Mrs. Shanta Batra was born to a cloth merchant in Mandalay Myanmar on 19th August 1923. She and her seven siblings fled Burma in 1942 during World War 2 due to the fear of aerial strikes. The family walked through Lido road Manipur and took two full months to reach Guwahati, Assam on foot. They then took a train to Lucknow followed by another one to Lahore.
She was married to Mr. HL Batra in 1946 in Lahore at the age of 21 after having finished her graduation in Hindi literature called “Prabhakar” course at the time. Her husband was then an employee at a local bank.
Mrs. Batra once again had to flee along with her family in 1947 due to partition and the related violence. They reached Shimla where they stayed temporarily and finally settled in New Delhi where she built her house in 1967 and brought up her seven children. This month marks a hundred glorious years of her life on the Indian subcontinent.
A Letter to my Grandmother…
“A Golden Heart”
Just another page,
A joyful glaze ….
Just another past ,
Our cherished path…..
Just another winter ,
A ruffled memory on the walls it cast.
Just another powerful talk,
A snippet of Her Golden heart !
Just today ,
Was yesterday
Just tomorrow,
A dream to stay
Just wholesome ,
May not be whole enough….
Witnessing the historic parade
Protected by the homely shade
The sound of trotting horses
The shimmering murals and mosses
Just the memories
Just the sights
Just a little more …
Of her Golden sight!
When her children unite
Her legacy shines bright…
It is there …
The 100 years suffice…
Amidst the walls ….
Amidst the Chitter -chatter
Her Golden Heart thrives!
In the middle of the night the sirens ran high as an air strike on residential colonies was eminent. The year was 1942..and leaving your palatial childhood home with walls as high as the skies and courtyards full of antiques, you ran, all but a child, in the wee hours of the night with nothing but your wits and the need to survive.
The way ahead was perilous, full of uncertainty as you left every comfort. You walked on foot through the jungle and via boats through the tributaries of the Brahmaputra.. to cross over to the land which was then called ‘British India.’ A sense of calm for escaping the bombardments was quickly replaced by the fear of an unknown land and its people.
The family settled in Lahore and in the year 1946 you were married to my grandfather who then became the father of your seven children. You filled your matrimonial home with love, care and affection. The feeling of calm and contentment was in abundance. The year 1947, however, brought with it religious tensions. Once again, with nothing but a few utensils for cooking and your will to survive, you left overnight.
The history of Hindustan cannot be deliberated without that of the partition of British India. Although there are a number of untold stories still… I am proud to say that I have heard yours in person and it inspires me everyday. It is very rare indeed to have the honour and privilege of knowing a lady who has witnessed and survived not one but two migrations in South East Asia.
In the summer afternoons of Delhi, I would sit with you and talk for hours in what became my childhood home. To me, the story of your life is, in a way, the story of India. In 1967, you and Nana built your final home. True to your past, this one too had high ceilings, a courtyard and garden for the children to play. I would watch you for hours while you sowed crochet work on white handkerchiefs… a hobby developed in the midst of the chaos of bringing up seven children!
They say our educational institutions are responsible for teaching us values, I am proud and privileged that in addition to my schooling, I had you, a role model, to help with my upbringings and values. You taught me the value of kindness by carrying out tasks of charity regularly and the value of undying loyalty, as I saw you put your family first, repeatedly. You showed to the world how to balance priorities and multitask as you constantly, till this day, balance the wants and needs of all your children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. You are the foremost authority in skills of organising and patience as you take on tasks day after day.
But most of all you showed me…. The value of a Golden Heart!
Yours lovingly,
Jahnvi
Your granddaughter
*written by Jahnvi Sharma,
Advocate & Author