‘Round and Round the Persian Wheel’ by Maninder Singh is a moving family saga in shadow of Partition

Harvinder Khetal

In ‘Round and Round the Persian Wheel’, Maninder Singh crafts a moving narrative set against the tumultuous backdrop of Partition, a period that forever altered the lives of millions. The book delves into the profound struggles of a family as they navigate the chaos and displacement brought on by one of the most significant events in the subcontinent’s history.

The story centres on Kishen, who works diligently in his elder brother Tej Singh’s workshop, repairing Persian wheels — a symbol of the cyclical nature of life and resilience. Kishen’s life takes a dramatic turn when his mother-in-law, Bibi, arrives with her young children, fleeing the violence in West Punjab in 1947. This sudden upheaval thrusts Kishen into the role of the family’s primary support, a responsibility he embraces despite the overwhelming challenges.

Singh’s portrayal of Kishen is both poignant and inspiring. His wife, Daya, is depicted with delicate sensitivity as she struggles to cope with the disappearance of her father, who left home to protect abducted women and was never heard from again. As she rues, “For father, being a soldier at heart, honour always took precedence over reason. He mounted a mare and rode into the setting sun accompanied by a dozen-odd men.”

Daya’s retreat into herself is a stark contrast to Kishen’s determined resilience, creating a powerful dynamic that drives the narrative forward. The arrival of their son, Tejpal, introduces a new ray of hope into their lives. Singh expertly uses Tejpal’s birth as a symbol of renewal and the indomitable human spirit. Kishen’s tireless efforts and dreams for Tejpal’s future become the heart of the story, representing the universal desire for a better tomorrow amidst the ruins of the past.

Singh’s writing is evocative, bringing to life the emotional and physical landscapes of post-Partition India. They include references to the Punjabi Suba Movement, which reveals the cyclical nature of things, as the author points out: “It was Hindu-Sikh versus Muslims then, it is Hindi versus Punjabi now.”

The other big event of the time is the Green Revolution, which, along with mechanised farming, heralds the decline of Kishen’s vocation of repairing Persian wheels. Such transactions as Kishen receiving two wide wood planks as payment from a farmer for his work on a well, too, are a rarity now. Even the then novelty of going to “live in the town, in a house with electric bulbs” seems quaint. So would this sight described in the book be for many of us: “As the bullocks began to take slow rounds of the rotary mechanism, the wheel started rotating and the buckets began to pour water into the tub, which, through a pipe fell into a drain and further into a watercourse.”

However, as the wheels of time move, some things apparently never change. Like, the time a peon made Kishen wait endlessly for meeting Tehsildar Saab. On his return without the meeting’s fruition, his friend explained: “I know his type. You should have taken something for him as a present.”

Singh’s characters are richly developed, each carrying the weight of their experiences with a quiet strength. The narrative is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the power of hope in the face of insurmountable odds.

‘Round and Round the Persian Wheel’ is a compelling read. Singh’s storytelling is both heart-wrenching and uplifting, making this book a notable contribution to literature on Partition and its enduring impact. The narrative not only illuminates the past, but also offers timeless lessons on the strength of the human spirit as he dedicates the second part to Tejpal’s endeavours to bettering his life, marked by highs and lows.