[Forum Game] World in Revolution: 1920

My grandfather, a Carpenter, was born in India. He married an Indian woman, and had Indian children. My father and his siblings were all taught local traditions, the local language and prayed to the same Gods that their forefather did for centuries. My father raised me in the same ways, and I married a woman who was born merely a mile from where I was. I have no doubts about my national identity. I am Indian, and I am Hindu. I fled my little town with thousands of others, just as the Red militias approached our city, burning all in their path. The Black Banners, followers of Islam sent into India to purge Socialism and rescue stranded Muslims, marched out a mere week before, leaving behind three dozen “Socialists” swinging dead from the trees. They swore to us that if we moved them they would know and come back. One of those socialists was my elderly uncle, and another was my child’s teacher. Another one of them was a woman I’d once saved when a tree branch fell on her during a storm. All of them were now dead, killed by a pointless war between two vaguely different systems, and it was without doubt that if the Reds entered our defenceless town, we would be blamed for it. We were stuck between two opposing fronts, and neither side wanted to help us. We were not labourers, peasants, or workers, so we would get no help from the Bolsheviks. We were not Muslims, Pakistanis or Englishmen, so the Black Banners would not escort us out either. The only people we had were ourselves.

We fled with next to nothing. I left behind a three bedroom house, fully furnished, barely just paid off three years past. I left behind my job, the graveyard that contained my family, and many of my friends, who’d chosen not to go. They were all well off, and they have all most likely perished. Terrified, we ran during the night, in thick forests and via secluded mountain passes, heading north. We bypassed the loose frontline, losing a few to artillery shells, and finally reached the border just as winter was coming in. I cannot describe how relieved to be let in without problems – in my mind we’d get turned back, arrested or simply shot to pieces by guards. We settled into poverty in a small Pakistani town, which was now overrun by Hindu immigrants with no money and no possessions. I used to be a Doctor, but there was no hospital ready to pay me, so I became a labourer. I worked hard, and from a leaking shack we moved into a house, and soon enough some of us started to open new businesses, start new careers and even learn the local tongue. We began to assimilate. I now have three Muslim friends, and my son is taught about the local customs by a Pakistani man. We have slowly been more and more accepted into this safe haven, for which we are eternally grateful to the Pakistani people and government.

But this is not the land of our fathers. The land of our fathers lies south. It is where our Gods are, and our culture, and our heritage. I used to think of it as a birth right. But now I know that nothing in this world is granted to you; you must fight for it. Yet the Hindus have no ability to do so. We came here beggars and defenceless lambs. We have grown richer as the economy around is grew, but we are still not capable of protecting ourselves in the slightest. The Pakistani government needs to make use of this influx of manpower that has crossed the border. If they really do want to stop Communism at all costs, then they should give weapons to those whom Communism has hurt the most. Let us protect our new homeland, and protect ourselves. Create Hindu divisions, an army of free men, loyal to the rightful cause. We will serve dutifully, and if the day of war does come, we will go south, and reclaim that what was once ours.

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