Introduction

My grandfather grew up in pre-partition, pre-independence India. Join me as I sit down with Nanaji to get a glimpse of that time, and to hear the remarkable story of Hindu and Muslim Panwar Rajputs and a pre-partition panchayat that prevented violence in 56 villages.

At the end of our conversation, I reflect on Nanaji’s stories, asking, what do they mean for us today? What questions does the story of two communities thriving together raise for our present?

Chapter I 
Setting the scene: Growing up in rural Haryana in the 1930s – 40s

Garima: Nanaji, should we start? Okay, tell us…tell me about where you were born and what your childhood was like.

Nanaji: I was born on 27th January 1933, in a village called Kharak Khurd, in district Bhiwani, Haryana (Nanaji has made an error here, this is the correct birth year but not the correct birthdate). My mother was not a very educated lady, but she looked after the children very well. She kept us well fed and I was a very healthy child. My father was in the army. In those days, there was only one primary school in my village – it was upto 4th standard.

Urdu was the main language, but Hindi was also an optional subject. We were two groups – those who studied Urdu and those who studied Hindi. You see, until 1947 Urdu was the language of the court, so everybody wanted to learn Urdu first. When the partition took place and India became independent, everybody thought that now everything will be done in Hindi. Now that India is independent, Muslims have gone to Pakistan and partition has taken place. So then en-bloc people shifted to Hindi. I started studying Hindi only in class 8. Until then I studied Urdu. So even today, it is easier for me to write in Urdu whereas I sometimes have to pause and think while writing in Hindi.

In around the late 50s, Hindi became the language of the court, so people got diverted from Urdu towards Hindi since Hindi became the requirement for legal and practical matters. Also, at that time all higher education was in English. Today subjects like history or geography are taught in Hindi or in the mother tongue. But in those days even these subjects were taught in English.

Garima: So for you, there was a big switch then.

Nanaji: Yes. See, English textbooks were readily available, but no one could understand them. In class 7 or 8 we were perforce given English textbooks We were learning about Akbar in English. But we needed someone to translate these books into Hindi and Urdu. Slowly textbooks became available in Hindi and Urdu as well and people preferred these translated textbooks because they were easy to understand.

Newton’s three laws for instance – the apple falls and so on. We just mugged it up without understanding anything. Force, resistance, etc, we didn’t understand anything, just mugged it up. Only when they were explained to us did we understand.

Garima: So what language did you study in?

Nanaji: Until matriculation (class 10), we studied in English. Most subjects were in English at that time. Perhaps geography had been translated into Hindi, and some portion of history as well. But science subjects and mathematics were still taught in English. It was not too difficult because our syllabus was not so advanced. What students study in class 10 today we studied in BA. Basically, to put it bluntly, under British rule the idea was to study until class 10 and then get a job somewhere as a clerk. That’s all. Very few people went on to higher education. Firstly, they didn’t have enough money, and secondly, there were no colleges nearby.

Garima: Nanaji, when you were growing up in Kharak, what was the village like?

Nanaji: There was hardly any water in the village. All the streets were unmetalled, full of dust. Everything was made with mud and clay. 98% to 99% of houses were made of mud. We used 9-inch bricks – so the houses had thick walls. There were no cement houses – no one had the money to build them.

In my village at that time, there were maybe one or two havelis (large houses). I think one belonged to a JCO who fought in the first great war, and that too was hardly a haveli – it had a large and high gate, but inside it was just a room or two. The other haveli belonged to the baniyas. Even their haveli was just a few rooms over two floors…

In terms of accommodation and convenience, things were very simple. People did not know about all the different materials or conveniences. There were no bathrooms as such – we’d just go to the well and bathe, that’s all. You know how the ladies used to bathe? They’d keep a stool in one corner of the courtyard. Then they’d take a charpai and one of the large ‘forks’ used to lift grass and fodder. They would interlock the two to create a ‘T’ and put a bedsheet over this to create a screen. That’s all, and on the other side of it they’d take a bath and change. At that time the population was quite low, there were large open spaces and no shortage of land. Where there were 3 houses there are 30 today, so this wouldn’t work anymore. But anyway, today every house has everything, its own bathrooms etc.

Garima: What was the agriculture like?

Nanaji: Bajra was a major crop in our region. Normally we’d have only one harvest in the year because it was an arid region – there was hardly any water. If at all we had a second harvest, it would be chickpeans (chana). It needs less water to grow, so if it rained in October or November, we’d quickly sow chickpeas. Wheat rotis were made only for guests. Otherwise, people ate missi roti or bajre ki roti. Bajra and jawar were our staple grains.

