Cricket: ‘Partition Felt Like Quarantine Too ’
By Anam Hussain
The 78-year-old former cricketer Intikhab Alam is one man who has not been fazed by the recent Covid-19 lockdowns and quarantines. He recalls that, during the chaos of Partition of the Subcontinent, he lived in one room for five to six days, with limited food supply and just a single pair of clothes.
“I’ve experienced that. You can’t even begin to imagine [what that was like]. At that time, in 1947, we weren’t able to do anything. This [coronavirus pandemic] lockdown is very easy. Today, you are sitting inside your homes. You are getting food. You can speak to someone over the phone. You can even watch television. You have all the facilities at home.
“It’s a very difficult time,” he admits, “scary in a sense that if you do get the virus, ultimately, many others can be affected because of you. But if you get the virus and you follow the rules of quarantine, there is [still] a chance of recovery. There was no chance of recovery during Partition. If you walked out [of a safe place] once, you were gone.”
Alam was referring to the hill station of Simla of 1947, where his family lived and which he remembers surrounded by majestic snow-capped Himalayan mountains. But his wondrous childhood environment was soon to be changed forever. Alam, then five years old, was hiding with his family inside the house of a colleague of his father’s when he heard a mob approaching.
“They’ve arrived,” he heard, as the voices grew closer. Moments later, his parents whisked him away to a nearby power house that provided electricity to all of Simla. “It was a hilly place where it was easy to come across snakes and cheetahs. We stayed there for two or three days.”
Today, staying inside is to stop a virus. Seventy-three years ago, it wasn’t a matter of staying inside. It was a matter of hiding from the hands of the enemy: “You couldn’t go out. Had we gone out, we would have been killed.”
When it was finally safe to come out, his father contacted the Maharaja who he had played cricket with for many years. Upon communication being established, a truck arrived for the family’s rescue. They then reached Ladakhi Mohalla and stayed with a Muslim family for some days. Soon after, another truck was arranged which took them to the town of Kalka.
“Near Kalka train station, there was empty land. My mother got a chaddar from someone and two sticks. She made a little hut out of it. We spent one week living inside the hut. There was nothing to eat or drink. During the night, we could hear gun-shots.”
He remembers boarding the train from Kalka to Lahore — the last train to Pakistan. “We had to hide. It used to work like this: one train was for goods and the one after was for passengers. There was a misunderstanding at the station. The guard of the wayside station misheard and thought that it was a goods train as he flagged it off. And the rioters, too, didn’t check.”
After arriving in Pakistan, Alam’s family learnt about the massacre on the earlier trains. There had been no survivors. “There were dead bodies all around the train station in Lahore. Today, the Pakistan Railways has established a quarantine facility at Lahore Railway station. At that time, it felt like quarantine too. We stayed at the closest refugee camp for around two months.”
While many nations are hearing echoes of the 1918 pandemic or even World War-II in their fight against the virus, Pakistan, like India, is being reminded of a more modern struggle. Though incomparable, it seems to reflect some of the economic and social issues which emerged between the two nations in 1947 — from hunger, unemployment and poverty, to rampant illnesses. “There was also a high risk of getting infected by haiza [cholera] and dysentery.
“Today, it’s a big test for the government. But when the first budget of 1947 was announced, [Pakistan] didn’t have any money. Mahatma Gandhi got money for Pakistan. There was a jazba [sentiment] to help each other that no one can afford today.
“During WWII, sugar was in limited supply and people were told to have tea without sugar. They drank tea without it. But, it’s next to impossible to educate this nation. In the villages, they don’t know what is happening. They don’t even know what a sanitiser is.”
Partition was obviously far deadlier and, in many cases, more traumatic for everyday Pakistanis. But people’s freedoms have been restricted in a way most in Pakistan have not experienced before. Grocery shopping regulations today are not as strict as rationing was 73 years ago, but their existence puts us all in unknown territory for the first time in generations. “I don’t go out,” admits Alam about the new lifestyle he has adapted to. “There are no servants around, we do all the work ourselves. We have told our guard not to let anyone visit. If it’s necessary, we make sure the visitor’s shoes are washed first.”
Today, as half of humanity sits in some form of lockdown, Alam enjoys his quarantine relaxing with his wife in his lawn, delighted to be watching the Pakistan tour of England 2020 on television. “I’m glad the Pakistan team is touring England. It will help other people get out of the Covid-19 misery. If you follow the SOPs [standard operating procedures] then I think you just hope for the best and keep on playing.” Well-known as an inspirational captain and in English county cricket — he played for Surrey — Alam took 629 wickets and hit 5,707 runs in 232 first-class appearances between 1969 and 1981. How does he think the Covid-19 lockdowns have affected his beloved profession? “Both international and domestic cricket could look very different in the next few years. Gradually, it will improve. I know the grounds are empty right now. It could mentally affect the cricketers not having crowd support, but you have got to accept reality. Millions of people are still watching them on TV. I’m not only talking about cricket but other sports also. The footballers have also started playing football, without any spectators.”
How does he see the future? “Since overseas traveling can become more expensive, we will have to wait and see how domestic cricket will start in Pakistan. They will have to find ways and means. If they don’t do this much, it will become very difficult [for sportspersons] to survive financially. It will have a very bad financial effect on professional sports. So, the show must go on.”
For someone who survived the trauma of Partition and the bloody birth of a nation, Alam has learnt the lessons of resilience. He can take a virus in his stride. Dawn
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