The family stayed with Chandra, the eldest daughter, for two to three months, after which Chandra’s in-laws also came to stay there. There were now 13 to 14 people living in a one-bedroom house, so Dharamrai and his family moved in with his brother who had settled in Bombay well before Partition. There were other members of the extended family who were living there too, a total of 18 people in a three-bedroom house. Sushila had joined Bombay University but found it difficult to commute from South Bombay to the Kalina campus. She dropped out of university. Ratna was studying at Government Law College. During her exams, she would try to stay in college till 8 pm, for as long as the library was open. Then, after dinner, she would study on the landing on the top floor, all alone. There were many people sleeping in each room, and they didn’t want the light on. After staying here for some months, they shifted to an empty house in Sion, next door to their mother’s brother. They lived there for three months after which they moved to their brother’s small rented flat in Marine Lines. This flat had only one bedroom and a bathroom; the family would cook in the corridor inside the house. When Sushila got married in 1950, the family came back to live with Chandra. After her wedding, they got an empty house in Dhobi Talao to use for six months.
Wherever they were living – at Chandra’s house, at their uncle’s, in Sion, or at Dhobi Talao – they would go looking for vacant flats. By this time, Dharamrai Shivdasani had fallen quite ill, and so it was incumbent on Sita to search for a house. She would spend the bulk of the day house-hunting, and come back late in the afternoon to eat lunch. Government servants would ask for bribes, which the family could not afford. Sita Shivdasani ultimately found a suitable flat in a building in Churchgate, and paid an advance of Rs 10,000 to the agent. However, she was not destined to get this flat – another Sindhi family bribed the agent to get the flat registered in their name. Ironically, this second family had been old friends of Sita’s parents in Hyderabad. While the husband in this particular family argued that he did not want to bribe the agent, that he would not be able to look Sita in the eye again, the wife insisted on having that precise house.
Finally, after three years, the Shivdasanis moved into their own house in Shyam Niwas in South Bombay in the October of 1950.9
Other Sindhis found other ways to obtain accommodation. Meenu Gidwani (nee Kirpalani) was a six-year-old girl at the time of Partition, and sailed from Karachi to Bombay with her family. She tells us that her father had a Gujarati friend in Karachi, one Mr Bhat, who gave him the address of Hargovind Shah, his friend in Bombay, along with a letter of introduction. Meenu Gidwani recalls:
We reached Bombay’s Ballard Pier and there were many people at the dock, wanting to see how loads of people were arriving by ship. One of the people there was my grandmother’s brother, Dr. Thakur Ramchandani. He was a colonel with the Indian Army. He had come casually to see what was happening and he was shocked to see his sister and the whole family there. He had a flat in Colaba and he took our whole family to his house. There were government people shouting there, ‘Refugees! Refugees! Refugees!’ They were rounding up the refugees and sending them to Kalyan camp. My father said, ‘I am not a refugee. My money will come from Karachi. I am a well-off person, I will not go to Kalyan camp.’ He refused to be called a ‘refugee.’
Thakur Uncle had told us that we needed to look out for alternative accommodation quickly, after the initial couple of days. My father went to Hargovind Shah and gave him Mr. Bhat’s note and requested him to give us accommodation, assuring him that soon our money would come from Karachi and we would leave. [Mr. Shah] said that he did not have a place to offer us but he could offer us a godown near Fort market.
It had a very long terrace on the first floor, attached to the two-room flat, and there was an attic upstairs. He was using it as a godown. There were huge rats there, the size of cats and there were hollows in the walls filled with lakhs of bugs. He removed the crates. My father got the flat plastered and painted, converted it into a nice clean flat and made it into a livable place. We used to sleep on the floor. […]
Dad’s heels used to be bitten by big rats at night. He would not even feel their nibbling at his heels until the morning when he would see the heels red with blood. Sometimes, centipedes crawled around his heels.
Somehow, we beautified the place and made it into a lovely home. We even got rid of those dangerous pests. […] Dad suffered a nervous breakdown and became short-tempered for some time, since he alone, a young man, had to look after his family and work at so many different things at the same time. Earlier, he had gone to Calcutta from Karachi and had learnt to manufacture pesticides and disinfectants. Soon he started his business and we lived a decent life.10
The Kripalani family shifted to a flat in the better neighbourhood of Colaba. Meenu Gidwani continued to live in Bombay after she got married.
