Harjit Kaur Singh

This short biography is about my mom’s early life, the family and the environment in which she grew up in both Punjab and Utter Pradesh, and when she came to America. She was born in Happowal, a small sized village just NW of Banga, Punjab on September (or thereabout since actual birth dates were not commonly recorded in those days) 26, 1925. Her father’s name was Banta Singh Kandola and mother’s maiden name was Bishan (commonly known as Biso) Kaur Rai. Her father was the youngest of three brothers and one sister. Her babaji’s name was Narain Singh. Her mom had two brothers, Bishna and Hazara, who lived in Gunachaur. Her Nani was Kaymee. Mom had one elder sister, Sis Kaur, and three younger brothers Bhukhan, Sadhu and Malkit. So she grew up surrounded by many family members, as well as many village girls of her age in both Happowal and Gunachaur. There was no lonely time for her, she was well cared for and loved by her parents and grandparents.

Village life those days was not much different than that existed for many centuries. There were no indoor toilets, no paved roads, and no means of transport other than oxen-drawn carts, wagons, or horse-drawn carriage (tangas). Rail was the only mode of transportation, provided one could afford that. Very few people traveled farther than a few miles from their villages. There was only one bus on the main dirt road that made only few stops in cities. Some never went to town during their lifetime.

Although my mom was a gifted child, she was not allowed to go to school; those days education took back seat for girls. Even for boys education was not a priority, plowing fields and taking care of animals was top priority. So she grew up cooking, spinning cotton, knitting, carrying food to field workers. She helped with bringing water from the wells. Hand water pumps were rare those days. She helped with milking buffaloes in the afternoon, in the morning, along with her sister Sis Kaur, helped to churn the milk in a big clay vessel (rirkana) with a madhani to make butter (ghee) and buttermilk (lassi). There was a plenty of time for village girls to socialize, sing folk songs, play rudimentary games, play hide and seek, in other words, she had a lot of fun growing up in a village. Many times girls got together in the evening to spun cotton and sing religious and folk songs. There was plenty of story (baats) telling at night time. There was plenty of food, all types of brass utensils, thalis, shanas, pateelas, garvas, and large clay vessels for storing water and grain. It was a great life, the only life they knew. There were no radios, television, phones, electric power or paved roads. Only light at night time, if any, was with divas (lamps) that used mustard oil or crude (mitti) oil.

In 1938 she got married. She was only 13 years old. It was common those days for girls to be married at that age. The wedding itself was a three days affair. My grandfather Dalip Singh, my father, relatives, along with village males (it was custom that only males from the groom side attended the wedding) came on oxen drawn carts, carriages to Happowal for the wedding ceremony. (Our father loved racing oxen drawn carriages.)They stayed there for 3 days. They were taken well care of by the mom’s immediate family members, village folks, who shared their housing, bedding, and other necessities. They were well fed around the clock, given plenty of liquor to drink, and sweets to eat. The ladies sang folk songs throughout the nights. It was a big, happy affair. Mom, along with her guard nain, went in a dolli (carriage) joined by the grooms party to Thandian. Mom and dad were not allowed to see each other that night. Next day she returned to Happowal. Then came her maklava, time when the wife actually starts living at her husband’s house, at the time she was 17, she was escorted to Thandian. Her father gave her many gifts, including a large santhuk filled with bundles of clothes, gold jewelry (earrings, large necklaces, and bangles “bangas” ) and 101 rupees cash (about 25 dollars in those days, considered a large sum of money during that time).

In 1941, unexpectedly her father Banta Singh died. It devastated the whole family. Mourning lasted for years. My mom was very close to her father. She said he was very gentle, affectionate and kind hearted person. It was a big personal loss to her. Then in 1943, her mom and her tiaji Chanda Singh decided to move to Ranipur, near Palia in Utter Pradesh. (The family kept the farm in Happowal.) The land in Ranipur was cheap, had a plenty of irrigation water, soil was very fertile, so it would be a good move for them. They developed the land and became very successful there. The move was somewhat similar to those families who migrated from Oklahoma, Texas, and Arkansas, after the dust bowl period in 1930s, to California.

During our periodic travel to Ranipur, we would take train from Banga, then change at Phagwara to go through Flor, Luthiana, Ambala, Saharnpur, to Bareily. Then again change trains that went through Pilibhit, Puranpur to Mailani. Then again change trains to go to Palia Kalan, and finally walk to Ranipur. Typically it took 3 days, sometimes four if we missed the train connection, which was not uncommon. Many times at the Mailani train station, awhile waiting outdoors whole night for the connecting train, we would had to endure harsh black dust storms (kali mitti kut) during the summers and very harsh cold weather during the winter months.

