May the New Year come with a

Continued appreciation for all you do,

For the beauty that surrounds you,

For the people who love you,

And for the life you have been blessed with.

New Year jyon Lakh Lakh Wadayun!

Walking in the Fog

Reminiscences of an ‘Undivided’ Partition

By Subash Bijlani

There is an inevitable consternation in writing about times that are engulfed in a fog.  The struggles in rebuilding a new identity by the generation that left Sindh seem to have kept them from sharing their pre-partition life with their children. Whether it was the trauma of getting uprooted or preoccupation with building a life in a strange new land, the veil of silence seems to have worked as a shield for their children.  There were occasional references to a nostalgic past, anecdotes told and retold when old friends visited but the collective memory seems to have been left behind with their possessions. Add that to the fact that in India we do not value and preserve our past with any zeal, the journey into our past is arduous.

The other reason for consternation is the difficulty to think of Sindh in terms of ‘partition’. It was never divided. Punjab and Bengal were partitioned with their culture and language intact in their

truncated states. Sindh was given away whole. The 21% Hindu population of the 20 million Sindhis were made homeless and stateless.

It seems apt I should start with a poem by the German Nobel Laurate Herman Hesse (1877-1962), roughly translated by me. Hesse explored an individual’s search for authenticity and self-knowledge.

Talking of our past is to walk a path wrapped up in fog. The low visibility accentuates a sense of abandonment. My recollections are an attempt to paint a landscape faintly visible in what seems a distant haze.

At the time of partition, my father Khanchand (Khanu), was the Judge in Sukkur, the twin city of Rohri, famous for its barrage over River Indus and Sadh Belo, the revered Hindu temple on an island in the Indus River. The temple was set up where Baba Bankhandi Maharaj, then a 15-year-old spiritual seeker, set up his settlement when  arrived in Sindh in 1823. On my visit to Sukkur in 1984, I was shown the tree in the temple complex under which, Guru Nanak taught sadhus the path of life.

The judge’s court was on the wadi takri (big hill); the judge’s residence on the nandri takri (small hill). The judiciary, like most positions of authority, was treated with awe and I saw a number of uniformed persons in and around our house. Some were court officials and some clearly from the police force, largely Muslim.

An unpaved lane to the foothill from our house led to the living quarters of supporting staff. I played with their children on dusty slopes chasing chickens, who ran with an agility we could never match. There was no stigma attached to playing with the children of the staff, largely Muslim, or the ‘labour class’. In contrast to any other Hindu group in India, Sindhis were devoid of caste and mingling with Muslim children was quite the usual thing. It is a reflection of the times we now live in that this statement can raise eyebrows.

Sindh's geographical isolation by-passed the mainstream orthodox Hinduism.  Religious tolerance had brought about a fusion of Vedantic and Islamic cultures and Sindh developed as a secular haven, exemplified by Sufi saints like Shah Abdul Latif who preached tolerance and co-existence and in Sachal’s “I am neither a Hindu nor a Muslim.” Sindhi Hindus prayed in dargahs and Sindhi Muslims evoked God as Varuna Zindah Pir. There was congruence of Dargahs and Darbars, despite the divergences that emerged in the run-up to the partition.

Several writers have alluded to this harmony in Sindh. The British traveler, Burton (1851) observed that the Sindhi Muslims were different in their beliefs and rituals from the Muslims of the rest of India.

Our household help was a Sikh, Sardar Jhaman Singh. He’d came to work for our family in Thatta, a town about 100 km west of Karachi, where I was born, and where my father was the Civil Judge and First Class Magistrate. Thatta (Thatto in Sindhi refers to river side settlements) was the capital of Sindh in 14th century under the Samma dynasty of Rajput decent (Harjani, 2018). It is where the Patron Saint of Sindhis, Jhulelal, was born, has the Jama Mosque built by Shah Jahan, reportedly with the most elaborate tile work in the South Asia, now a UNESCO heritage site, and home to Makli Necropolis, one of the largest funerary sites in the world, with around 1 million tombs built over 400-year period. Many towns in Sindh reflected this mosaic of faiths. 

The spread of Sikhism in Sindh is less well-known. The majority of Sindhi Hindus are followers of the teachings of Guru Nanak but they are not the same as Punjabi Singhs who followed the tenth Guru Gobind Singh whose influence led to the militarization of the Sikhs. Initiation of Sindhis into Nanakshahi faith was done by the Udasi priests.

In our family we grew up with going to Gurdwaras, doing seva at langars and organising kirtans and akhand path at home.  Girls were taught Gurmukhi to read Guru Granth Sahib. The letters my mother received from her friends were in Sindhi – written in Gurmukhi or Arabic script.

