One Day- Kahin Kisi Roz Hamri Dilli Mein- Part 1

Witness to the days- By a child.

I was barely 4 years old when one fine day i was sent back home from my school. I reached & throughout the day was playing in the playground right before my house- unperturbed by the tides of day. Like all times my mother came from work & shouting at me to come inside the house. It was around 4 pm.

It was around 6 pm, then 6:30 pm my father had not arrived home. Some neighboring uncles and aunties were saying something to my mother. She was in tears.
My mother & I hurriedly went near to pick up point for my father's bus but there was no sign, we then went to the market to buy for some vegetables.
There was a Sardarji uncle wailing & crying in RK Puram Sec 4/5 market asking people to drop him home in Munirka .Just within a few minutes some other Uncles came and took him away somewhere I don’t know. It was getting dark we had bought vegetables and were hurriedly going home, it was dark my father was still not home.
I saw tears in her eyes; she was standing in the balcony waiting for him like she never waited before. It was 31st October.

My father returned and I could see tears of happiness in my mother's eyes, I was still unaware and as usual crying to go out and play in the pitch dark.
All I knew was father was saved from the clutches of death & he reached home with great difficulty.
The Sardarji uncle whom his friends took away somewhere was burnt alive in the vegetable market of RK Puram; He never went back to Munirka where his wife & small children were waiting for him.
The block next to us where another Sardarji Uncle and his children lived were pulled out & burnt alive with tyres.
A Sardarji uncle going to his home in East Delhi could never make it to his children, everybody refused to take him even the DTC bus to one of the worst hit areas. Few Sardarji uncles & their sons were forced out of their homes in Palam Colony, their were put on fire by burning their hair & then dousing them with fire.
Some Sardarni Aunties were raped in front of their sons & husbands & fathers. Their homes were looted, their life was ruined like the ashes. One sardarji uncle was a truck driver he was driving the Oil tanker truck he were put on fire with his tank, his children also never saw him again. Many Gurdwaras were burnt with people live & doused with kerosene & burnt alive including children & women
This was the year 1984.

Father lifted his Padgi/Turban to cut his Kesh on 1st Novemeber 1984 around 10 am with tears & terror in his eyes for the night he witnessed & the future just waiting outside. Outside At 10 am the Gujjars were searching for the Sardars in RK Puram in the voters list in Ration Shop. Thankfully they crossed our house /block but never located us in the voter's lsit or at home. This was another fateful day of 1984.