Being an enterprising community, the Sindhis began constructing their own homes. When Sindhis first came en masse to Bombay after Partition, buildings were generally owned by a single owner, and apartments were leased out to various people. Although the first cooperative housing society was established in Gamdevi for the Chitrapur Saraswat Brahmin community by Rao Bahadur S. S. Talmaki in the early 20th century, it has become a Sindhi legend that the cooperative housing society was a new concept invented by the community in the city of Bombay. It is true though that, over time, the Sindhis – some of whom could afford to own an apartment but not an entire building – contributed significantly to popularising the cooperative housing society in Bombay.
In 1950, the businessman and philanthropist, Bhagwansing Advani, set up the Shyam Niwas group of buildings (and later Nanik Niwas) at Warden Road in Bombay. This housing society was originally intended to be built in Karachi; after Partition, it was constructed in Bombay instead. Other buildings constructed by Sindhis in the years soon after Partition included Sind Chambers and Mohini Mansions and several others at Colaba. The first Navjivan Society – mainly intended for Sindhi refugees – was set up in Mahim in 1959; subsequently, other Navjivan Societies came up in Matunga, Chembur, Lamington Road and Vile Parle. These were largely the brainchild of Jethi Sipahimalani, the Congress worker, who had been the deputy speaker in the Sindh Assembly, and later became the deputy speaker of the Vidhan Sabha in Bombay. Over the years, Sindhis have made a name for themselves in the construction industry in Bombay.
Gandhidham: A ‘New Sindh’
Bhai Pratap Dialdas, popularly known as Bhai Pratap, was an affluent Bhaiband businessman from Hyderabad. In Sindh, he was known for his wealth, his appreciation of arts and culture, his philanthropy and his generous support for the Congress and the freedom movement. In late 1947, once the exodus of Hindus from Sindh had started (albeit on a small scale), Bhai Pratap was seized with the idea of finding a homeland for Sindhis in India. According to the writer Gulab Gidwani, he was inspired by the Jews and their determination to have their promised land.
Bhai Pratap had heard that, after much research, a Scottish engineer had suggested that Kandla be developed as a port, and had even submitted development plans to the colonial government. Bhai Pratap had noted down the Scottish engineer’s name and asked the manager of his London office, Kishinchand Malkani11 to locate this person. Subsequently, he entered into a detailed correspondence with this Scottish engineer, who then sent him his report together with maps of Kandla. These papers strengthened his resolve. Kutch was under-populated, and with a language, climate and terrain similar (since contiguous) to Sindh. The port of Kandla, then much smaller than it is today, was viewed as a potential substitute for Karachi.
Then Bhai Pratap, with Dr Choithram Gidwani and Mrs Talibai Daulatram (Jairamdas Daulatram’s wife) went to meet Gandhi, to ask for his help to resettle Sindhis at Kandla. According to Gulab Gidwani, Vallabhbhai Patel also agreed to this plan, which was a vital advantage, given his sway over the rulers of princely states.12
At Gandhi’s instance, Maharao Madansinhji Jadeja, son of Vijayrajji, the then kin
g of Kutch, donated 15,000 acres of land to the Sindhi refugees. The certificate granting freeholdship of land to the Sindhu Resettlement Corporation was signed on 29 January 1948 in Bhuj, and a telegram informing Gandhi of this was sent the next day. A deputation of Sindhi leaders called on Gandhi, to thank him for his intervention and help, just hours before he was assassinated.
The Sindhu Resettlement Corporation Ltd (SRC) was formed in early 1948 to set up a township for displaced Sindhi Hindus. It had J. B. Kripalani as the chairman and Bhai Pratap as the managing director, and a board of directors composed of prominent Sindhis and Kutchis. Shares of the company were issued in a cooperative spirit; no single person was allowed to hold more than 25 shares and the dividend was restricted to 6 per cent. Any profit in excess of 6 per cent was to be used for educational, medical and cultural purposes. In December 1948, the Ministry of Rehabilitation gave the SRC a fillip in the form of a loan of Rs 1.1 crores. Since the concept had Gandhi’s blessings, and since a portion of Gandhi’s ashes were subsequently immersed in the Kandla creek nearby in February 1948, the township was named after him: Gandhidham.