Jhaman Singh looked after the household and me and my sister Bimla two years older than me. Over forty years later, Jhaman Singh traced me to Chandigarh where I then lived. Apprehensive that I may not recognize him, he stood at the door and took out an old picture from his shirt pocket - of him holding me in his arms.

The only artifact he recognized in my house was the large Burmese teak Jhoola (peengha) my father had got made when I was born. This was a heavy structure. How the family got it packed and taken across the border, when people were fleeing with what little they could carry, defies my understanding. The Jhoola has moved with us from Bombay to Delhi to Calcutta to Chandigarh and, now, Gurgaon.

From the few days Jhaman Singh spent with us in Chandigarh, I learnt that he had come to work for my father in Thatta from a nearby village which had majority Sindhi Sikhs. According to him there were several such villages in Sindh. I have not come across a mention of the Sikh-majority villages in published literature.

The Sindhi syncretic tradition transcended Hindu-Muslim differences. It was rooted in the shared language, script and literature, a tradition with shared pirs and saints and even a similarity in food and dress. Then there was the economic cement in a feudal society where Hindus owned land and controlled business (Ahmad Salim, 2004).

The sense of exclusion of Sindhi Muslims in Sindh was brought home to me when I went to Pakistan in 1984. Visiting my birthplace, Thatta, and my parent’s birthplace, Larkana, I was surrounded by people who kept calling me ‘hum-zabani’ (one who speaks the same language) and asking me why we had ‘left’ them. When I told them of the stories of violence I had heard, the response was that it was not ‘us’ (the Sindhis); it was ‘them’ (the Punjabis)! There was a feeling of being abandoned as the Sindhis in Pakistan found themselves inundated by the non-Sindhi immigrants from India who did not speak their language. The questions “Why did the Hindus leave Sindh? Why don’t you come back?” (Agarwal, 2014) kept coming up throughout my travels in Pakistan.

When the partition finally came, many Sindhi Hindus still believed they could continue to live peacefully in the Muslim majority Sindh as they had for centuries. Those, like my father, believed that professions, such as the judiciary, would always be wanted in the newly created nation; they would be allowed, if not persuaded, to stay.

Others believed the communal disturbances were going to be short-lived, that ‘sense’ will prevail, old bonds will somehow re-emerge, the violence die down, and the madness would soon end. Some felt they’ll return to their ancestral homes because either the partition will not be permanent or because they’ll simply be called back to their communities.

The court and the judge’s house in Sukkur were conspicuous in the city. My first memory of partition is lowering of the Union Jack and hoisting of the Pakistan’s flag on our house in Sukkur on August 14, 1947.

Though there was no ill-will within the court complex or the city, there clearly was a growing anxiety at the news of violence in Punjab and Bengal. The influx of Muslim refugees from India was aggravating the situation. Our sense of insecurity was more for Jhaman Singh and his family.  Sikhs were targeted.

To demonstrate new allegiance Jhaman Singh was tasked by my father to personally hoist the Pakistani flag. I remember Jhaman Singh walking up the stairs to the terrace accompanied by a couple of police constables to hoist the flag. He did it in full sight of onlookers below. There must have been a sense of relief as he came down.  I doubt if he or my parents could sleep that night.

As 1947 dragged on, the situation began to deteriorate with Muslims from India bringing horror stories of killings looking to be rehabilitated. Muhajir in Arabic means emigrant. Most of the eight million Urdu speaking Muhajirs, then one fourth of Pakistan’s population, were settled in Sindh. Their culture and identity were alien to the local communities. Sindhi Muslims viewed this influx with alarm. 

The Muhajirs were also looking to be rehabilitated by getting the houses vacated by Sindhi Hindus. It must have been clear to the Hindu families still in Sindh, that an irreversible change was sweeping the country.

My father decided to leave in January 1948. His Mama (maternal uncle), Hari Daryani ‘Dilgir’, the renowned Sindhi poet and educationist in Larkana, stayed back since his father refused to leave his roots. Hari Dilgir left Pakistan with his family in 1958 only after his father passed away.

We took the train from Rohri, the twin city of Sukkur.

Armed guards from Sukkur court, all Muslims, escorted us on the train journey to cross the freshly minted border. I later learnt from Jhaman Singh when he came to see us Chandigarh how fraught with danger that journey was.  Hordes of crowd would surge at every station targeting the fleeing passengers.  Jhaman Singh recounted that he and his family, conspicuous with their turbans and beards, were handcuffed by the armed guards to show the crowd that they were prisoners being taken for trial. The armed guards were arranged by my father to protect Jhaman Singh and a other Sikh families he’d arranged to travel on the same train.

