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' toba tek singh

History

Origins of Name

The town and district is named after a Sikh religious figure Tek Singh. Legend has it that Mr. Singh a kind hearted man served water and provided shelter to the worn out and thirsty travellers passing by a small pond ("TOBA" in Punjabi) which eventually was called Toba Tek Singh, and the surrounding settlement acquired the same name. There is also a park here named after the Sardar Toba.

British Raj

Toba Tek Singh was developed by the British toward the end of the 18th Century when a canal system was built. People from all over the Punjab (currently Indian and Pakistani Punjab) moved there as farmlands were allotted to them. Most of the people who migrated there belonged to Lahore, Jalandhar,hoshiar pur districts. The Imperial Gazetteer of India describedthe tehsil of Toba Tek Singh as follows:

Tahsil of the new Lyallpur District, Punjab, lying between 30°50' and 31°23' N. and 72° 20' and 72°54' E., with an area of 865 square miles (2,240 km2). The population in 1906 was 148,984. It contains 342 villages, including Toba Tek Singh (population,1,874), the head-quarters, and GOJRA (2,589), an important grain market on the Wazirabad -Khanewal branch of the North-Western Railway. The land revenue and cesses in 1905-6 amounted to 4.7 lakhs. The tahsil consists of a level plain, wholly irrigated by the Chenab Canal. The soil, which is very fertile in the east of the tahsil, becomes sandy towards the west. The boundaries of the tahsil were somewhat modified at the time of the formation of the new District of Lyallpur"

After Independence

During 1970's, when many Pakistani cities were renamed to change names given after British Rulers to their original or native names or more acceptable names to local population like Montgomery was renamed to its old original name Sahiwal, Toba Tek Singh remained one of the very few cities to maintain its original name mainly because of reputation of Tek Singh. In 1982 Toba Tek Singh, formerly a subdivision, was separated from Faisalabad District and became a separate district.

Find more about History of Pakistan

Demography

Toba Tek Singh is located in central Punjab and occupies 3252 square kilometres and is made up of large areas of lowlands that flood frequently during the rainy season; the floods originate from the Ravi River that runs along the southern and southeastern borders. The Pre-partition T.T.Singh had a sizeable Sikh population which migrated to Indian Punjab in 1947.

According to the 1998 census of Pakistan the population was 805,580 of this, 520,601 were Muslim and 284,979 were non-Muslim (mainly Christian). According to the 2008 estimate the population had risen to 1.39 million.

Agriculture Productions

District toba tek singh is one of the best producer of orange "locally known as kenno". It contribute towards export standard quality of orange produced in all Pakistan.majority of people living in this district have profession of agriculture and it produce several kind of agricultural and dairy products like meat, eggs ,cotton,maze,several pulses,peach,guava,tommato,mellon, water melon,mangos,tobacco,onion,

Famous People

The Late Haji Sardar Mohammad Murad Khan Gadhi ex. MPA Mohammad Sarwar (born 18 August 1952, Toba Tek Singh), a politician in the United Kingdom who served as the Labour Member of the Parliament of the United Kingdom for Glasgow Central, Scotland. He was the UK's first Muslim MP. Choudhry Asad ur Rehman ex Minister and MNA. Mian Muhammad Aslam Advocate ex Vice President of Punjab High Court Bar Association Choudry Muhammad Ashfaq ex MNA and ex Distric Nazim.

Ch Amjad ALi Javed Leader of PML(N).

Dr. Zahid Sattar Leader of JI.

Mian Muhammad Rafique MPA.

Dr. Waheed Akber Leeder Of PTI.

Neelam Jabbar Ch Minister of Population.

Choudry Abdul Sattar is currently District Nazim of Toba Tek Singh and is also ex MNA.

