1984

A Front Row Seat to History

ISHNAN KAUR

I first moved to Canada, with my parents in 1963. I was 5 years old at the time. 

In 1974, after completing high school in Sudbury, Ontario, I returned to Punjab, to discover my roots. It was supposed to be for one year. It turned out to be 10. 

Ten years, during which I completed my Bachelor’s, my Master’s, got married, had my first child and, for a brief period of time, had a front row seat to history.

As a young Sikh and hopeful journalist, I watched the Sikh agitation for greater autonomy. In 1983, Sadhu Singh Hamdard, the founder and owner of the Punjabi newspaper, Ajit, launched an English weekly, The Ajit Weekly.

Despite having spent years studying Chemistry, I had always known that language was my first love. Earlier, in 1978, in my final year of my Master’s, I applied for and was accepted as an Associate Editor at the Indian Express, India’s largest English-language newspaper.

I moved to Chandigarh and joined the editorial staff. It was for a short while only as I had to give that up to finish my Master’s, but it was enough to whet my teeth.  Difficult as it was to give it up, I knew deep down that I would return to working with words, just as soon as I could.

The opportunity came in 1983, when I was hired to work on The Ajit Weekly in Jalandhar, Punjab. I lived in Ludhiana at that time. Every Monday morning, I would pick up little Deep Kaur (she was 2 weeks old when I got the job), and get on a bus to Jalandhar.

Every Saturday, I would make the reverse trek.

At Ajit Weekly, I worked under S. Prithipal Singh Kapur, an eminent and well-respected historian, educator, and author of a dozen books on Sikh history. As Chief Editor, he was in the right spot. Ajit Weekly espoused the Sikh cause and many eminent people came to visit the newsroom. 

Times were turbulent. Chilling acts of violence took place every day. Punjab had been declared “a disturbed area”, and presidential rule imposed. That is, the elected government of the state had been suspended and it was directly under the rule of the central government based in New Delhi.

Hundreds of people, Sikh and Hindu, died. Curfews and hartals (strikes) were a common occurrence. Once when the Hindus vowed to shut down the city, I vowed to go to work regardless. Normally, I would bike to work. That day, I took a rickshaw.  The rickshaw-walla said that he would be in big trouble if anyone saw him ferrying a passenger, that too a Sikh woman, on a day of hartal. I told him that if any harm came to his rickshaw, I would pay for the repair. The rickshaw-walla agreed and off we started. 

As we got close to the Ajit Office, just when I thought we had made it, I saw a procession of Hindus shouting slogans, and coming towards us. Before I knew it, the rickshaw was surrounded by a group of men, menacing and abusive. 

“Look at the Sikhni (Sikh woman)”, one said. “Someone tell her there is a hartal today.” In my daze, I pulled out my press card and waved it at them.

What a foolish gesture that was. As if anything, much less a measly card, would stop a frenzied mob. My heart pounded. I saw the rickshaw-walla being punched and kicked. Then, out of the melee, one courageous young man stepped up. He was also a Hindu and he seemed to have some authority.

He lifted his hand as if to strike out, and shouted to the hooligans surrounding the rickshaw. He ordered them to move away.

Once he had made a path to the rickshaw, he told the driver to get on the seat and start moving. He himself ran alongside the rickshaw, with his hands folded in apology towards me, until the vehicle and I were clear of the rowdy crowd. 

When I caught my breath and looked around again, the crowd and the man who had silenced them, were gone.

The helplessness, bewilderment and terror of that day is something that I will never forget. Similarly, I will forever remember with gratitude that anonymous young man. Had he not appeared at that very moment, the outcome may well have been very different.

Another incident, which took place during those same turbulent times, allowed me a peek deep into the inner machinations of the movement.

On January 14, 1984, I received a very strange phone call while at my desk at Ajit. It was a male, who would not identify himself. His message to me was that I was on his radar, that he was keeping his eye on me and on what I was doing, and that I would soon have the opportunity to serve the panth. He assured me that I had nothing to fear and that things would eventually make sense.

A few days later, I received this letter:

January 13, 1984

My dear Biba Ishnan Kaur,

I have read with great interest some of your write ups in the English Ajit.  I think you write very well. I also think or rather perceive that you are [sic] sensitive young person with the right kind of approach.

I want to give you a help of sorts. I know of many cases of discrimination against the Sikhs and allied problems. You can project all these in your paper. For this purpose perhaps you can start a regular feature, e.g. Satyamev Jayayate (Truth Always Triumphs) or with some such heading conveying the irony. I can provide much authentic material. Along with this letter I am sending a sample – the case of Dr. Karnail Singh.

I am unable to do this myself because, firstly, I am not a journalist. Secondly, because the amenable Press has been instructed by powerful interests to avoid printing my name. Perhaps, for reasons best known to him, Hamdard (what an ironical undertone the name has) needed no persuasion on that score.

For the success of this venture it is necessary that no one else should know of this arrangement. I will send verified, authentic information for you to make a write up as I am sending along with this letter.  It shall be either written in my hand or signed by me.

If you cooperate with me in this matter the Guru will be kind to you and with His Grace you will make much progress in the career you have chosen for yourself. You will also earn the gratitude of the Khalsa, which in itself is no small matter. All the time you would be doing a personal favour to me – and I am one who regards himself as your well wisher and even a friend.

May the Guru be with you always.

“__________”

*   *   *   *   *

This was followed by:

January 20, 1984

Dear Biba Ishnan Kaur,

I had sent the case of Dr. Karnail Singh to you but have not heard about it.  Probably you have no use for it. Along with this letter, I am enclosing a self-addressed envelope.

Please send the papers back to me if you do not intend to use them. I had not preserved a copy and Dr. Karnail Singh is keen to approach the Minorities Commission.

Last Saturday, Gen. Narinder Singh, Brigadier Dhillon, Col. Bhagat Singh and I were passing through Jullundur. I thought that they should know you and that you should know them. It could not come through primarily because you could not recognise my voice – for which you are hardly to blame because I am not known to you that well. I am writing all this so that you may not keep on wondering as to who rang you up on Saturday (14th) and what exactly his design was.

We were reluctant to come to the office, because Mr. Hamdard, I understand resents my coming to his place.

Regards.

“__________”

*   *   *   *   *

The writeup on Dr. Karnail Singh was eventually cleared, and published in Ajit English Weekly dated Feb. 11, 1984.

That was 30 years ago.

Times were different then. Communication was only through snail mail. No internet, no hand-held devices. Few landlines. When I left the office, I was vigilant, wondering who was watching, and very wary of what it could mean. It was unsettling, yet exciting.

History was being made, and I was somehow a part of it.

The letters were from someone in the inner circle of Sant Bhindrawale’s advisors. I knew of him, but had never met him. I never did meet him. He survived the attack on Darbar Sahib and to this day continues to fight for the Panth.

To protest the attack on Darbar Sahib, Mr Hamdard shut down The Ajit Weekly.  Dr. Kapur went on to become the Pro-Vice-Chancellor of Guru Nanak University; Director, Punjab State University Text Book Board; and later, Editor-in-Chief of the Encyclopaedia of Sikhism at Punjabi University, Patiala.

I returned to Canada later in 1984 and have been here ever since.

No one who lived through 1984, either the events of June, or of November, will ever forget. And, as successive governments continue to lie and cover up their roles in the anti-Sikh massacres in Delhi, we must preserve our history for future generations.

Lest we forget.



June 2, 2015
 

read other articles in 1984