Jhaman Singh said he owed his and his family’s life and those of a number of Sikhs to my father and the protection by the Muslim guard. He said the Sikh families settled in a place near Delhi, and named the locality after my father. I cannot authenticate this. 

Our family was clearly fortunate. We were not only safely journeyed across the freshly minted border; the bonds were on display when the Muslim policemen bade us a tearful farewell and pleaded us to stay back – sain tanwhi chho pya asan ke chhane vajon? (Sir, why are you leaving us?). I do not recall where we reached in India. I assume we travelled from Rohri station to Mirpur Khas, across Khokhrapar, the last railway station on Sindh-Gujarat border, to Jodhpur.

I have a faded memory of our journey from Sukkur to across the border but remember our luggage was loaded in tongas to take us to the railway station. We were four siblings at the time, my elder sister, Bimla (7 years), me (5 years), my younger sisters Sadhna (3 years), and Aruna (1 year).

My parents were married in Larkana on May 1, 1938. They were nine years into their marriage when the upheaval hit them.

Not till I became a parent did I begin to understand the enormity of the challenge my parents must’ve faced travelling with four small children.

Over the years I heard stories from family friends the warmth and co-operation of their Sindhi Muslim neighbours and friends, who provided them protection and escorted them safely to the local railway stations or the harbor in Karachi. Malkani (1997) observes, “When refugee Muslims wanted to kill Hindus, Sindhi Muslims refused to cooperate”.

I also heard the other side - stories of the atrocities, how they were abandoned and betrayed by their Muslim friends and neighbours, and attacked, their belongings and homes plundered.

A family close to my parents that stayed in touch with us all their lives after the partition shows the suffering and horror suffered by many who fled from their homes. Kamla (Dolly aunty to us) and my father were college friends in D J Sind College, Hyderabad, in 1930s.  My father had been first in college throughout – in BA Honors in English and Maths (1930-34), LLB (1934-36), and MA Pure Maths (1934-37). He often coached his classmates. Dolly aunty was one of his classmates and a ‘student’.

Dolly aunty was a Bengali Christian who grew up in Sindh and was married to a Punjabi, Baldev Bhatia. Kamla was the Superintendent of Schools in Lahore.  She had to flee by scaling the courtyard of her house in Lahore in the final month of her pregnancy when a violent crowd attacked their home.

Years later, I heard similar experiences narrated by my Sikh friends during the 1984 riots in the wake of Indira Gandhi’s assassination.

Dolly aunty became Principal of the Girls School in Gole Market, New Delhi. In 1966 she migrated to the US with their five daughters. Dolly aunty told us when we visited her in Buffalo, NY in US in 1987 how, after the scaling the wall of her house, she’d walked from Lahore to Amritsar. Her husband and two small daughters followed under harrowing circumstances.

Dolly aunty spoke of the trauma of partition, of leaving a life behind It had, she said, made her a refugee forever. My own mindset, and I believe of many who have memories of partition is one of detachment from belonging to any state in India. This ‘statelessness’ has given us a degree of resilience to live and adopt wherever we go. We remain a minority everywhere.

The sense of alienation, the apartness I feel is best described by Munawar Rana, the Sahitya Academy Winner and renowned Indian modern Urdu poet. In his Muhajirnama (Rana, 2015), arguably the longest Urdu Nazm (poem) he says:  

Rana’s haunting poetry speaks of the pain all those who leave their roots behind. In a sense, we too are all Muhajir – adopting to a majoritarian culture, often unlearning our language.

The interaction between immigrant and the majority society has been studied by scholars (Phinney, et. al., 2001) to understand development of cultural identity. In the case of Hindu Sindhi migrants, it was a bargain that had to be struck to sacrifice their ethnic identity and language in exchange of a new identity as part of their ‘new country’ of settlement.

I have kept wondering why they seldom discussed those tumultuous days and shared the memories of life in Sindh. Maybe they wanted to keep us away from the loss of what they left behind, maybe it was their over-riding focus on building a new future for their children. The contrast with how the Jewish families have kept their collective memories alive through stories and artifacts and traditions alive is stark. The analogy is not perfect because Sindhis were not united in a religion though they did have the bond of language. That too began to fray as, in absence of a state of their own, families adopted the language of the states of their domicile ad emphasized Hindi and English as ‘link’ languages. Some also began distancing themselves from their past, adopting Devanagari and discarding the Arabic script .

In my family, my mother, Jassie (1917-2009) was the last family member to speak the language with her children. None of her grand-children have acquaintance with the language.  My generation is a witness to the historical extinction of centuries-old language in a single life time.