Ch. Mukhtar Ahmed Nusrat. Member District Council. Current Nazim. Ex Chairman Market Committee.Treasurer Pakistan Poultry Association. A Business man.Founder of Layer Poultry Farming in the region. He started first Free Hospital and donated prime land for the School. Chaudhry Mukhtat Ahmad Nusrat has supported so many social work and humanity based organizations. He was the first one who brought Eidhi Center in Kamalia. He has built a beautiful mosque and contributed in many other mosques and supported many charity organizations.He was a Legend.According to people they have not seen this many people in any person's Janazah in the history of Kamalia.

Chaudhry Faisal Qazafi, a member of the public safety Commission and a candidate for Punjab Assembly. chief justise "Khalil u rehman Ramday's " ancestors also blong from "254 G B" a village in toba tek singh

Ex secratery for foreign affairs "Hafiz ullah ishaque" also belong from above cited village

A tv actor "Nabeel" also born in this disrict

Education

Toba Tek Singh has several institutions of higher education including

CCAPS the new COMSAT University GOvt. College of commerce Jinnah Public School Agriculture University sub campus also several Modern junior shools for high school children

In Popular Culture

Sadat Hasan Manto, an Urdu Novelist wrote a short story entitled "Toba Tek Singh" which is a satire on Partition; in the story, an inmate in an asylum frets over the question of whether his home town Toba Tek Singh is now in India or Pakistan. It was adapted into a short movie of the same name directed by Afia Nathaniel in 2005.Cultivation of kino is also an important culture of pakistanBold text hasan nagra

wo or three years after Partition, the governments of Pakistan and India decided to exchange lunatics in the same way that they had exchanged civilian prisoners. In other words, Muslim lunatics in Indian madhouses would be sent to Pakistan, while Hindu and Sikh lunatics in Pakistani madhouses would be handed over to India.

I can't say whether this decision made sense or not. In any event, a date for the lunatic exchange was fixed after high level conferences on both sides of the border. All the details were carefully worked out. On the Indian side, Muslim lunatics with relatives in India would be allowed to stay. The remainder would be sent to the frontier. Here in Pakistan nearly all the Hindus and Sikhs were gone, so the question of retaining non-Muslim lunatics did not arise. All the Hindu and Sikh lunatics would be sent to the frontier in police custody.

I don't know what happened over there. When news of the lunatic exchange reached the madhouse here in Lahore, however, it became an absorbing topic of discussion among the inmates. There was one Muslim lunatic who had read the newspaper Zamindar1 every day for twelve years. One of his friends asked him: "Maulvi Sahib! What is Pakistan?" After careful thought he replied: "It's a place in India where they make razors."

Hearing this, his friend was content.

One Sikh lunatic asked another Sikh: "Sardar ji, why are they sending us to India? We don't even speak the language."

"I understand the Indian language," the other replied, smiling. "Indians are devilish people who strut around haughtily," he added.

While bathing, a Muslim lunatic shouted "Long live Pakistan!" with such vigor that he slipped on the floor and knocked himself out.

There were also some lunatics who weren't really crazy. Most of these inmates were murderers whose families had bribed the madhouse officials to have them committed in order to save them from the hangman's noose. These inmates understood something of why India had been divided, and they had heard of Pakistan. But they weren't all that well informed. The newspapers didn't tell them a great deal, and the illiterate guards who looked after them weren't much help either. All they knew was that there was a man named Mohammed Ali Jinnah, whom people called the Qaid-e-Azem. He had made a separate country for the Muslims, called Pakistan. They had no idea where it was, or what its boundaries might be. This is why all the lunatics who hadn't entirely lost their senses were perplexed as to whether they were in Pakistan or India. If they were in India, then where was Pakistan? If they were in Pakistan, then how was it that the place where they lived had until recently been known as India?

One lunatic got so involved in this India/Pakistan question that he became even crazier. One day he climbed a tree and sat on one of its branches for two hours, lecturing without pause on the complex issues of Partition. When the guards told him to come down, he climbed higher. When they tried to frighten him with threats, he replied: "I will live neither in India nor in Pakistan. I'll live in this tree right here!" With much difficulty, they eventually coaxed him down. When he reached the ground he wept and embraced his Hindu and Sikh friends, distraught at the idea that they would leave him and go to India.