Hundraj Lilaram ‘Dukhayal’, Gandhian and Congress worker, and later Padma Shri, intended to continue to live in Sindh, in accordance with Gandhi’s tenets. However, he was forced to migrate in 1949 for fear of an attempt to assassinate him. In Bombay, he met Bhai Pratap who spoke passionately about his plans for a ‘New Sindh’. In May 1949, the two of them came by ferry to Kandla.
Initially, ‘Dukhayal’ was somewhat sceptical of Bhai Pratap’s plans; he felt that it had been almost two years since Partition, and many Sindhi Hindus had made great progress in settling down in India. Why would they wish to displace themselves yet again? According to ‘Dukhayal’ however, Bhai Pratap was quite enthusiastic and resolute. He was more than willing to take the risk of floating this project. ‘Dukhayal’ remembers that Bhai Pratap said: ‘You will come, no? I will also come. The two of us will live here.’ Then he laughed out loud, and said, ‘Both of us will stay here, no? We will become 12. Then from 12 we’ll become 42, then 1,200, then 12,000, then 12,00,000. We will build a new Sindh. Paternal cousins, maternal cousins, people will come in droves. We will give them business, jobs, we will build offices, we will start a company. We will make a New Sindh.’
Bhai Pratap offered to pay ‘Dukhayal’ a salary of Rs 500 per month, but the latter refused. He wanted only his expenses reimbursed; he didn’t want to be a financial burden on the SRC. Bhai Pratap agreed to pay him from his own pocket. ‘Dukhayal’ says that Bhai Pratap was crystal clear that he wanted to build the new town at a distance from the existing town of Anjar: He didn’t want the two towns to merge over time.
The two paid a visit to the Maharao of Kutch, whose mother spoke in Sindhi to ‘Dukhayal’. She assured him that Sindhis and Kutchis were one people with one language, since the Jadeja kings of Kutch had migrated from Sindh 500 years ago. ‘Dukhayal’ tells us that the Maharao did not take a single rupee for the land or the assistance that he gave the Sindhis.
Now, ‘Dukhayal’ found himself infected by Bhai Pratap’s excitement. Being a poet at heart, he began to write songs about a ‘New Sindh’. At Bhai Pratap’s request, ‘Dukhayal’ started touring Sindhi refugee camps all over India, especially in the four present-day states that held several Sindhis: Maharashtra, Gujarat, Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh. ‘Dukhayal’ says: ‘I’d tell the Sindhis, “We are getting our own land in Kutch, our own state. The language is the same. Here it is: kya hai, kyun hai. Let’s go there so we can hear: chha-chha, chho-chho. We will be next to Sindh, our erstwhile home.’”
Whichever city he went to, he would personally talk to the Sindhi inhabitants; whichever house he stayed in, he would urge the residents to pack and move to Kutch. Despite his best efforts, however, the migration of people into Kutch was slow. A disappointed ‘Dukhayal’ felt that he had to do something. So, on occasion, he would pretend to cry. People would ask, ‘Why are you weeping?’ He would answer, ‘Very few people are coming to Gandhidham.’ In some cases, his tears struck a chord, for onlookers would say, ‘Dada is crying! Come, let’s go settle in Gandhidham.’ ‘Dukhayal’ says: ‘When people start residing in a locality, shops always come up. Sindhis, by temperament, are enterprising. They started building markets. They began by selling from their houses, then they built shops, then the market was constructed. Sindhis kept coming. This became the new Sindh.’
Hundraj ‘Dukhayal’ spent the rest of his life in Gandhidham, and continued to contribute to its social and educational institutions.13
Workers from the Gandhi Khidmat Ghar in Rato Dero as well as from Kutch Saurashtra Seva Dal were trained for spreading propaganda in Sindhi refugee camps. They, and Hassanand Jadugar, a popular magician remembered more for his folk poetry, travelled to various Sindhi refugee camps and settlements, and tried to persuade Sindhis to move to Gandhidham. Appeals to help establish a ‘New Sindh’ appeared in Sindhi newspapers such as Sansar Samachar and Hindustan. The Gandhidham Maitri Mandal, a social service organisation, was established to help find jobs for the incoming refugees who came to Gandhidham from various parts of India.14
The new Sindhi settlement was envisioned as a triangle: the port of Kandla, the residential area of Adipur and the commercial town of Gandhidham. In 1949-50, the SRC began constructing the twin cities of Adipur and Gandhidham, providing for houses, shops, schools, roads, a power house, water works, drainage, trees and parks, hospitals, bridges, a club, cinemas and local transport. There was also a temple, dedicated to Shiva, by the name of Nirvasteshwar, lord of the refugees. Development was thoroughly planned by several international urban planning consultants.