EGIDS, the Expanded Graded Intergenerational Disruption Scale, as a measure of the endangerment of a language, classifies languages from ‘safe’ to ‘extinct’ on a scale of 0-10. Sindhi qualifies at Level 2 (https://www.ethnologue.com/language/snd). This is because of its status as a regional language in Pakistan (Kodwani, 2015). Among the Hindu Sindhi migrants, though, the level would be nearer level 8b – Nearly Extinct. This category is defined as “The only remaining speakers of the language are members of the grandparent generation or older who have little opportunity to use the language”.

My mother came from the influential ‘Gian Bagh’ Motwani family in Larkana. Matlani (2002) writes “One of the jewels in the crown of Larkana is the Gian Bagh, a beautiful garden constructed by none other than Diwan Gianchand Chandumal Motwani, who belonged to Larkana and was renowned for his “Motwani Chicago” electronic shop at Mumbai. Due to his regular visits to Bombay and Pune in the days prior to partition, he brought different varieties of flowers and vegetations from Pune and planted them at the Gian Bagh”. Gianchand’ s brother, Bhojraj was my Nana, Ram Motwani’s father. Ram’s brother, Dada Sewak Motwani, was more active in the freedom movement. And a renowned social worker. He founded Balkan-ji Bari (https://allindiabalkanjibari.com/) in 1923  in Bombay.

The Motwani (they anglicized it as ‘Motwane’) family was active the freedom movement. My mother often recounted how, as a school girl in early 1930s, on the call given by Gandhi, she and her friends made a bonfire of their clothes and wore khadi. They took part in processions and in blocking trains carrying British soldiers through Sindh. I cannot imagine the gutsiness of these girls in those times.  

My mother used to recall seeing Subhas Chandra Bose when he came for a Congress meeting in Sindh and had breakfast at home with her father Ram Motwani. She was so taken up by his charisma that she decided she would name her son (I was not born then) after him. When I was 7 or 8 years old, she got a smart uniform stitched for me to make me look like Netaji. Years later when we moved to Calcutta, the house we lived in was on extension of Elgin Road (Shambhunath Pandit Street), where Netaji lived and escaped in disguise in 1941. His niece Lalita Bose, a gifted singer, later became a family friend and would visit us often in our house in Palace Court on Kyd Street.

During the Quit India Movement in 1942, Gianchand’ s son Nanik was involved in supporting the clandestine and underground ‘Congress Radio’ with technicians and equipment. Congress Radio was operated from different locations to avoid detection. Nanik was finally arrested and we heard stories of his being laid on ice slabs in jail to give information about the locations of the radio. He never did. Most rallies by Gandhi, Nehru and other Congress leaders during the freedom movement were addressed with ‘Chicago’ or ‘Motwane’ emblem on microphones.

Gian Ghar was a shelter to several families that came from Sindh. The challenge was to find them work and a place to stay.

The legendary success of the Sindhis who settled in Ulhasnagar near Bombay, has been lauded (Lentin & Bhaskaran, 2017). The refugees, or Displaced Persons, as they were called, were housed in the dormitory-style shelters converted from the second world war military barracks, then known as the Kalyan Camp.

To understand the remarkable success of these refugees, it is useful to recall that while there was no caste, the Sindhis were classified by their professions.

• The Amils, were the educated segment largely from Hyderabad, Sindh, the educational and cultural hub of the Province.
• The Bhaibands (Sindhworkies), literally ‘brothers in arms’ were traders, and built new business networks. ‘Sindh work’ such as ivory, wood and enamel carving, lacquer work, textiles and embroidery made by Sindhi Muslim artisans was sold to the British who them the Sindhworkis. The Sindhworkis had begun travelling abroad from the late 1850s eastwards to China and Japan, and westwards to Cairo, Malta, Gibraltar, and the Caribbean islands.
• The Shikarpuris and the Thattai Bhatia merchants had a pre-colonial global trading and financial network that extended from Astrakhan on the Caspian Sea to the Straits of Malacca (Agarwal, 2016)

The success of the Kalyan Camp refugees was due to their pre-colonial global trading roots and their deep business networks. They set up successful home, cottage, and small-scale units in Ulhasnagar, many becoming All-India suppliers. 

The adjustment for the uprooted professional class was harsher. It was not easy for the professionals like my father who were in the legal profession, to find comparable jobs.