One man held an M.S. degree and had been a radio engineer. He kept apart from the other inmates, and spent all his time walking silently up and down a particular footpath in the garden. After hearing about the exchange, however, he turned in his clothes and ran naked all over the grounds.

There was one fat Muslim lunatic from Chiniot who had been an enthusiastic Muslim League activist. He used to wash fifteen or sixteen times a day, but abandoned the habit overnight. His name was Mohammed Ali. One day he announced that he was the Qaid-e-Azem, Mohammed Ali Jinnah. Seeing this, a Sikh lunatic declared himself to be Master Tara Singh. Blood would have flowed, except that both were reclassified as dangerous lunatics and confined to separate quarters.

There was also a young Hindu lawyer from Lahore who had gone mad over an unhappy love affair. He was distressed to hear that Amritsar was now in India, because his beloved was a Hindu girl from that city. Although she had rejected him, he had not forgotten her after losing his mind. For this reason he cursed the Muslim leaders who had split India into two parts, so that his beloved remained Indian while he became Pakistani.

When news of the exchange reached the madhouse, several lunatics tried to comfort the lawyer by telling him that he would be sent to India, where his beloved lived. But he didn't want to leave Lahore, fearing that his practice would not thrive in Amritsar.

In the European Ward there were two Anglo-Indian lunatics. They were very worried to hear that the English had left after granting independence to India. In hushed tones, they spent hours discussing how this would affect their situation in the madhouse. Would the European Ward remain, or would it disappear? Would they be served English breakfasts? What, would they be forced to eat poisonous bloody Indian chapattis instead of bread?

One Sikh had been an inmate for fifteen years. He spoke a strange language of his own, constantly repeating this nonsensical phrase: "Upri gur gur di annexe di be-dhiyan o mung di daal of di lalteen."2 He never slept. According to the guards, he hadn't slept a wink in fifteen years. Occasionally, however, he would rest by propping himself against a wall.

His feet and ankles had become swollen from standing all the time, but in spite of these physical problems he refused to lie down and rest. He would listen with great concentration whenever there was discussion of India, Pakistan and the forthcoming lunatic exchange. Asked for his opinion, he would reply with great seriousness: "Upri gur gur di annexe di be-dhiyana di mung di daal of di Pakistan gornament."3

Later he replaced "of di Pakistan gornament" with "of di Toba Tek Singh gornament." He also started asking the other inmates where Toba Tek Singh was, and to which country it belonged. But nobody knew whether it was in Pakistan or India. When they argued the question they only became more confused. After all, Sialkot had once been in India, but was apparently now in Pakistan. Who knew whether Lahore, which was now in Pakistan, might not go over to India tomorrow? Or whether all of India might become Pakistan? And was there any guarantee that both Pakistan and India would not one day vanish altogether?

This Sikh lunatic's hair was unkempt and thin. Because he washed so rarely, his hair and beard had matted together, giving him a frightening appearance. But he was a harmless fellow. In fifteen years, he had never fought with anyone.

The attendants knew only that he owned land in Toba Tek Singh district. Having been a prosperous landlord, he suddenly lost his mind. So his relatives bound him with heavy chains and sent him off to the madhouse.

His family used to visit him once a month. After making sure that he was in good health, they would go away again. These family visits continued for many years, but they stopped when the India/Pakistan troubles began.

This lunatic's name was Bashan Singh, but everyone called him Toba Tek Singh. Although he had very little sense of time, he seemed to know when his relatives were coming to visit. He would tell the officer in charge that his visit was impending. On the day itself he would wash his body thoroughly and comb and oil his hair. Then he would put on his best clothes and go to meet his relatives.

If they asked him any question he would either remain silent or say: "Upri gur gur di annexe di be-dhiyana di mung di daal of di laaltein."

