Whispers Across The Ravi

Have you ever thought about the curious idea of two entities existing in such perfect
harmony, their very being seemingly tied together, questioning the mere concept of their
separation? But what happens when they're ripped apart, torn from each other? What's left
then? Can these severed pieces, though in pain from the separation, ever truly live alone?
Or are they doomed to wander endlessly, forever longing for a reunion that will heal their
broken existence?.

Ali Mirza complemented Yasmeen Faraz with the same grace and inevitability as the stars
complete the night sky.They were the students of DAV College, nestled in the vibrant
heart of Lahore.These two, fellow students amidst a diverse tapestry of students from the
subcontinent, carried within them a connection as undeniable as the shared heritage of
Lahore and its inseparable twin, Amritsar.

Ali Mirza possessed an undeniable charm and a gaze that held a subtle magnetism. His
light brown eyes, the colour of sun-dappled earth, were windows to his kind soul. Hailing
from a middle-class but very well educated Sunni Muslim family in Lahore's
Gawalmandi area, Ali tended towards a reserved nature. He confided in just one trusted
soul, his best friend Khawar Siddiqui, a bond stronger than any blood tie.

Yasmeen Faraz, a name that whispered of love, and grace , embodied these very qualities.
Her raven hair cascading down her back like a midnight waterfall. Her dark, dove-like
eyes held a spark that mirrored the playful glint of the silver nose pin adorning her face.
The large jhumkas in her ears, somehow, always seemed to perfectly complement her
vivacious personality. Hailing from a wealthy Amritsari family, where her father, Faraz
Ahmed, presided over their family business, Yasmeen opted to pursue the Arts at DAV
College, choosing the dormitory life for a taste of independence.

Unlike many yearning souls who never got a taste of love's embrace, Ali Mirza and
Yasmeen Faraz found their hearts entangled with effortless ease. Love came easy to them.
Theirs was a love as natural as the rising sun, an undeniable truth woven into the very
fabric of their being or as they thought of it. Simple joys, like sharing evening tea in the
bustling cafeteria or the weekly ritual of Ali's gajray offering on Tuesdays, became
testaments to the depth of their bond.
In 1947 when Pakistan and India got divided, It wasn't just land that was carved, but the
very fabric of a shared history over a century, was brutally ripped apart. Families, once
bound by love and understanding, found themselves divided by a newly drawn border.
Hopes, dreams, and the very essence of togetherness were cleaved in two, leaving a
gaping wound upon the land. The echoes of this partition would forever reverberate in our
conscious.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

10th of August 1947.

“How can you be so sure about this? It isn’t like He’s (Cyrill Radcliffe) marking the
boundaries with your suggestions Ali” said Yasmeen in a tensed tone sitting inside the
bustling cafeteria of DAV College which recently got renovated and still smelled of baked
bricks.

“No, I have read about it in the newspaper. The states with Muslim Majority are being
given to Pakistan. Lahore and Amritsar already have major Muslim population so there is
no way both are getting separated” said Ali trying to ease out the already tensed Yasmeen.

“But what about Sikhs? Don’t they have their holy places back at my Amritsar would
they let them go into Pakistan?” asked Yasmeen.
“Nobody is asking nobody to leave Yasmeen even after partition, everyone can continue
to live where they live” “But I am sure no Muslim would like to live in India.”

“You know you are the most important part of my day. You complete me in ways
unspoken of. Just the thought of getting separated and not seeing you sent chills across
my spine. I would stand between the heavens and the earth even if they try to separate
you from me” gripping Ali’s hand tightly, she spoke.

“Believe me when I say this mujhe tum say koi alag nhn karsakta1. You are the bane of
my existence Yasmeen. There is nothing I would not do to see your beautiful beautiful
chehra2 everyday” Ali’s gaze met Yasmeen’s, his mirroring her intensity. He gripped her
hand more tightly – a silent exchange of comfort and unspoken truths.

1- In English : No one can separate me from you 2-In English: face

With every second ticking by the fear in their hearts kept growing but a stubborn hope
remained. For centuries Lahore and Amritsar have been intertwined. Both of them clung
to the belief that this connection would weather any storm.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

17th of August 1947

It was the most unfortunate dawn as Cyrill Radcliff announced the Boundary of Punjab
and to their worst horrors there was a line drawn right between the two hearts of the Ravi
– Lahore and Amritsar. Ali and Yasmeen were in the Social Politics Class when this news
broke.The classroom descended into pure chaos. Everyone including the teacher, bolted
out the door in a rush. It was only Ali and Yasmeen in the class room sitting in sheer
silence conversing through their eyes. It seemed like all their worst nightmares came true
at once. Ali then mustered the strength of starting the conversation.

“This cannot be true. This cannot happen by any rules set by them” He said as if there
was still a ray of hope left in his heart.

“Don’t you see outside Ali (eyes pointing toward the chaos outside in the hallways visible
through the classrooms window) It is done. They have ripped this heritage apart.” tears
rolled down her eyes. “I cannot live without you Ali” this line contained all the sadness of
the universe combined.

“Do you think I will be able to breathe without you? No meri jasmeenay1. Marry me and
stay in Lahore with me. We will be happy here.”

“Stay here in Lahore? What about maa baba2 and my sisters? Just leave them? You are
asking me something I cannot do. I can’t just rip Amritsar apart of me.” Yasmeen said in
an affirming tone. “So, you would leave for Amritsar then? With I here alone” asked Ali.

Before Yasmeen could answer the question Alis friend Khawar walked into the classroom
with his breath short from running.

1- In English: No my Yasmeen
2- In English: Mom and Dad
“Yasmeen the headmaster Hans Raj Sahab is calling for you in the office I think its your
father on the landline” told Khawar and Yasmeen then rushed towards the room. Khawar
saw Ali sitting in a very sad state he went and sat where Yasmeen was sitting.

“She is leaving for Amritsar, isn’t she?” Khawar asked as his hand reached the shoulder
of Ali. “I have asked her to stay but I will be a fool to expect her to stay brother. It would
be the same to ask me about leaving Lahore. I have lived my life here. It’s impossible for
me to just pack my bags and go there and what would I do in a no man’s land. I would be
a complete stranger there and with these riots the first task would be to make it alive” “It
is not like I don’t love her. I have never loved anyone more than her and you don’t know
how many times I have asked for her in my prayers. Par mai chah kar bhi unna no saath
nhn rehskda.” (I can’t live without her even if I want to)

As he said this, Yasmeen came running into the classroom again, hugged Ali and started
crying. “Abbu is asking me to come to Amritsar at once. He is saying once the riots are
settled then I can come meet you, but I cannot bear the pain of separation. Just thinking
about it is making me cold.”

“I think he is right Yasmeen you must go to Amritsar at once. You are his daughter your
safety and security is his number one priority and mine also. I’ve have been told that they
are kicking Amritsari and Hindus out of Lahore. In face of such chaos, you should leave
for Amritsar right now. I assure you when everything is cooled down, I will come to you,”
said Ali.

“You promise?” asked Yasmeen. “Yes, I do”

Yasmeen then went on the dormitory packed her bags and then Ali and Khawar dropped
her at the railway station. She left for Amritsar and never came back.

Some loves are better incomplete. Years turned to dust, etching lines on Ali’s face like a
map of his loss. Every year on the day they were ripped apart he used to buy gajray and
leave them at Lahore Station. Amritsar, a whispered word on his lips remained a promise
forever unkept, a love forever stranded on the wrong side in a line drawn in blood, a love
he would never hold again.