Part-I
My ancestral village, birthplace too, is located almost
exactly between Larkana and Ratodero; former is a larger town (city, some may
call it now), a district headquarters then but now a divisional headquarters,
and the latter a Tehsil (one of many units of a district on administrative
grounds; also called ‘Taluka’ in Sindhi) town. It is mere 2 miles from Garhi
Khuda Bakhsh Bhutto, a renowned village and eternal resting place of unfortunate
Bhutto family.
My father, perhaps the only one in the entire village who was
educated to a respectable level, decided to move his family from the village to
Ratodero for two reasons; he was serving as a clerk in an office there, and the
future of his children. Hence, we shifted to Ratodero in early 1963. I came to
senses in this town though I very faintly remember migration on a bullock-cart
(now, this could be a mere visualization after listening to this tale many a
times from my elder brother). My father got me registered in a Primary Sindhi School
in 1965 and I went on to complete my fourth grade here before moving to Larkana
in 1969.
While still in Ratodero we never missed an opportunity to
visit Larkana, situated only 18 miles away and connected with paved/metallic
road. It was a city bustling with a number of bazaars that remained opened even
after sunset, three cinema houses, a large bus stand and most importantly, a Railway
Station. Our father would often hire a Willys Jeep ( its’ engine would not run
with key ignition but with a handle inserted and rotated swiftly from its’
front engine side) in the afternoons and take whole family to visit Larkana to
watch a Pakistani Urdu film and return back to home at midnight. That was good
olden peaceful era when you knew nothing about kidnappers or terrorists. Nevertheless,
father would still carry a licensed revolver with him for safety from wild
boars, jackals and dacoits. I remember, once while driving back to Ratodero in middle
of the night, father sitting on front seat along with driver suddenly shot at
some object with his revolver. It was a wild boar, he said. We, however, didn’t
stop and continued our journey.
Let me share my first ever adventure of traveling to Larkana with
a classmate named Sheroo. After coming back from school I dropped the bag at
home and without informing my Mom, we departed by bus for Larkana only to buy a
booklet of newly released Urdu film whose songs we loved to listen to and enjoyed
a lot at the tender age of less than 10 years. It took us about an hour to
reach there. I was carrying about 75 Paisa (12 Aanay i.e. 3/4 of a Rupee) in my
pocket. Sheroo was richer by 50 Paisa. The Bus Conductors were generous on both
ways and didn’t ask for the fare from us, the two cute boys. We strolled in the
bazaars, enjoyed eating some sweets and bought the soft-covered booklet of Urdu
film ‘Darshan’ in 25 Paisa which entailed a summary of film story and full lyrics
of all songs. We returned home a bit later after sunset, only to learn that
massive hunt was going on by our respective families in the town. Little
scolding and a big hug from teary Mom was a happy ending of this adventure. (Continued)
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