In January 1948 my father was appointed the ‘Facts Finding Officer’ to the Government of India. The job was to record claims of the refugees arriving from Sindh for their entitlement to compensation in India.  His counter-part in Punjab was Chaman Lal Pandhi, a lawyer from Lyallpur. He had the responsibility to record the claims of the refugees from West Punjab. His son, Prem Pandhi was one of India’s tennis stars in 1940s and a distinguished industry leader. Prem was my boss in Metal Box, Delhi, in 1966 when I was a young Management Trainee. He became Chairman of Cadbury, founded International Management Institute, Delhi, and served on several company boards. In mid-1980s he joined the Board of Molins of India where I was the Managing Director. The story of Prem’s escape from Pakistan appeared in The Tribune of Chandigarh (Gandhi, 2005).

Facts finding officers were also set up in Pakistan to record the claims of the Muslim refugees fleeing India. The process involved recording of the atrocities on the fleeing refugees. The posts of Facts Finding Officers were abolished in October 1948.

Within ten months of starting his new life, my father was out of job.  I heard from my father that Pakistan’s Governor-General Jinnah had called up the Indian Prime Minister Nehru to abolish these positions as recording of atrocities was giving rise to more hatred.

We had moved from Gian Ghar to a house on the 16th Road in Khar, Bombay, and now had to move to Delhi where there was potential of a government job for my father. Dolly aunty was by then the Principal of Girls Secondary High School in Gole Market in New Delhi. We moved in their house till my father found his new job. We were then five brothers and sisters. Dolly aunty and Baldev Uncle had their five children. The Principal’s house was a colonial bungalow on sprawling grounds. We stayed on till my father found a new job with the government. The bonds of friendship and mutual support lasted all their lives.

From November 1948 to June 1954, my father held positions as Under Secretary in the Ministry of Defence, Law and Lok Sabha. We first lived in Khyber Pass Mess in the Civil Lines, New Delhi. These were British army barracks converted as residences for the government employees. The Old Secretariat was in the area and housed the government offices. My friend Prakash Ramrakhiani reminded me recently that his family lived near us and remembered that our house number was 135-137. The British had named it Khyber Pass, he told me, because it was located in a depression and exposed to strong winds which reminded them of Khyber Pass.

My elementary schooling was in the nearby Timarpur School set up for the refugees. While children of other families went to the English-medium schools, such as the Delhi Public School in Delhi, my father believed that Hindi would be required for all jobs in India and children should be educated in Hindi medium. As a Central Government employee, subject to transfers, he felt this was the safe option.

I walked to my Timarpur School over barren hills. I learnt to write on wooden planks (pati) which had to be coated afresh every day with Fuller’s earth, or Multani Mitti (‘met’ in Sindhi). The teacher taught us the art of making a pen from hollow bamboo rods, the end cut at 45 deg angle for calligraphic writing and slit in the middle to create the capillary action for ink. We made our own pitch-black ink. The ink bottle was tied with a string in a hole in pati’s handle.

Our next move was to Sikandra Mess in New Delhi, behind the Old American Embassy, when my father moved to Defense Ministry. Our house was another army barracks converted as residences for the government employees. My father cycled to his office in the South Block in the New Secretariat next to the Parliament House. I joined Harcourt Butler School, and my sisters went to the St. Thomas School, both on Mandir Marg. The old American Embassy is now the Sahitya Academy and Sikandra Mess was demolished to make way for the multistoried Himachal Bhawan.

In Delhi the family caught up with old friends from Sindh many of whom lived in Patel Nagar. We would go over to their homes in a tonga on Sundays, till my father bought his first car. Our frequent visits were to Prabhu Chugani ‘Bewafa’, the renowned Sindhi poet. 

In June 1954 we moved to Calcutta, where my father was transferred to the Indian Ordnance Factory Headquarters of the Ministry of Defence Production. This was a major cultural change for the family as we again tried to adopt to a new environment and a new language. My Schooling in Hindi medium came useful and I continued my education in Hindi till class 10, then called Matric. I had to struggle in St, Xavier’s College in Calcutta where the medium was English. My both younger brothers became fluent in Bengali. My father attended classes to learn Hindi as all Central Govt. employees were required to possess minimum “Working Knowledge” of Hindi. Sindhi was beginning to fade from our lives. 

Those who have lived in Calcutta will tell you that the experience of Calcutta is like no other. Its affinity to arts and learning and assimilation of diverse cultural streams, the lively debates and love for learning is unmatched anywhere. I left Calcutta in 1970 but retain a strong nostalgia for the city and its people. The life of the Sindhis as one of the minorities in Calcutta is described beautifully by Sajni Kripalani Mukherjee in the compilation of essays by Banerjee, Gupta, and Mukherjee (2009).

