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Fazal Ka Bangla

While I'm sure I first read about the partition, like most of us did, during a history class in school, the first exchange actually do remember is with my grandmother back when I was 11, I think.

I used to spend my summers with her back then, because she always had the best stories to tell, and I was her favourite audience. Amongst the many folk tales that she narrated to me over the years, I remember her briefly recounting her journey from her childhood home in Pakistan to India one night, as I lay next to her staring at the ceiling fan trying to imagine what it must've felt like, and how we got here.

When I asked her if she'd be willing to recount her journey for what I'm sure was going to the millionth time, in front of the camera, she willingly agreed.

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