Bashan Singh had a fifteen-year-old daughter who grew by a finger's height every month. He didn't recognize her when she came to visit him. As a small child, she used to cry whenever she saw her father. She continued to cry now that she was older.

When the Partition problems began, Bashan Singh started asking the other lunatics about Toba Tek Singh. Since he never got a satisfactory answer, his concern deepened day by day.

Then his relatives stopped visiting him. Formerly he could predict their arrival, but now it was as though the voice inside him had been silenced. He very much wanted to see those people, who spoke to him sympathetically and brought gifts of flowers, sweets and clothing. Surely they could tell him whether Toba Tek Singh was in Pakistan or India. After all, he was under the impression that they came from Toba Tek Singh, where his land was.

There was another lunatic in that madhouse who thought he was God. One day, Bashan Singh asked him whether Toba Tek Singh was in Pakistan or India. Guffawing, he replied: "Neither, because I haven't yet decided where to put it!"

Bashan Singh begged this "God" to resolve the status of Toba Tek Singh and thus end his perplexity. But "God" was far too busy to deal with this matter because of all the other orders that he had to give. One day Bashan Singh lost his temper and shouted: "Upri gur gur di annexe di be-dhiyana di mung di daal of wahay Guru ji wa Khalsa and wahay Guru ji ki fatah. Jo bolay so nahal sat akal!"

By this he might have meant: "You are the God of the Muslims. If you were a Sikh God then you would certainly help me."

A few days before the day of the exchange, one of Bashan Singh's Muslim friends came to visit from Toba Tek Singh. This man had never visited the madhouse before. Seeing him, Bashan Singh turned abruptly and started walking away. But the guard stopped him.

"He's come to visit you. It's your friend Fazluddin," the guard said.

Glancing at Fazluddin, Bashan Singh muttered a bit. Fazluddin advanced and took him by the elbow. "I've been planning to visit you for ages, but I haven't had the time until now," he said. "All your relatives have gone safely to India. I helped them as much as I could. Your daughter Rup Kur . . ."

Bashan Singh seemed to remember something. "Daughter Rup Kur," he said.

Fazluddin hesitated, and then replied: "Yes, she's . . . she's also fine. She left with them."

Bashan Singh said nothing. Fazluddin continued: "They asked me to make sure you were all right. Now I hear that you're going to India. Give my salaams to brother Balbir Singh and brother Wadhada Singh. And to sister Imrat Kur also . . . Tell brother Balbir Singh that I'm doing fine. One of the two brown cows that he left has calved. The other one calved also, but it died after six days. And . . . and say that if there's anything else I can do for them, I'm always ready. And I've brought you some sweets."

Bashan Singh handed the package over to the guard. "Where is Toba Tek Singh?" he asked.

Fazluddin was taken aback. "Toba Tek Singh? Where is it? It's where it's always been," he replied.

"In Pakistan or in India?" Bashan Singh persisted.

Fazluddin became flustered. "It's in India. No no, Pakistan."

Bashan Singh walked away, muttering: "Upar di gur gur di annexe di dhiyana di mung di daal of di Pakistan and Hindustan of di dar fatay mun!"

Finally all the preparations for the exchange were complete. The lists of all the lunatics to be transferred were finalized, and the date for the exchange itself was fixed.

The weather was very cold. The Hindu and Sikh lunatics from the Lahore madhouse were loaded into trucks under police supervision. At the Wahga border post, the Pakistani and Indian officials met each other and completed the necessary formalities. Then the exchange began. It continued all through the night.

It was not easy to unload the lunatics and send them across the border. Some of them didn't even want to leave the trucks. Those who did get out were hard to control because they started wandering all over the place. When the guards tried to clothe those lunatics who were naked, they immediately ripped the garments off their bodies. Some cursed, some sang, and others fought. They were crying and talking, but nothing could be understood. The madwomen were creating an uproar of their own. And it was cold enough to make your teeth chatter.