At that time, in 1944-45, when the world war was on, wheat was a controlled commodity. It was requisitioned for the army. A ration card holder could get 4-5 kgs of wheat and 1 kg of sugar for a month. During the war, everything was diverted to the army. Only if you feed an army will the soldiers be able to fight. So maximum produce was diverted to the army.

Chapter II
Stirrings of a second mutiny

Nanaji: In 1944 the British sensed that a second mutiny was going to take place – that a rebellion like the one led by Mangal Pandey was developing. In 1944 the second great war was on. So the British passed an order to confiscate all weapons from villages.

The thanedar (police station in charge) and other police personnel came to the village and asked everyone to hand in their weapons. They tied a cow in the village and told the villagers to hold its tail and say that they have no weapons. In such a situation a person’s heart…he cannot lie while holding a cow’s tail. It means he is accepting the cow as his witness. So, a lot of people gave up all their weapons. The thanedar also harassed several senior people of the village. The police confiscated a lot of weapons – weapons enough to fill an entire cart/car were confiscated from our village and taken away.

Now I will tell you what happened with my father. My father was a JCO in the army. He was a Naik Subedar and he was on leave at that time. Someone complained to the police – they reported that so and so person has weapons in his house. The house which had been pointed out to the police belonged to Brahmins. The weapons were probably somewhere else, but this was the location given to the police. The police came and surrounded the house early in the morning and tried to conduct a search. At this time, my father came out of his house for his daily routine. He saw the police sipahis swarming around the house, so he asked them what they were doing there. The police said, sir we’re conducting a search.

My father said, do you know what a search means? You bloody fool, how can you enter his house at this time? There are women inside, they might be sleeping in any state of undress. Don’t you have any decency? My father didn’t slap him, but he curtly told him to sit down outside the house. He said, if you enter this house before 8 am, I am right here. The soldier folded his hands and said, yes sir. So, my father made the police personnel sit outside the house and in the meantime, sent a message to the family whose house the police had come to search, saying, if you have anything, take care of it. In any case, what weapons would Brahmins have? But if they did have some small weapon, they hid it in someone else’s house and later thanked my father.

In those days, if a Britisher, even a low-ranking soldier, came to the village, everyone would be on high alert. We were under British rule after all. If any Britisher came to the village, he was taken as a senior authority. Even if he was wrong, no one would oppose him.

Chapter III

Hindu and Muslim Rajputs and a pre-partition Panchayat

Nanaji: Our ancestors came from Dhar nagari. They set out in search of a place to settle down and when they reached our area (in Haryana), they found it quite suitable and established themselves there.

The leader of our ancestors had three sons. Together they captured thirty-six villages, established their territory, and split the villages amongst the three sons – 12 villages for each. Now, during Aurangzeb’s time, two of the three brothers converted to Islam (here Nanaji made an error – he later corrected himself that only one brother converted to Islam), and one brother remained Hindu (two brothers remained Hindu).

So now there were 12 Hindu Rajput villages (24 Hindu Rajput villages) and 12 and 12, 24 villages of Muslims (12 villages of Muslims). The descendants of those who had converted to Islam also called themselves Muslim Panwar Rajputs, and even today, if you go to that region you will find boards with signs such as ‘Muslim Rajput high-school’. So they remained Rajputs even after converting to Islam.

There was brotherhood between our communities. There was no enmity and their conversion to Islam was never a cause for conflict. In our daughters’ weddings, they would come and contribute to the kanyadaan, and we would do the same. When we used to go to their daughters’ weddings, they would get our food made at a Brahmin or Baniya or Hindu Rajput house in the village – they knew that we have food restrictions and that our diets are very different, so this was the arrangement. And it was going on, no conflicts, no problems. We used to live like one family

Garima: They also used to come to our weddings?

Nanaji: Yes, they used to come for our daughters’ marriages, and we used to go for theirs. When they used to come there was no need to cook separately for them, but when we used to go, usually 5-6 people would go, so their food was prepared in a Hindu house in the village. The Muslim Rajputs knew we would not eat at their homes. So, there were no issues.

During partition, when they were about to leave, we held a panchayat in our village to decide – what should we do? How should we act? Because in many places there was a lot of violence – in Punjab, and in a few places in Haryana as well. In that panchayat, they (Muslim Panwar Rajputs) were also present, and we were also present.

Our brothers who had become Muslim said, we are going now, and we don’t know what will happen to us. There could be violence. So we have told our womenfolk – if there is violence, they will come to you. And protecting them, protecting their honour, this is your duty.

This was a big thing, an honour, a big responsibility for us. We agreed and it was passed in the panchayat.

But there are people who will say unnecessary, inappropriate things. One such person spoke at the panchayat – I won’t say what caste he belonged to, though I know, or rather, I would say – a Jat got up and said, look Hakim Ali (generic name), now you must leave, our blood is boiling.

