taken to keep that part of history aliveIJ “The Partition has been one of the most neglected aspects of Indian history, given the fact that this was the largest forced migration of all times, when over 18 million people were uprooted, and many amongst them lost their loved ones.
“Much more work needs to be done to record their oral histories and experiences — before it is too late, as already it is more than 70 years since the event and many of that generation are no more with us. The team setting up the world’s first and only Partition Museum at Town Hall, Amritsar, is doing exactly that. We are also collecting documents, letters, photographs — official and unofficial records from all over the world. The hope is that the museum will not only serve as a place of remembrance but also it will house the largest archive on Partition,” shared Kishwar.
Will there be more such partial displays of partition memorabilia in other parts of India or abroadIJ “There have already been many such events held both within India and abroad. We had a similar exhibition at the Jaipur literature Festival earlier this year, one at the India Art Fair last year, and have participated in university events as well. We will definitely be planning many more such events to ensure that the collection can reach as many people as possible, particularly Partition survivors who may not be able to travel to Amritsar,” she said.
In addition, Desai has coopted research teams working in all the main national and international archives. “We have set up a number of collaborations and partnerships, including with the lSE South Asia Centre, through which we are trying to build a single-stop comprehensive digitised archive of all Partition documents and materials.”
The claims
The suddenness of the announcement of Partition and the arbitrary nature of the new boundary lines meant that several people who were on personal trips suddenly found themselves on the other side. On display at the exhibition is a remarkably detailed letter of September 4, 1947 to R M Bhide, Esq, liaison Officer of the East Punjab government at lahore from Nand Kishore, a retired government officer who travelled from lahore to Bharatpur to visit his daughter on July 24, 1947. In about three weeks, the trip had cost him all his property and possessions, which he lists meticulously — beginning with his address “Kucha loonwala, Sutar Mandi, inside lohari Gate, lahore” and affirming that “This is all that I possess after 35 years solid government service.”
The accompanying handwritten list of 70 items values his life’s possessions at Rs48,400. Reading through the list is as heart-rending as it reveals the everyday life in domestic households at the time.
The violence of independence
Public subscription of independence from colonial rule after decades of nationalist struggle was almost completely overshadowed from the start by new-found expressions of territoriality and possession amongst one’s own peoples. The carving of the landscape into separate homelands led to loot, destruction and plunder on an unimaginable scale; people on the move could never carry lifelong possessions with them.
The notice
lord Mountbatten’s decision to not publish the actual boundary lines while officially marking the two new independent nations meant that while there were celebrations, most people also did not know which side of the border they were on. When the “map” was finally made public on August 16, territoriality and legitimacy was immediately counter-factual, as long-time residents and neighbours became outsiders in their own homes.
Refugee identity card and letter
All refugees were registered upon arrival at the camps. It was the first official document that gave them legal status as a citizen in a new country. Details of “Original Home” and family members were recorded carefully; when someone moved from one camp to another (still in search of home) they were given a new card. The refugee registration card of Chuni lal Bhatia, Kanpur, 1949, is displayed at the exhibition. The pain, confusion, concern and fear of refugees is captured dramatically in a letter from Dewan Chand Bhatia to his son Chuni lal dated September 1, 1947. The letter has been donated by the Bhatia family to the Partition Museum.
The good government
Although millions moved across borders, many remained “trapped” in “pockets.” The government of the two newly independent countries had the responsibility of bringing over their own people. Memorandum no 1124 from the Office of the Deputy High Commissioner for India in Pakistan (dated November 17, 1947) lists the numbers of “scheduled caste” families in every chak (village) who needed to be rescued. In colonial times, small villages were numbered, a practice that continues in Pakistan’s Punjab even today with slight variations like the addition of a single letter after the number.
The wrong country
As millions found themselves in the ‘wrong’ country, riots broke out on the streets. Danger from rioting mobs led people to seek protection in numbers and in public places. Fearful for their lives, most set off on long journey.
In a set of photographs, the able-bodied and the sick took refuge in Delhi’s Jama Masjid: nobody knows if the people in these photographs left or returned to their homes when things calmed down. One of the rare photos is of the Partition on the eastern side — a group of Hindus arriving from East Pakistan to Ranaghat (West Bengal). Other photographs shows Muslims leaving Purana Qila for Pakistan in protected transport organised by the government.
The camp
Refugee camps became ubiquitous in the days immediately following Parition. Upon arrival, all refugees were huddled together in makeshift tents, or worse, asked to move on for lack of space. life in the camps was secure but not easy. Dispossessed from homes, people had to stand in long lines for water and their hearths were now in the open.
The sudden change from being a citizen to a refugee was one of the many indignities that people had to suffer. lifelong possesions were abandoned; the essentials were now bundles being carried around. Neither age nor gender was spared. In a classic photograph of an old woman, the pathos of dispossession is writ clear as she stares at us.
The long march
Millions were forced to migrate to new homelands from both sides of the border. Depending on how desperate, fearful or affluent they were, men, women and children used different modes of transport for their new destinations. The exhibition has some photographs in which few Jain monks are seen travelling by air, while others packed themselves inside and atop trains, in truck and tonga. The poorest, on foot, were the worst hit, pausing on the way to rest, cook and eat.
Home from home
Refugee journeys were long and extended over weeks. Governments, charities and individuals, all took in the weary and the tired, providing them with temporary shelter as people moved onwards and others arrived by the hour. Aerial-view photographs capture both the scale and the transitory identity of such accommodation.