Most of the lunatics were opposed to the exchange. They didn't understand why they should be uprooted and sent to some unknown place. Some, only half-mad, started shouting "Long live Pakistan!" Two or three brawls erupted between Sikh and Muslim lunatics who became enraged when they heard the slogans.

When Bashan Singh's turn came to be entered in the register, he spoke to the official in charge. "Where is Toba Tek Singh?" he asked. "Is it in Pakistan or India?"

The official laughed. "It's in Pakistan," he replied.

Hearing this, Bashan Singh leapt back and ran to where his remaining companions stood waiting. The Pakistani guards caught him and tried to bring him back to the crossing point, but he refused to go.

"Toba Tek Singh is here!" he cried. Then he started raving at top volume: "Upar di gur gur di annexe di be-dhiyana mang di daal of di Toba Tek Singh and Pakistan!"

The officials tried to convince him that Toba Tek Singh was now in India. If by some chance it wasn't they would send it there directly, they said. But he wouldn't listen.

Because he was harmless, the guards let him stand right where he was while they got on with their work. He was quiet all night, but just before sunrise he screamed. Officials came running from all sides. After fifteen years on his feet, he was lying face down on the ground. India was on one side, behind a barbed wire fence. Pakistan was on the other side, behind another fence. Toba Tek Singh lay in the middle, on a piece of land that had no name.

THE STORY OF TOBA TEK SINGH

The 16th day of April 1853 is special in the Indian history. The day was a public holiday. At 3:30 pm, as the 21 guns roared together, the first train carrying Lady Falkland, wife of Governor of Bombay, along with 400 special invitees, steamed off from Bombay to Thane.

Ever since the engine rolled off the tracks, there have been new dimensions to the distances, relations and emotions. Abaseen Express, Khyber Mail and Calcutta Mail were not just the names of the trains but the experiences of hearts and souls. Now that we live in the days of burnt and non functional trains, I still have a few pleasant memories associated with train travels. These memoirs are the dialogues I had with myself while sitting by the windows or standing at the door as the train moved on. In the era of Cloud and Wi-fi communications, I hope you will like them.

enter image description hereAcross the slums of Gojra, the memory of a saint is enlivened by a city. Before Tek Singh came and lodged here, it was a deserted place by the pond (Toba in the local language). He made it a point to service thirsty passer-byes from this pond. Years later, his act of charity founded the city, which is now named after him, Toba Tek Singh.

Other than Manto, the story of Toba Tek Singh is also told by a local farmer, Ameer Chand Kohli. In a city of Muslim majority, he headed a well-to-do Hindu family. After the birth of his fifth daughter, Ameer Chand started visiting saints and shrines for a son, who could carry his name. In one such visit to a faqeer, he pledged that if he ever had a son, he would devote him to Sikhism. After a year, a baby boy was born. Ameer Chand named him Bishon Singh and started raising him as a Sikh. Life at the Ameer Chand household became festive during the summers, when all his daughters, along with their children visited Toba for the entire season. The sisters gossiped under the tree and the kids played out in the fields.

Now that the grandchildren of Ameer Chand have dispersed from the shores of Australia to the Islands of West Indies and have taken up residences at Washington and Abu Dhabi, they still remember the favor of that Sikh saint and the summers at Toba Tek Singh.

Like every year, the family of Ameer Chand had gathered at Toba Tek Singh during the August of 1947. One day, on his way back from the fields, he saw a large crowd, smoldering in anguish at the chowk. Standing at the centre of the crowd, a Muslim migrant was telling the story of his journey to Toba. A few women from his convoy had jumped into dark wells to save their honor, while others who chose to live, now told the brutal tale of rape and wrath. Ameer Chand felt that the journey, sufferings and helplessness had cast some permanent features on his face. At his home, Ameer Chand sat in the bethak and discussed with Majhi Ram, the personal servant since ages, about how times had changed.