Let me end with the closing stanza of Herman Hesse’s poem:

Our world-view, the way we look at ourselves and at those who pray and eat and look differently, is driven greatly by our own experiences and collective memories handed down to us through family stories and our folk-lore.

I find the Sindhi Sufi tradition, the co-existence of communities in the days that seem receding in a fog, guides my own views. I feel  the same sense of grief and anguish, in the marginalization and injustice to minorities, whether Muslims in India, Shias and Ahmadis and Christians in Pakistan, African-Americans in the US, the Rwandan genocide of the Tutsi by the Hutu, the Jews in Germany, or a hundred years ago the ethnic cleansing of Armenians in Turkey. Pehlu Khans, George Floyds and Salman Taseers are bound in the same thread.

My father passed away in Calcutta in 1970 at the age of 57, three months before his retirement.  A life and a leaf of history ended. It is the one I have kept wondering about and exploring, walking in a fog that gets denser with time.

It is said that what is painful to remember, we simply don’t forget.

References

Agarwal, S. (2014). Wherever. Published by Black-and-White Fountain, Pune, India.

Agarwal, S (2016). The Sindhworkis Unique Global Diaspora, Sahapedia, 2016.  Retrieved: https://www.sahapedia.org/the-sindhworkis-unique-global-diaspora

Ahmad Salim (2004) Partition of India: The Case of Sindh Migration, Violence and Peaceful Sindh. The Sustainable Development Policy Institute Working Paper Series # 97

Banerjee, H., Gupta, N., and Mukherjee, S. (2009). Calcutta Mosaic: Essays and interviews on the minority communities of Calcutta. Anthem Press, New Delhi. ISBN-13: 978 81 905835 5 8

Burton, R.F (1851) Sindh & the races that inhabit the Valley of the Indus with notices of the topography and history of the province: London

Gandhi, R., Usha (2005). Insaniyat amidst insanity: Recollections of 1947. The Tribune, Chandigarh, October 3o, 2005. Retrieved: https://www.tribuneindia.com/2005/20051030/society.htm

Harjani, D. N (2018). Sindhi Roots & Rituals – Parts 1 & 2. Notion Press, Chennai.

Singh, Inderjeet (2017). Sindhi Hindus & Nanakpanthis in Pakistan. Abstracts of Sikh Studies. Jul – Sep 2020/551 NS. Retrieved: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/338375198_Sindhi_Hindus_Nanakpanthis_in_Pakistan

Kodwani, Devendra, G. (2015). A global community in search of local identities: Musings on Sindhi Language, Culture and Identity. Speech delivered on 24 December 2015, Indian Institute of Sindhology, Adipur, Kachchh, India.

Lentin, S. and Bhaskaran, N. (2017). The making of Bombay’s mini Sindh. Gateway House. 24 August 2017. Retrieved: https://www.gatewayhouse.in/the-making-of-bombays-mini-sindh/

Malkani, K.R. (1997) The Sindh Story. Revised edition. New Delhi: Allied Publishers. P. 94.

Matlani, Prem (2002).  Larkana, the Eden of Sindh – a journey through history. Sindhishaan, Vol., Issue 3, Apr-Jun 2002. Retrieved: http://www.sindhishaan.com/article/history/hist_01_03a.html

Phinney, H., Liebkind, and Vedder (2001). Ethnic Identity, Immigration, and Well-Being: An Interactional Perspective. Journal of Social Issues, Vol 57, No. 3, 2001. pp. 493-510

Rana, Munawwar (2015). Muhajirnama. Vani Prakashan, Daryaganj, New Delhi. [Recital by Manoj Muntashir: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9aMTHlmfZ4]

Dr. Subash Bijlani is Collegiate Professor at the University of Maryland Global Campus, USA

Essay originally printed in Saaz Aggarwal’s publication,

Sindhi Tapestry: Reflections on the Sindhi Identity - An Anthology

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About The Book

The Dawn Review

Sindhi Samachar is proud to recognize Ms. Renu Narvekar (nee Wadhwani) who has been awarded the best in-house Transfer Pricing Director in Asia by the International Tax Review (ITR) - ITR Asia Tax Awards-2020. The ITR Asia Tax Awards recognize achievements and developments by international tax professionals from the Asia- Pacific regions.

Renu has always been a brilliant student. Renu graduated in commerce and thereafter undertook the Chartered Accountancy course, clearing her exams in the first attempt and making her parents proud. Renu joined Procter & Gamble (P&G) in the area of excise taxes. A completely new and unexplored area by any woman in those days (1990’s). In her professional journey she gained expertise and recognition in other indirect taxes, like customs and sales tax (VAT/ GST) as well. Her role involved traveling, predominantly to various cities and towns in India, dealing with stockists and distributions, encountering some nerve-wracking, harrowing and unforgettable experiences, along the way.

