On 14th of August 1947 the British Vice Roy Lord Mountbatten signed the Partition Plan in which the Indian Subcontinent was divided into the Dominion of Pakistan which included East (which in 1971 became Bangladesh) and West Pakistan and the Union of India. During this partition my grandparents were in their early childhoods. They witnessed and suffered from the horrors of the genocide of Muslims by the Sikhs and Hindus who did not want the subcontinent (India) to be divided. The Muslims who wanted to go to their own country (Pakistan) had to leave everything behind including their houses, relatives, land, and in some cases their wealth too. My grandparents lived in the same village in India and they faced similar tragedies so had to migrate to Pakistan as well. During this genocide my paternal grandfather lost two of his brothers along with is father and uncle and my grandmother lost her uncle and an elder sibling. They were five and eight yeas old (grandma and grandpa respectively) when Pakistan gained independence.
My grandmother told me that there were many Muslim women who migrated with her caravan but when they were attacked by the Sikhs and Hindus a lot of them committed suicide to keep their chastity from being tainted by the malevolent intents of the assailants. When they arrived in Pakistan they had to start from scratch: they had no money, a place to live, no food and no shelter. The government allowed people to occupy land equal to the property they had left behind (in India). So my Paternal grandfather set the foundation of his house on the land that was allotted to him and decided to help make a village so that they could once again live in a civilized manner. Coincidently my grandparents both ended up in the same caravan so they settled in the same rural area and were finally engaged for an arranged marriage (as per their parents’ decision) during their teens (18 and 26 respectively the latter being my grandfather)
Because they had nowhere to live or eat they started to build their own house and cultivated their own crops so they did not have time to study at all thus they gave it up altogether. They had 10 children in all from which two passed away in their early life. Because they were still setting themselves up five of the older children helped with the agricultural in the house so they couldn’t study either. The younger ones however were allowed to go to school once life began to stabilize. My father was among the younger ones; in fact, he is the second youngest child out of 10 siblings. He was born in 1970 (a year before the war in which Bangladesh gained independence from Pakistan). During his teens he helped out on the farm and also went to school. He finished high school in Pakistan and then applied for a visa to the US so that he could support is family. Luckily at the age of 20 he got this visa and came to America, around the same time he was betrothed to my mother who was 18 (this was also an arranged marriage). When he came here he got his GED and started to work. First he worked in a store as a cashier then he opened his own store in Manhattan after that he started to work as a cab driver.
Unfortunately, my grandfather passed away at the age of 63 (when my dad was only 12 years old). Therefore, my grandma raised all her children by herself and also established arranged marriages for all of them (all of whom are still happily married). She is now living with my eldest uncle’s family in the same village. The village is quite prosperous now and has developed into a semi urban area and one of my uncle is the leader of the winning party in it.
The story of my maternal grandparents is quite similar to my paternal grandparents because they were from the same era (independence of Pakistan). They too had to leave everything behind. As fate would have it they were in another caravan that was migrating and ended up in the same rural area as my paternal grand parents. The also had an arrange married at the age of 17 and 19 (grandmother and grandfather respectively). From this marriage they had six children from whom two sadly passed away (one at the age of 42 in 2012). As opposed to my paternal grandparents my maternal grandfather went to school until fifth grade (which was considered very high during that time period) however, my grandmother did not go to school at all because during that time women were not expected to do so. They were only expected to live as proper housewives and take care of their children and they had to raise them ideally. All of their children are also arrange married. They made their children go to school and allowed them to peruse any kind of carrier they wanted. (This granted me support as well through my mother later on in life.) My mother only went to school until 10th grade after that she was engaged to my father. When my father came back from America for the first time they got married then my father applied for my mother, my sister and me to come to America but only after he was naturalized. When my mother came here she struggled with English quite a bit so she stayed home while my dad worked.
My maternal grandparents also helped to set up the market place in the village. Furthermore, my grandfather went to the city municipal party so he could compel them to help set up a proper sewage system and also to help lay a proper network of roads throughout the village which transformed it from a rural area to a slightly urbanized one.
My parents sent me to the best school in the district (in Pakistan) when I was in first grade My father brought the whole family to the US.
I am the eldest son of my family and I was born in Pakistan on February 12th 1996. Growing up in an underdeveloped town in a developing country, shaped my ideology. My parents told me that I have to set an example for my siblings so they could follow in my footprints; furthermore, they were very supportive of my studies Therefore, I have quite a load of expectations on my shoulders. My grandpa once told me that life is like the ECG (Electrocardiogram) of your heart, you will face numerous ups and downs in your life, just like the waves of the ECG, and when that wave reaches a straight line you perish. I took this statement quite seriously, I admired this way of thinking because it taught me that not everything goes according to your plans, I realized that there are some mishaps that are bound to transpire no matter how many precautionary measures you take to avoid them however you should never give up hope.
I have faced and overcame many hurdles in my life but one of the biggest impediment that I overcame was the transition to the culture in New York as opposed to the the culture in Pakistan. I had to leave everything including my friends, cousins, and relatives behind when I came back to America. Nine years had past since the last time I was here. I clearly recall how my father spent hours upon hours teaching me how to read, write and speak English after I came home from school. Everyday he would sit next to me and help me with my homework and within three months into my first grade I started to speak English fluently. Then I applied for American nationality and soon I was naturalized. As I reached third grade my mother, my siblings and I went back to Pakistan so my parents could teach us our culture and heritage. I studied there in many of the finest schools available by the grace of my parents and when I reached seventh grade, I applied for a very prestigious and insanely competitive (being selected as one of the 66 out of one million who applied) boarding school that was affiliated with the Cambridge university. My parents very very proud of this feat when I succeeded at getting into that institution and within four years I got the O’levels degrees from Cambridge.
After this I came back to America with my family only to see that almost everything had changed; the apartment I used to live in, the neighborhood, the stores and most importantly the people. Despite the fact that I had spent quite some time here I felt like a total stranger.
The first day at school was even tougher. My English had gotten a little rusty over the years I spent in Pakistan and I also had the “accent”. The environment was also totally different everyone dressed casually instead of wearing uniforms, the students were very busy with themselves or with their friends, the education system, the method of teaching and the types of subjects taught were all new to me.
I was overwhelmed with this sudden transition. So I decided that to tackle and cope with these obstacles I needed to adjustment myself, I wanted to assimilate just so that I could feel accepted. But then it hit me, why should I change to please other? People should accept me as I am!
I decided to work hard but not lose my individuality in the process. My persistence helped me get through this ordeal of hardship. My dad told me that I don’t have to work until I become a doctor and that he will support me in what ever way I need it so that I could get enough time for studies. He advised me that I have to work hard to accomplish my dream he continued on by saying that he wanted to become a doctor but he had to sacrifice his dream because of family necessities but I have the opportunity to fulfill it so I should not waste it. This boosted my moral quite a bit. Furthermore, I had a lot of confidence and encouragement from the rest of my family as well which helped me break the invisible shell that was locking my potential. I realized that I had to be proud of my roots and stand up to the principles taught to me by my parents. My heritage, religion and my roots forged me into the person I am today and I have to carry all of them on my back as a first generation college student in my family so I could prove to others that one should be proud of one’s legacy and stand firm to one’s principles no matter the hardships one may have to endure.