However, there were severe funding constraints, and as a result, materials used for construction were often sub-standard. Moreover, houses were given on heavily subsidised rents to needy Sindhi refugees, some as low as two rupees per month. Subsequently, these houses were acquired by the tenants.
Legend has it that when the township was being set up in the middle of cacti, sand and thorny bushes, there were so many snakes and scorpions in the region that the SRC offered 25 paise for a dead scorpion and 50 paise for a dead snake. The initial grant of 15,000 acres proved to be far in excess of what was needed, and in 1955, this was reduced to 2,600 acres.
Pritam Varyani, who had survived the Hyderabad violence by the skin of his teeth, had migrated with his family to Ajmer. He recalls how, as a young man in his early 20s, he participated in the building of Gandhidham:
I was living in Ajmer, pursuing a course in a technical institute, when ‘Dukhayal’ happened to visit. I knew him from Sindh; he used to visit our Rashtra Seva Dal branch in Umarkot. He had come to Ajmer to publicise Gandhidham, and he convinced me to move there.
Initially, in Gandhidham, there were just 50 of us, who had come at the request of ‘Dukhayal’ and Bhai Pratap. Only Bhai Pratap had a house, the rest of us were all living in tents. We ate in a communal mess. The place was filled with scorpions and snakes.
Houses were built in Adipur first, and later in Gandhidham.We started building houses at the end of 1950, and then we stayed in these first houses that we had built. They had only four walls and a roof, just one room with no doors and windows. When we ventured out, we’d stand up our cots in front of the doorway so that no dog or other animal could enter in our absence.
In Gandhidham, I started rebuilding my life. I had left my matriculation halfway, so I completed the examinations here. This city did not have a municipality; instead the SRC had a health department. My career began with an appointment with the health department. I worked there for two years. We would get four rupees a day. It was enough for our daily meals. There were no shops to buy groceries from; every week we would go in a big truck to Anjar to get our rations: flour, tea, vegetables.
All of us, as young men – the youth from Sindh, between the ages of 20 and 35 – formed a youth circle here, the Nav Yuvak Group, in 1950. This was the first social institution in Gand
hidham. We helped people get jobs in companies in Kandla, and if they faced problems, we would help them write applications to redress their grievances. We taught children Sindhi, made them practise physical exercises. We put up Sindhi plays for the entertainment of poor refugees. We opened a library. We promoted the Sindhi language and Sindhi art and culture. We had prabodh, or self-awareness classes for children, in which we taught them how to be good human beings. We had a couple of doctors amongst us, who started giving free medical treatment to the poor. Bhai Pratap encouraged us and gave us land for our work.
Bhai Pratap had started the Maitri High School in Adipur, run by the Maitri Mandal. But there was also a great need for a school in Gandhidham. So in 1951, three of us from the Nav Yuvak Group – Bhagwan Abichandani, Subiram Lalchandani and myself – quit our jobs and started the Adarsh Vidyalaya in Gandhidham. We were the teachers in the new school. We took donations from some people, took benches from a few others and secured a government grant to meet half our expenses. We didn’t draw our full salaries. We would take a salary of one rupee per day to meet our expenses. We donated the rest of our salaries to the school to meet the deficit. There was no other way of making ends meet.
Gradually we established ourselves, established the school, and it acquired a good reputation. In 1955, Bhai Pratap offered to take the school under umbrella of the Maitri Mandal. So we handed over our school to him, and then we worked there as employees. Now it has become the Adarsh Mahavidyalaya and has flourished further.15
One of the families that settled in Gandhidham was that of the educationist and singer Teji Bhojwani. At the age of six, in 1947, she had come to Ajmer with her family from Samaro, in the south of Sindh. Teji Bhojwani recalls her journey to India and her arrival in Adipur:
From Samaro we came by train straight to Ajmer because my cousin had already moved there; he came to receive us. In Ajmer we stayed in Diggi Bazaar, in my cousin’s house; my mother’s distant relatives lived upstairs. They were fairly well off, so they gave a room downstairs to my cousin, and my cousin in turn gave us the veranda. Our lives were lived in that tiny space: cooking, sleeping, talking, everything.
THE MAKING OF EXILE Page 28