Renu’s role also involved representing the company’s matters before the tax authorities, Government officials and in the Courts. On account of her courage, self-confidence and self-determination, she gradually made a name and place for herself and became a force to reckon with on matters of taxation both within the organization and in the industry. Post restructuring at P&G, Renu took over the entire India tax responsibilities, including direct corporate tax and transfer pricing (which was still in its nascent stage). Renu was soon appointed Head of India tax in P&G with additional responsibilities for Singapore taxation.

She also led merger & acquisitions for P&G, being the tax lead in these projects. However, realizing she had become complacent and perhaps stagnated, Renu decided it was time to move on and explore new opportunities. Renu was offered the role of Senior VP and Tax Head at Standard Chartered Bank (SCB). After a very brief stint of 2 years with SCB, Renu was sought after and offered a role in HSBC India as Head of Tax.

Considering Renu’s expertise, capabilities, knowledge and leadership abilities, she was handpicked for a regional role as Regional Head of Tax for HSBC UK & Europe, based out of London. Her son enrolled in a University in UK to complete his graduation and then went on to do his Chartered Accountancy from the Institute of England and Wales (ICAEW).

Looking at her potential, HSBC UK gave her additional responsibilities, appointing her as Global Head of Transfer Pricing in addition to her regional role. The UK stint gave Renu the exposure to manage a team of individuals of diverse backgrounds and ethnicities. In 2015, she quit HSBC UK and moved back to Mumbai.

The collective experience of 30 years across various fields of taxation and her leadership ability of managing large teams across organizations, landed her the coveted position of Global Tax Head at one of India’s largest company, Tata Consultancy Services (TCS).

Renu, now heads the global tax function at TCS, which has offices in 46 countries across the world. This awe- inspiring journey of endurance and growth is reflected on the professional as well as personal terrain. Renu has managed to juggle both her personal and professional life with deft and has come out as a winner. As a working woman, she unwaveringly faced all the challenges on the home and the office front, balanced her priorities, navigated her journey through all odds with composure and maturity and has achieved significant milestones along the way.

Renu's success can be attributable to her dedication, commitment, passion, sincerity towards her work and to her simple, humble, silent, calm and composed nature. Her professional journey is matter of pride and honour for our community and is worth emulating.

The Sindhu World

Virtual Home of Global Sindhi Community

By S. P. Sir (Manghirmalani) Kolhapur

The Sindhu World undisputed premier and most popular sindhi website, the probably biggest online source [300 odd pages] of Biography of Sindhi Saints, Sindhi Poets, Sindhi Writers, Sindhi Religious Guru, Sindhi Spiritual Masters and famous Sindhi from the fields like Art, Sports, Politics, Film & Television Industry, performing art along with Freedom fighters like Hemu Kalani and those who work for the sindhi community, the Sindhi Jewel or the pride carriers of Sindhi Shan. One unique thing is that biography of every Sahitya Akademi Awardee is there.

With new restructuring and new look now this bilingual (English and Sindhi Devanagiri) website is more informative, more effective and more user friendly than the previous two versions of website.

How we started

It was the year 2006 just before I started blogging, I felt that as for as online platforms are concerned there is quite huge open space for Sindhi community. There were a few Sindhi websites majority from the Pakistan and UAE but not a single one which was being updated regularly. Visitor’s participation and interaction was also at the lowest level. All this proved to be the seed for the launching of The Sindhu World, a Sindhi website and virtual home of global Sindhi community.

This was not an easy task to lay down the structure of The Sindhu World. Almost four months went passed in discussion what should or should not be the part of the website. It took almost same span of time for the content development and designing of the lay out. Finally, as I recall with 50 odd web pages The Sindhu World was launched on 29-08-2006 by Satguru Swami Dev Prakash Maharaj Ji at Kolhapur. Today website is bunch of more than 1500 web pages that means the informative content of the website is increased by 30 times to that of with what we had started.

In the year 2007 List of Sindhi Dharamshala in India with indication about the information related with availability of Tourist stay facility at many of these community buildings constructed by the Sindhi community was included. In the same year we had also started “The Sindhu World Directory “to serve as the communication and binding link for the globally scattered Sindhi people, but in short span of time we learned that it will be more useful to concentrate on Sindhi in India. Towards the end of 2009 The Sindhu World Directory becomes “Business Directory of Sindhi in India”.

