My first memory is of a train journey from Delhi to Karachi in August 1947. I was 4 years old, and our family, along with hundreds of thousands of other Muslim refugees, was heading to the new country of Pakistan. We were lucky to have survived the killing fields of Punjab where Sikhs, Muslims and Hindus were slaughtering each other after the British had divided the subcontinent into two independent countries: India, where the majority population was Hindu, and Pakistan, where the majority was Muslim. For us, Karachi symbolized hope and optimism.
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Source: http://feeds.washingtonpost.com/click.phdo?i=41cc7d7820bac03dfa12fb8a7fd68fc5
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