Afterthoughts - Train to Pakistan

One of my goals for this year was to write about what I read. The reading ship has set sail, but I’ve been using lame excuses to skip the writing part. Well, I’m ahead of schedule for my next task, so now I have time to kill. Here we go—introducing "Afterthoughts," random notes on what I read.

My first encounter with Khushwant Singh was through the English lessons we had as CBSE students. Years later, while browsing my college library, I stumbled across a book called Not a Nice Man to Know, a collection of Singh's work. I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was the first time I found myself enjoying an Indian author’s work in English, and that piqued my curiosity. When the Chennai Book Fair came around, I grabbed a copy of Train to Pakistan. It was the first book I read from my haul.

Train to Pakistan

Conflicts are never easy to read about, and certainly not easy to write about. My first introduction to the Partition of India came through my school history books, which provided a general idea of what happened. But this book offered me a glimpse into what it was like.

I was born and raised in Chennai, where patriotism and the concept of being “Indian” seemed simple enough. Don’t cheer when Mitchell Starc takes a wicket. Never support England, no matter how cute their players are. India vs Pakistan is a festival with its own rites. Buy from Indian brands, and quote Indian examples for essays or projects. Wake up early to attend parades on Independence and Republic Day, and wear the national flag with pride, respecting those who sacrificed to raise it high. The concept of "identity" didn’t really make sense to me until I reached college. There, I had the chance to interact with people from different states. One of my classmates, a Punjabi, became a friend. Through her, I learned about the Partition and how, at times, being "Indian" isn’t always as simple as I once thought.

There were lines in Train to Pakistan that really hit home. In the southeast of India, we’re used to reading about border conflicts in the morning papers, debating them briefly, then moving on with our day. I’ve read about the Holocaust and books set during World War II, but nothing felt closer to home than this. This time, Mano Majra felt like a place I could relate to.

Certain lines from the book left a lasting impact. The discussions on morality and religion, the concept of freedom, and the constant tension between knowing what’s right and what’s practical. There were moments of youthful bursts of emotion, followed by introspective analysis. It’s these layers that kept me hooked, and I think that’s why this book stuck with me, even a week after I finished it.