In 2016 we witness two major developments first the TSW become bilingual website of global Sindhi community as entire website was presented in Sindhi Devanagiri along with English. TSW Sindhi Directory Mobile app was also launched.

In four years 2020 again brought joy, pride and moments of enjoyment for Team TSW as first Famous Sindhi App – Introduction of achiever and famous Sindhi – was launched and in the beginning of 2021 long lasting demand of Sindhi matrimony portal was fulfilled in the form of Sindhu Wedding dot com.

Do keep supporting us for preservation and promotion of Sindhiyat and increasing use of Sindhi Devanagiri on social media and day to day life of every Sindhi family.

Sindhiyat Suhini Rahe

Poem By Poonam Wadhwani

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2022
By Saroj Shahani - Pune

THIS YEAR IS ENDING & NEW YEAR 2022 IS COMING CLOSER.
TIME TO THINK & MAKE NEW BEGINNINGS HAS COME NEAR.
IT IS THE CORRECT TIME TO SET NEW AMBITIONS AND GOALS AND TO ACHIEVE THEM WE HAVE TO MAKE SOME RESOLUTIONS.
A KEY TO BLISS COULD BE BY UNDERSTANDING AND BEING AWARE
SPECIALLY WHEN WE THINK OF LEADING A NORMAL LIFE.
STARTING THE JOURNEY OF ASPIRATIONS WE HAVE TO STRIFE
BY FOLLOWING RIGHT AND CORRECT MOVES AND DIRECTIONS.
ACKNOWLEDGING HIGHER MISSION WE CAN BE PERFECTIONISTS.
LIVING LIFE TO THE FULLEST BY SPENDING QUALITY TIME WITH FAMILY
BY LAUGHING, TALKING , HAVING FUN AND ENJOYING WITH THEM.
DR. KALAM HAS SAID “ LIFE WILL NEVER PROVIDE WARRANTIES AND GUARANTEES, IT CAN ONLY PROVIDE POSSIBILITIES AND OPPORTUNITIES TO CONVERT THEM INTO SUCCESS”.
WITH SINCERE EFFORTS AND HARD WORK EVERYTHING CAN BE ACHIEVED.
I PRAY LET US WELCOME THIS COMING YEAR WITH FAITH & LOVE
AS FAITH MAKES EVERYTHING POSSIBLE
HOPE MAKES EVERYTHING WORK
AND LOVE MAKES EVERYTHING BEAUTIFUL.
SO MAY WE HAVE ALL THREE AND MORE.
EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY OF EVERY MONTH OF YEAR 2022
WISHING EVERYONE A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR

Sindhi Papad

Ingredients:

1/3 cup water

1 cup black gram flour 

1 tsp Sodium Bezoate

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp asafoetida

1 tsp cumin 

1 tsp coarsely ground black pepper

1 tsp to taste

1 tbsp oil 

Method

In a small pan heat some water and after it boils add sodium bezoate and baking soda 

Once the water has cooled, pour it into a mixing bowl and add to it the black gram flour, ground black pepper, salt, asafoetida, cumin.

Once all in start to knead into a soft dough and split it into small ball size pieces.

Allow these to rest for half hour

After half hour start to roll out the balls and make them as flat as you can.

Once they are all done, leave them to dry for 12 hours, every now and again turning them.

Once they are dry you can either roast them or fry them in oil.

Editorial Note:

Sindhi Samachar would like to apologize to our readers for an error that was made in our December Issue, which was pointed out by a couple of our astute readers. The video we posted titled "Hyderabad, Sindh 1945" Submitted by Mohan Dadlani, wrongly claimed to be Hyderabad, Sindh. It, in fact, seemed to be a montage of many other places and perhaps not of the year 1945. We so appreciate our supporters sending in material and we always try our best to maintain the integrity of each piece, but at the same time it is our responsibility to be very conscious that we are not spreading "fake news"! We sincerely apologize and promise to be more vigilant and accurate to the best of our ability.

We thank our readers for their support and in reaching out and holding us accountable.

Launched with love for everything Sindhi, our newsletter, Sindhi Samachar, aims to be circulated amongst our Sindhi family and friends intended to forge unity and interaction within our community. We hope our brothers and sisters globally participate and contribute towards it with your views, Sindhi news, Sindhi jokes, or Sindhi recipes, which we will be happy to publish under your name.

Editorial Content

Raj Daswani

Umesh Daswani

Vini Melwani 

Geeta Raj

Disclaimer:The views and opinions expressed in Sindhi Samachar by our contributors are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the editorial team of Sindhi Samachar. Any content provided by our contributors, bloggers or authors are of their opinion and are not intended to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, individual or anyone or anything.