Then and there, Hakim Ali responded – Come, let us sort this out now itself. We are holding back out of respect for our brothers, but if you want to fight, then come, let’s fight. In the violence we will die, and so will you. So it’s your decision, if you want to fight, by all means, come, let’s fight. He challenged him right there. But nothing happened. The decision was taken that they (Muslim Rajputs) are leaving, and there will be no violence. And so, without any incident, without any violence, they loaded their carts and left for Pakistan.

Garima: You had gone to see them off, hadn’t you?

Nanaji: We saw them leave. They harnessed their bullock carts, loaded their belongings, and set off…I don’t know what happened later, but from our villages, they boarded trains for Pakistan without any violence. I have heard they faced a lot of violence on the way, but in the end, they reached Pakistan.

And even after that, some of those who had left came back to visit us. They said, we have gone there, but it doesn’t feel like home. Part of the reason was that in Pakistan they were not considered real Muslims. Their ancestors were converts and so in Pakistan, they were not considered very ‘good’ Muslims. In such conditions, people came back to their native villages to talk about their experiences and share their difficulties. They came a few times, after that they stopped.

But, in our region, there was no violence. Well, actually, once an entire village attacked another village – a Muslim village.

Garima: This happened in your region?

Nanaji: Yes, close to Bhiwani. To defend their village two Muslim Rajput boys got on horses, took hold of their weapons, and rode straight into the crowd of attackers. Thousands of people fell back and retreated to their village and violence was averted.

After that, the panchayat had already taken a decision that nobody would commit violence. After all, we were all brothers a few generations ago. The Muslims in our region had not come from somewhere else. They were converts. Maybe a few might have come at some time from somewhere else, but mostly the Muslims in our region were converts.

We were 36 villages in total, of those 12 converted to Islam, 24 remained Hindu. Those who became Muslims went to Pakistan, and in their place, our Hindu brothers came from Pakistan. Now there is no problem, everyone has the same food habits, the same lifestyle. These things were different between the Hindu and Muslim Rajputs. But even then, there was never any violent conflict over this. In our region, I believe, no violence ever took place between our two communities. Because people used to remind each other of their shared history – we have all descended from the same family, the same three brothers, so we were all branches of the same tree, part of the same pyramid. And we reminded each other of this fact, so there were no conflicts. People would say, they’re our brothers after-all. It was the same blood, wasn’t it? So people would not get into conflicts easily.

Garima: So Nanaji, if everything was good between Rajput Muslims and Rajput Hindus in your area, why did the Muslims leave? Why did they go to Pakistan?

Nanaji: Because earlier they had opted to. When people were asked whether they wanted to go to Pakistan, the Muslim Rajputs chose to go.

Garima: You mean, there was proper voting for it?

Nanaji: Look, near Gurgaon there is still a large community of Muslims in the region called Mewat. The Muslims of Mewat refused to go to Pakistan, so they did not leave, they still live in Mewat. If the Muslim Panwar Rajputs had also refused to go, they too could have stayed back – there was no force. They opted to go to Pakistan, this was the mood, the fervour at the time.

Garima: But why did they opt?

Nanaji: Because they were Muslims, and they felt that there is a separate country being made for Muslims, if they remain in India they will only face harassment, that Hindus would dominate free India and so on, this was their state of mind at that time. So they opted to go to Pakistan, and since they opted to go, then they had to move. If they had not opted to go, they too could have remained in their native villages, as the people of Mewat did. The Muslims of Mewat refused to leave, they wanted to stay back in Mewat and in India itself. So they didn’t leave.

In that pre-partition panchayat someone stood up and said, Hakim Ali our blood is boiling, finish this quickly. Hakim Ali stood up and challenged him immediately – we are only demurring because of our brothers. Come if you want to fight, come right now and we will settle this. He answered back then and there in a panchayat of 50-60 villages. So, what I mean to say is, it’s not as if they were scared of anyone. Jats and Muslim Rajputs would get into fights often, but no violence broke out in our region.

Garima: Did you see that panchayat?

Nanaji: Yes, I was there at that panchayat in our village. When this happened, I was right there. Baba Muda, an uneducated man, and the senior-most in the village was made president of that panchayat of 56 villages, the one that took place before partition.

And what great decisions he took. He forbade everyone from violence, reminding everyone that we were brothers only a few generations ago. He made it clear – nobody will commit any violence.

Garima: How many villages participated in that panchayat?

Nanaji: 56 villages. Apart from our villages of Hindu and Muslim Rajputs, there were villages of other communities as well, there were Jat villages, Ahir villages, and so on. They were all there, but no one got into any arguments, and if someone did say something untoward, someone else would immediately get up and disagree, so the argument was dismissed then and there.

