Duration: 00:08:37

(00:03:00): Gopi Kaur: In the morning, we were all sitting together at home. My elder son was an apprentice at a unit in Moti Nagar. He had dropped out of school after passing 9th grade. He told his father that he wanted to work. So he had gone to Moti Nagar. All the other children and my husband were sitting around at home. We started hearing that Mrs. Indira Gandhi had been shot. We didn’t know who had shot her. We didn’t know what was going on anyway. My maternal uncle’s son also came by. There were others too from the neighbourhood. Everyone was apprehensive. No one knew what would happen. We had a television set at home and we watched the news. While we were watching the news, a group of people came to our Gurudwara (Sikh temple) to attack it. So all of our menfolk as well as women went out to understand what was happening. They said they wanted to burn down the Gurudwara. So our men returned home and took out their arms—daggers, sticks—whatever they had, to put up a defence. By then the police had also arrived there. They told our men to return home peacefully and reassured them that no one would attack the Gurudwara. They took away the weapons. And everyone returned home. Then after a gap of five to 10 minutes, a full…

Harpal Singh: Mob? Gopi Kaur: Yes, 50 to 60 people showed up. They were led by Sajjan Kumar (Congress Member of Parliament of the area at that time), followed by police, followed by the mob. They entered the Gurudwara and defiled the holy book. They tore its pages, spitted on it. So all our men again went there. Our men said Mrs. Indira Gandhi was everyone’s mother, including ours, so why are you defiling our Gurudwara? Why are you doing all this? Our men were pushed back from there by the police. It started a cane charge. Our truck was parked outside. The mob poured petrol on it and set it on fire. They then lobbed a burning object into a room of our house. My husband told me to put out the fire in the truck and save it. I told him to not get agitated and let the truck burn because it was a huge mob and trying to do anything would be futile. To safeguard our children, we opened the box beds and told all five of them to lie down inside and hide. I told my husband also to hide under the bed. We had two doors; it was a corner house. I went out with folded hands and stood there crying. I asked Sajjan Kumar what our fault was. I said my truck has been burnt. My house has been set on fire. I don’t know where my children are. So he said kill the Sikhs. Kill them. They are snakes. They will sting us if they survive. I spent the whole day crying like that. No one had eaten anything. We were thirsty, hungry. We had no food or water. In the evening again, there were fires all around. We didn’t know where to go, what to do.

Then, there was a Gorkha family that lived behind our house. So the man of the house came over late evening. We knew him. He was a very nice man. He asked for my husband. My husband told him that he was hiding to save his life. We said we have hidden the children also inside. That we had no food or water. We had been like that for an entire night and an entire day. So he said you send your children over to my house—one at a time. So we sent our kids there. That left me and my husband in the house. I had a brother-in-law. He, my husband and three other Sikh men, so five in all, then hid in their house. But someone got wind of it. So the mob came. They said there are Sikhs hiding here. So they set that room on fire. I was outside. They then dragged my husband out and broke his legs. Then they poured petrol over him and burnt his face. My husband told them not to kill him in front of the children. He said, ‘if you want to kill me then take me away from here’. So they grabbed him from his hair. He had coiled them in a bun on his head. So they dragged him to the main square outside. Then they went to the Gorkha family’s house. They said there are children inside. The man of the house came out and told them that his wife was pregnant and about to deliver the baby and the doctor was already inside. He requested them not to break his door. That house, actually, had 10 to 15 Sikh children. Then, my son, in that melee, the military arrived and rescued all the children. Five children were mine, four of my sister, and two-three belonged to other neighbours. Then the mob started abusing the head of the Gorkha family. They asked him why he had not told them about the presence of children in his house. He argued back. He said why did you want to kill the children when you had already killed their parents. So the military took everyone to the parks to sit in the open and wait. No one knew where to go. So when we were being taken to the police station, I saw my husband and that sight completely freaked me out. I turned cold as a stone. I had lost my husband and my children were still not united with me. By this time, the police had started escorting the families to the waiting vehicles. My sister-in-law’s elder brother-in-law asked me, ‘aunty, where are your children?’ I said I don’t know. I was continuously crying and looking for them. I had no stole over my head and no woolens to wear. After all, the winter had set in and there was a chill in the air. He told me to sit in the vehicle. I said I would do that only when I was able to find my children. So the military officer kept me back and dispatched the vehicle, saying that they would wait for my children to arrive and then send me in the next round. My children finally joined me. Then my elder son saw his father in that condition. He had been burnt. My son recognized him from the name which was inscribed on his forearm. He had long hair and they were flowing back. So my son walked around where his father’s body lay and collected anything he could get: parts of broken cots, sticks, rags, wood, fuel from parked vehicles, etc. He then covered his father with these and cremated him there itself. Then we sat down in the army vehicle. And he was still reassuring me about his father and said he was going to follow us shortly. ‘I’m with you mother’, he said. My youngest son was two years old at that time. So we were taken to the police station.

Son, I have started forgetting a lot of the details because my mind has become totally numb. When I was in the Gorkha family’s house, there was no water to drink there. As I said, my youngest son was two years old then. And I had spent a night with that family in their house. That night, my son felt thirsty and gestured for water. I had no way to get him water. There was a pitcher with a broken cover there. So I got him to pee in that, dipped the edges of my stole and moistened his lips with that cloth. What could I do, my son? I wet his lips with that cloth.

(00:11:30)