Before dusk, a few blasts were heard and hell broke loose. Driven by frenzy, was the angry mob, attacking Hindu houses. Everyone ran for their lives, caring the least for luggage. The voice of the crowd drew near, as they ran from street to street. While the crowd increased in number, the alleys decreased. When they reached the last lane, the police finally woke up to action. The Hindu and Sikh population gathered and moved to the Grain Market, a large compound in the city. The police escorted and protected them from people, people who had been their neighbors for generations.

When the stay at the Grain Market prolonged, people started dying of hunger and of disease. Between the man and his creator, hung a feeble layer of canvas, which dare not stop anything, save the prayers. The weather made it impossible to live inside the tent and the young daughters made it impossible to live outside. With every passing day, rations decreased and ailments increased. Ameer Chand recalled his childhood maulvi of the madressah, who had taught him that wars in India were always amongst the kings and the people stayed out of it. This time, however, the kings had made peace amongst themselves, while the people killed each other.

Everyone worried about Majhi Ram, who was missing since the first day of the riots. No one knew that Majhi Ram had converted to Majhi Khan and sided with his new brothers in faith to loot Ameer Chand’s house.

After a two-months stay at the camp, a special refugee train arrived from India. Their lips trembled with silent prayers and their bodies shivered with fear of the unknown as they filled the congested compartments. This was common to railways stations across India, that summer. Every one of the millions who crossed this new found boundary had thousands of stories to tell and everyone carried these stories on his person. Parched lips, mucus in their eyes, dust patterned on their facial features, dark lines of burns on their necks and a saltish flavor on their tongues, were all the shades of these stories. Taps at railway stations had dried up long ago and water was not found anywhere enroute.

enter image description hereOnce the train left Toba and reached Lahore, it awaited its fate at the station. The safety of the outbound train was conditional to the inbound train. If the train, coming from India, safely made it here, this train could whistle off but if it carried corpses, it was to be returned with the same stock.

The whistles of the arriving train were heard with anxiety and soon people were spotted leaning against the footrest. The refugee special was allowed to leave for Patiala via Amritsar. At Patiala, the passengers got off the train amid celebrations, and were garlanded. The scene reminded Ameer Chand of the Lahore Railway station and he had a feeling of Déjà vu. The large view mirrors in the train had the etched acronym of the NWR (North Western Railway). For the first time, in two months, Ameer Chand saw his face closely. The features of that displaced person caused by the journey, suffering and helplessness had started to appear on his face too.

“Toba Tek Singh” as told by Ameer Chand is now more than 60 years old but that of Manto appears fresh.

The story of “Toba Tek Singh” apparently focuses on a mentally unstable old man, but within its words, it carries the piercing pain of partition. Caught between the geographical divide and emotional trauma, Bishen Singh disparagingly tells the awful truth of politics. As an inmate at a mental facility in Pakistan, his heart betrayed his body and his soul divorced his identity. This probably was the toughest of partitions.

Having little knowledge about politics and the politicians of his time, Bishen Singh had no one to apportion the blame so he took it out upon himself.

When Manto read “Toba Tek Singh” for the first time in the Pak Tea House, he had worn out of his age. Before reading the last lines in his classy dramatic voice, he paused to inhale the silence in the hall and wiped the tears that rolled down silently.

“Around Dawn, Bishen Singh uttered a shrieking sound and collapsed. Officers ran toward him and saw that the man who had been standing for the past 15 years now lay still, on his chest. On one side, across the barbed wire, was India and on the other side, was Pakistan. In between the two, on a piece of land, which was neither Pakistan nor India, lay Toba Tek Singh”. — in Toba Tek Singh.

