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Student Sample

Feldman

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My name is Bir Bahadur Singh and I am a Sikh that experienced the full effects of the partition.

Before the partition I lived in a highly diverse neighborhood, with people of all different religions. There

was for the most part Sikhs, like myself, Muslims, and Hindus. I lived with my mother, father, and twin

brother as a happy family. But I was different from the rest of my family. The rest of my family hated

everything to do with Muslims but personally I never understood why. Next door to me was a family of

Muslims named the Mumums and they were the nicest family I ever did meet. But of course just

because of their religion the rest of my family hated them.

Hey Bir, care to join us for dinner tonight? We are celebrating my birthday and would love it if

you came over, the little boy Muhammad yelled over to me.

Yeah sure Muhammed, what time should I be over? I have to do it secretly though, my parents

dont necessarily want me to be friends with you.

Just then my father bursted into the room with steam pouring from his ears. He knew who it was

I was talking to and he did not approve of it at all.

He stuck his head through my window and with and infuriated tone screamed, Why dont you

leave my son alone! He will never come over your house because you are not worthy of his presence!

Trash, you are!

Muhammad hung his head and wondered what he did to deserve that type of treatment. I also

wondered that. Why is it that a 10 year old boy can be called trash by someone who did not even know

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him? How is it fair to accuse someone of being trash just because they follow a certain religion? I knew

in my heart that this was indeed wrong but I was not going to go against my father in that way. Our

dealings with them were so low that I am ashamed to say it.

That was my life before India was partitioned. Later on in life I grew up and had a family of my

own. After the division the whole world was flipped upside down. Everything was so chaotic that it felt

like I was living in a nightmare. Walking home from work was blood curdling and eerily spine chilling.

spent countless nights staring at the ceiling thinking of how I can keep my family safe. Violence became

an obstacle that people had to cautiously maneuver around. It lurked on every corner of every street.

This violence never deeply affected me until one day it smacked me straight in the face. I was

laying down on my couch when breaking news came on that the local bank had been bombed by a

group of Muslim extremist. Once the name of the bank showed up to be the same one where my

brother worked my heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach. I raced to the bank only to find my brother

in a body bag. He worked as a banker and was next to the terrorist before he set the bomb off. My

mind was blown when i saw one of the Muslim bombers in handcuffs. On first glance I knew exactly

who it was. Muhammed. How could this be? The same ten year old kid that invited me to his birthday

party had killed my brother in a terrorist attack. It then occurred to me that we were the same family

that sparked the hate. Most likely, Muhammad became angry and provoked to do this because of how

we treated his family.

This was exactly why I supported the partition. Separating us was the right decision. We didnt

deserve to live as one united, powerful country. When we needed help they are not hesitant to give it.

But if they ever needed anything from us it was a different story. I am willing to put all of my

controversies aside and admit that we were the ones at fault. We as Sikhs disobeyed our religious value

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of equality and this is how we will pay for the consequences brings.