At Ranipur, at her mom’s house, she was treated like a queen. Her brothers, mother and mamiji (Harbans Kaur) made sure that she enjoyed her 6 months to a year stay there. She quickly learned the native language Bhojpuri, a dialect of Hindi. I enjoyed going into the fields with my uncles (mamajis). I typically sat on the fender of a tractor, or ran behind the discs and once in a while would run fast enough and jump on and off the disc platform. Typically at night time the tractor was parked high on a sloped area. In the morning they would hand crank it to start turn the motor, sometimes it would not start so it was pushed down the slope to get it started. It was fun for me to help them push the tractor down the slope. In the evening, I enjoyed going on a horseback with Malkit mamaji to the food market in Palia to pick up fresh fish and vegetables. I had a wonderful time with my mamajis and naniji.

In Thandian, mom quickly earned respect from her in laws, my grandfather Dalip Singh, grandmother Hukhmani, granduncle Bawa Singh, granduncle Narain Singh and my uncles (chachajis) Sarwan and Piara Singh, and tiaji Sucha Singh. Within a few years, she was joined in the family by chachaji’s wives Udam Kaur and Charan Kaur. They shared all the household chores together, treated each other like close sisters, confidants, and helped raised each other’s children as their own. No distinction was made between cousins; all children were brothers and sisters. So we have lots of sisters and brothers to this day. She highly respected her sisters-in-law, our bhuajis, Kartari, Bhago and Chano as dear sisters.

Older brother’s wife is politely called bhabiji. So after them we (my brother Lal, sister Harbans and I) also called our mom bhabiji to this day.

Our father joined our granduncle Esher Singh in America in 1950. A few years later he became an American citizen, petitioned our mom, my younger brother Lal and me to come to the United States. In November 1958, dad went to India to see all the family members and to accompany us to the States. Then in late March we headed for America. First a train trip from Phagwara to Delhi. Then a long, but enjoyable, 4 or 5 days of plane ride to Fresno. It was exciting to view the vast territory from the plane window; first stop was in Karachi, then beautiful Istanbul, then we flew over Alps covered with snow and quickly landed in Geneva, then London (stayed overnight in a hotel), Boston (place of first landing in America), then train ride to New York, stayed overnight on the 60th floor at the Empire State Building, then next day flight to Los Angeles, stayed overnight at LA, and finally the last leg to Fresno. During my father’s visit to India, granduncle Esher had moved to a new house. Since dad did not have his new phone number, we took a taxi to the Selma home. Mom had a motion sickness on the plane throughout the trip; dad took really good care of her during the whole trip.

Our communication with the relatives back home was through hand written letters only. One of my chores was to routinely write letters to Thandian, Dosanjha, Samrari, Ranipur, Poonian, Sandhwan, then to relatives in England and Canada. There was no other mode of communication. My brother Lal and I quickly adapted to school, working in fields, doing all farm accounting, filing monthly, quarterly, annual reports and then filing annual tax returns.

Mom was a homely person, she did cooking, cleaning, and farm work. My granduncle Esher and I became very close. On Sundays he would take me in his pickup truck to either visit his old time friends, or downtown Selma Park, Roeding Park, or just to a restaurant for a lunch. When I enrolled in college, he would proudly tell his friends that he is grandfather of educated one (mehn hunn parria the baba huhn).

Within 3 years of our arrival here, mom gave birth to two beautiful daughters Julie and Elaine at the Kingsburg Hospital. Now her hands were really full. We helped mom taking care of Julie and Elaine. It was fun to take care our little sisters; they were gorgeous babies, didn’t cry much and were very happy. I never heard Elaine ever crying, she had smile on her face all the time. They were quick learners. I was always impressed as to how many books they had read in elementary school. They received numerous gold stars. Although life was hard those days, not much different than that in India, it was a happy one. We would go to Stockton Gurudawara (Pacific Coast Khalsa Divan Society) every 3 months or so. Those days Gurudawara had full accountability and transparency. That was the only Gurudawara in America other than a small house turned into a Gurudawara in El Centro. At the Stockton Gurudawara mom made a lots of Punjabi lady friends from Yuba City. They all said that mom was the sweetest and gentlest lady they ever met. I totally agree with them.

In the 1960s there were only handful Punjabi families in Fresno. In the late 1960s, with the new immigration laws, many families, one by one, started to immigrate to America. Before too long, in 1967 our oldest sister Harbans with her husband Gurdev and son Charnjit, chacha Sarwan came to America. They were followed in Dec. 1968 by chacha Piara , Mohan and Dilbagh, and later on rest of the family members started to settle here in the States. Our youngest brother Inderjit was born in Dec 1969. He had a plenty of company to raise him. He along with Charnjit and Elaine spent many memorable summers in Livermore with us.

Mom has been blessed with many grand- and great-grand children. My wife Surinder, our daughters Annup, Rupe and Cindy, and our grandchildren Shane, Mikey (Ishi), Sarina were very fortunate to have mom stay long periods with us during the past 5 years. She had a lots of fun, reminiscing old times; it was always fun to see her trying to pick up great-grand children. We were lucky to celebrate her 84th birthday in Livermore. She will be missed by us all.