People had decided, this is the government’s decision, why should we die unnecessarily? The government has decided these people have to go to Pakistan, so why are we fighting? What has it got to do with us? This was the mindset of our people. You will kill ten of them and lose ten of your own people, but they will still go to Pakistan, won’t they? You can’t stop them, it’s the government’s decision. So the best thing is, don’t commit any violence at all. And so no violence took place.

Garima: Did anybody stay back from the Muslim Rajput community?

Nanaji: Yes, two families stayed back. They had become Muslims only a few generations ago, so they requested the panchayat that look, we were converted to Islam only a few generations ago, take us back as Hindus. The panchayat said okay, we take you back.

Now, after a few years, when their daughters were of marriageable age, nobody was willing to marry them.

Garima: Why?

Nanaji: They were converts, weren’t they? They had just converted back into Hinduism from Islam, so people were not ready to marry their daughters. Even though the girls were educated and beautiful, nothing was wrong with them. Finally, a few such men came forward who hadn’t been able to find matches for themselves. So the girls were married to two of these men. Once those initial marriages took place, then there was no problem, no hesitation.

Garima: They became part of the community once again?

Nanaji: Yes. I don’t even know where they settled and what happened later, but I know that those two families stayed back in India, and once their daughters were married into Hindu Rajput families, the issue was over. We had already accepted them as Hindus, and once such relations are established through marriage, once your children are married, then of course such issues are over.

Garima: When Hindu Rajputs would go to Muslim Rajput weddings, and they would not eat the food prepared at the wedding, they wouldn’t sleep there, did the Muslim Rajputs ever feel bad about this?

Nanaji: No, not at all, in fact, made separate arrangements for food and so on for the Hindu Rajputs. They knew that the Hindu Rajputs would not eat at the wedding, so they made arrangements in advance. And after the meal, the Hindu Rajputs would return to the wedding and they would sit together.

Another thing they did not share was hookah. Hindu and Muslim Rajputs would not share the same hookah. If they did, Hindu Rajputs would remove the wooden pipe at the end and then smoke the hookah. When it was passed around to the Muslim Rajputs, they would reinsert the pipe and smoke. But, this was not really an issue.

Garima: These things did not matter? They were not a problem?

Nanaji: No. If I correctly remember, there were never conflicts between our communities. During partition, they left in peace, and we went some part of the way to see them off. And even after settling in Pakistan some of them came back to meet us again. So, we did have a strong bond between us. They might have become Muslims a few generations ago, but at the end of the day, our roots were the same, we were branches of the same tree.

Chapter IV

A changed region, a changed people

Garima: That was a very different time Nanaji. I am listening to your stories and realising, things were very different before partition and before independence, and they changed significantly after these events.

Nanaji: The difference was that earlier you knew peoples’ roots. Whether they were Rajput or Brahmin or Muslim, they were after all born on that land, in that environment. Everyone knew multiple generations of each other’s families or knew of them. As a result, people thought ten times before getting into a fight. But if you don’t know who I am, if I don’t know who you are, then we can say whatever we want to each other, what does it matter? This was the difference.

Epilogue – What do these stories mean for us today?

Garima: For me, these stories are more than just nostalgia. I think they raise important questions for our present as well. To give just one example, from school onwards we are taught about India’s ‘unity in diversity’ – that India is a very diverse country and yet we manage to live together peacefully. But at the same time, we have very particular ideas about how communities should behave in order for us to be able to say that they are living together peacefully, successfully.

Now let’s take Nanaji’s story. Here we have two communities who literally consider each other family and yet, one of these communities would not eat in the houses of the other community. Imagine if this happened today, imagine if you see this happening today. We would find it deeply uncomfortable; we would find it unacceptable, we would find it problematic.

But when we look at Nanaji’s story we know that even though this one thing of not eating together as part of the relationship of these two communities they still had a very deep and very strong relationship. We only need to look at what happened, what they were able to do during partition, to know that.

For me, this raises the question; Where does this story fit into our ideas about unity in diversity?

About managing coexistence? And then it raises the next question, where do our ideas about these things come from?

Over the centuries Indians have found millions of ways of handling their differences and still being able to thrive together. After hearing Nanaji’s story and looking at my own immediate reactions to it, I wonder, are these ideas stopping us from actually seeing the reality of how different communities have found ways of living together that accommodate their differences?

These were some of the questions that were important for me after I heard Nanaji’s stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and reactions, what stood out to you, and what questions have arisen for you? So please, do leave your reactions in the comments below. My idea with this video was to start a conversation and I hope you will join me.

Link to video: https://youtu.be/ZgpC4P_GRR4