Jain Spirit 2003 12 No 17

Author(s): Jain Spirit UK
Publisher: UK Young Jains

Page 41

the boat," remembers my aunt Ramaben Parekh.
People were absolutely crammed together on vessels that pitched and rolled. Who knew when a Japanese naval ship might appear to torpedo the lot into the sea? With a fourteenmonth-old-baby, a three-year-old and a ten-year-old, it was a harrowing journey for Motiba, whose husband, like many other men, had decided to stay behind for as long as he could, hoping to save something of his business and his property. Motiba had no milk for her children. Thanks to the kindness of other passengers, she was able to produce some rice flour to dissolve in water and give to baby Dilip to keep him quiet. After they arrived in Calcutta, they had to make their way over the entire width of the Indian subcontinent by trains filled to burst with refugees. My father, who remembers some of the journey, says
Motiba gathered strength from her beliefs in that traumatic time
that despite the climate of fear and the crush of crowds, people acted generously to his young mother, helping Motiba hoist herself and three children up into the crowded train compartments, squeezing themselves improbably to create enough space for a small suitcase, three little kids and one tired
woman.
Few realised that their hasty departure would be a permanent one. The less well off, some of whom had lived in Burma for several generations, really knew no other home. Most were acutely aware of where they came from in India, but
having never seen the village or town the ancestor had left, had to set off for a 'home' they'd never known. Naturally, they assumed that as soon as the war was over, they would return to Burma. The business class was used to travelling to and fro between Burma and India, used to locking up their houses or leaving them in the care of a relative or the household help while they went off for a couple of months' holiday in India. Surely, as soon as the war was over, they'd move back, dust off the furniture, clean and polish the thalis. But life for Indians in Burma would never again be as it had been.
Forced To Flee
Bapuji stayed on in Rangoon for several weeks after Motiba fled with the children. Finally, he realised that he too had to escape. He left on one of the last boats to make it from Rangoon to Calcutta. There was no time to get any of his assets out of Burma to safety in India. When he arrived in India, he discovered that his business partner and dear friend, Shamjibhai Parekh, was in the same situation. He too had left everything he owned behind. Shamjibhai was keen to get back to Burma to try to salvage whatever he could. Without any of his Burmese assets, he'd have to start over from scratch, and his family would be at risk of considerable hardship. Ignoring the pleadings of his wife, Shamjibhai set off on a return journey, travelling by train and then by road transport as far as Chittagong. At that point, the determination that had brought him all the way across India failed him. He decided that come what may, he could not risk anything happening to him in war-torn Burma: his wife would become a widow, his five children destitute orphans. He went back to Bombay. When my grandfather heard the story, he told Shamjibhai, "I will go for you, and get out what I can." So it was that Bapuji, himself the father of three sons, having only just safely escaped the bombardment of Rangoon, returned to Burma. Legend has it that he was the only paying passenger on the boat he took from Calcutta to Akyab. The person who sold him his ticket tried to talk him out of going. During the crossing, the captain of the streamer quipped, "I hope you have some warm clothes." "Why?" asked Bapuji, "The warm season is just beginning and it is never cold in Rangoon." "No, but it can get mighty cold in Tokyo!" replied the captain. Bapuji was determined to help his friend, but once in Burma he realised that he would never make it into Rangoon, and if he did, had little chance of making it back out alive. He was able to get his hands on some inventory Shamjibhai had in Akyab and had it shipped safely back to Calcutta. © Mira Kamdar, 2000
Motiba's Tattoos
Mira Kamdar is a scholar and occasional broadcaster based in USA. The above is an edited extract from her acclaimed book, 'Motiba's Tattoos'.
December 2003 February 2004 Jain Spirit
39