Partition Through Literature: “Toba Tek Singh”

The incredible suffering that partition caused in some areas through exchanges of population has become a favorite topic for Indian, Pakistani, and Sikh writers. Dealing in various ways with the human tragedy endured by people on both sides of this newly created border, these writers, argues Alok Bhalla (editor of one major collection of these sto - ries), share a theme. “There is a single, common note which informs nearly all the stories written about the Partition and the horror it unleashed, a note of utter bewilderment.” One of the best, and perhaps most famous, parti - tion story clearly reveals this sense of bewilderment. “Toba Tek Singh” was written in Urdu, Pakistan’s national language, by Sadat Hasan Manto, a Kash - miri who left his home in January 1948 and moved to Karachi, Pakistan’s capital. The story recounts the effects of partition on a very particular portion of the population. Excerpts are in italics. It begins... “A couple of years after the Partition of the country, it occurred to the respective governments of India and Pakistan that inmates of lunatic asylums, like prisoners, should also be exchanged. Muslim lu - natics in India should be transferred to Pakistan and Hindu and Sikh lunatics in Pakistani asylums should be sent to India.” One such asylum was located in Lahore, in what became Pakistan. Upon learning of this decision, the inmates could not comprehend its meaning: “As to where Pakistan was located, the inmates knew nothing. That was why both the mad and the partially mad were unable to decide whether they were now in India or in Pakistan. If they were in India, where on earth was Pakistan? And if they were in Pakistan, then how come that until only the other day it was India? “One inmate had got so badly caught up in this India-Pakistan-Pakistan-India rigmarole that one day, while sweeping the floor, he dropped everything, climbed the nearest tree and installed himself on a branch, from which vantage point he spoke for two hours on the delicate problem of India and Pakistan. The guards asked him to get down; instead he went to a branch higher, and when threatened with punish - ment, declared, ‘I wish to live neither in India nor in Pakistan. I wish to live in this tree.’” The protagonist of the story is a Sikh inmate named Bishan Singh who, fifteen years earlier, had gone mad and was committed by his family. Every - one in the asylum calls him Toba Tek Singh, the name of his village. Almost bald, his legs swollen because he seemed to be standing all the time, he also has the habit of speaking this nonsensical phrase, “Uper the gur gur the annexe the bay dhayana the mung the dal of the laltain.” Family members, who used to visit him, now no longer come. He repeatedly asks his fellow inmates whether Toba Tek Singh, his old town, is in India or Pakistan, but nobody seems to know. One day Fazal Din, an old Muslim friend from his village, visits Bishan Singh, who doesn’t recognize the man. Fazal Din brings word that Singh’s family has safely gone to India. Fazal Din speaks of the water buffalos left behind and the calves they have produced. Singh asks him, “Where is Toba Tek Singh?” To which his old friend replies, “In India ... no, in Pakistan.” “Without saying another word, Bishan Singh walks away, murmuring, ‘Uper the gur gur the an - nexe the be dhyana the mung the dal of the Pakistan and Hindustan dur fittey moun.’” The transfer of inmates takes place on a cold winter evening. Hindu and Sikh lunatics are placed on buses and taken to the border. When Bishan Singh steps from the bus and is asked to register, he asks the official, “Where is Toba Tek Singh? In India or Pakistan?” The official tells him it is in Pakistan, the place Singh is leaving. “Bishan Singh tried to run, but was overpowered by the Pakistani guards who tried to push him across the dividing line towards India. However, he wouldn’t move.” The story concludes as follows: “’This is Toba Tek Singh,’ he announced. ‘Uper the gur gur the annexe the be dhyana mung the dal of Toba Tek Singh and Pakistan.’ “Many efforts were made to explain to him that Toba Tek Singh had already been moved to India, or would be moved immediately, but it had no effect on Bishan Singh. The guards even tried force, but soon gave up “There he stood in no man’s land on his swollen legs like a colossus. “Since he was a harmless old man, no further attempt was made to push him into India. He was al - lowed to stand where he wanted, while the exchange continued. The night wore on Just before sunrise, Bishan Singh, the man who had stood on his legs for fifteen years, screamed and as the officials from the two sides rushed towards him, he collapsed to the ground. “There, behind barbed wire, on one side, lay In - dia and behind more barbed wire, on the other side, lay Pakistan. In between, on a bit of earth which had no name, lay Toba Tek Singh.”

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