A special note of abounding gratitude to my parents, Mr. Khawaja Qumaruddin and Mrs. Fatima Qureshy Qumaruddin.
Authors Note
The idea of writing a book about my childhood experience as a refugee and then a prisoner of war first came to me when my son began writing his undergraduate thesis about the 1971 Bangladesh Genocide. I grew up in East Pakistan and lived there until the Indo-Pakistani War of 1971, which resulted in the creation of Bangladesh. I was witness to, both, the war and its aftermath. After the defeat of our Pakistani army and the surrender of Dacca, my family was taken as civilian prisoners of war by the Indian Army and I spent the next two years in a POW camp in India. As my son interviewed me about my first-hand experiences, these painful memories came so alive that I started writing my own experiences that I present, here, in this book. So, first and foremost, I must thank my son, Ahad Azimuddin, for inspiring me to tell my story.
After I was released from the POW camp, I spent my teenage years in Karachi, Pakistan, where, with my mothers help, I fortunately wrote down some notes about our camp life. I have kept those notes all these years in my study, safe inside the little green suitcase that I carried with me the day of my release.
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Picture 01: My little green suitcase
Forty-eight years later, these notes came in very handy for completing my memoirs.
I want to thank my brother, Khawaja Nizamuddin, and my sister, Nafisa Tahera, for their contributions to this book. Especially to my brother, who spent a considerable amount of time correcting and proofreading the manuscript. They were older than me and their recollections helped me in completing this book.
I am grateful to my wife, Sama, who has let me take precious time away from her to pursue my passions, whether for ceramic art, surgery, or writing. Finally, I am thankful to my daughter, Anam, and her husband, Samir, for making my life complete.
I am also grateful to my friends Salahuddin Ayubi, Naeem Ahad, Arif Iqbal, Ras Siddiqui and Fasih Soherwardy, who, like me, were all young boys caught in the unfortunate events surrounding the 1971 war. They went through their own harrowing experiences, ones no child should ever have to suffer. I am thankful to them for sharing their stories, some, of which, have been used here.
While researching for this book, I connected with Dr. Moin Bhatti, who is a psychiatrist in California and whose late father Maj. Iftikhar-ud-Din Ahmad, who was a military POW and wrote about his personal experiences as a Pakistani soldier in a book Memories of a Lacerated Heart (1971): A War Memoir (From East Pakistan to Bangladesh). Dr. Bhatti who translated this book into English has provided me with valuable insight into the events surrounding his fathers war experience. Another veteran of the war is Colonel (Retd) Nazir Ahmed, who wrote about the war in his book, East Pakistan 1971-Distortion and Lies. I was able to speak with him extensively about his recollections of the 1971 war and its aftermath. I am also thankful to Colonel (Retd.) Raj Bhalla of the Indian Army, who fought the battle from the other side and provided me with the Indian perspective on the 1971 Indo-Pakistan war.
I was fortunate to reconnect with Mr. Abul Quddus Nagi who was the young and energetic cage commander of our POW group during the two years of imprisonment. I travelled to the small town of Cobourg, Canada to personally meet him and obtain first-hand knowledge about life in our camp. Mr. Quddus had thorough knowledge of everything that transpired in our camp since he was the civilian in charge of all the prisoners. While in Canada, I also hooked up with Mr. Shaukat Ali and his wife, Akhtar Sultana Ali, who were fellow prisoners and he had played an important part in the day to day life of our camp. I am grateful to these friends for providing me deeper insight into the events surrounding the Indo-Pakistani war of 1971 and our two-year confinement.
Above all, I am indebted to my parents, Mr. Khawaja Qumaruddin and Mrs. Fatima Qureshy Qumaruddin, who protected their three children and kept us from harm during those troubled times. They had the foresight to escape to the Dacca cantonment and stay with the Pakistani Army, so that we were evacuated out of Bangladesh. They supported and nurtured us when we needed them most. They instilled, in us, our love of education and hard work and inspired me to be what I am today. Without their courage, I would have been lost, like so many others.