A Hindu refugee in Lahore writes a letter to his love Zahira in Lucknow to say goodbye. He describes being badly beaten, with cuts and a concussion, and a broken back. After 11 years of failed attempts to return to India, he has decided to kill himself by hanging. He has prepared a bedsheet rope and stool and will take his life shortly after finishing the letter. He thinks of their last happy moments together nine days ago and his plan to propose marriage that day, but froze when he saw her joyful face.

1. Hindu Refugee Camp, Lahore
Chapter - 1
8th November, 1958,
Lahore, Pakistan
Respected Zahira Ji,
I have decided to kill myself. I’m not saying
this in the heat of the moment or a fit of
sadness. I have thought about this for
several days before making up my mind.
And I have no doubt, Zahira ji, that by the
end of this letter, you will also agree with
me that I should not live any longer. I’m
writing to say Khuda Hafiz.

2. It's taken me great effort to even get my
hands on this paper and pen. When I got
this paper, I initially thought I would lie to
you. I thought I should not tell you that as I
write this, I’m bleeding from at least seven
places and my back is broken, both
figuratively and literally. I thought I would
tell you that I have reached Lahore unhurt
and that there is nothing to worry about
and I’m only devastated emotionally, to be
away from you. But I could not bring myself
to lie. As I write to you, the cut near my
mouth has been bleeding all day and the
concussion on my forehead is throbbing so
hard that it feels as if it might be audible to
you, all the way to Lucknow. My legs are
aching badly and I do not know if the pain
in my stomach will ever stop.
2/5

3. Don’t get me wrong, Zahira Ji. I’m not a
quitter. The punches and slaps might have
broken me physically but that is not the
reason why I want to die. Allah knows that
if there was even a little hope that I would
get to see your face once before I close my
eyes, I would have crawled from Lahore to
Lucknow with just my hands. But the truth
is that all the doors of coming back to India
for me are now closed. I have tried
everything and spoken to everybody I could.
It’s been eleven long years since the
partition of India and I’m still on this side of
the border. It is time that I accept my fate.
It is time I realise that I’m meant to die on
this side of the border by hanging myself.
3/5

4. Just before sitting down to write, I tore a
bedsheet to use it as a rope. I have found a
slot in the ceiling and tied the bedsheet-
turned-rope to it. I have found a small stool
that I can kick to leave my body gasping for
oxygen. Everything is set and within a few
minutes of finishing this letter, I would
have breathed my last. It’s only fitting that
writing to you and thinking of you is how I
spend my last few minutes.
4/5

5. I’m thinking of those last few moments I
spent with you. To think about it that it was
only nine days ago but feels like it was
another lifetime. Even before you came to
my house for your weekly visit, I had made
my mind that it was time I tell you that I
love you and want to marry you. But when
you reached, I looked at you and froze. You
would remember that it was a particularly
happy day for you as well.
5/5
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