Eighty-five-year-old Ishar Das Arora is among the last generation of people to have witnessed India’s independence from British rule in 1947. He was only seven years old at the time. However, this freedom came with the ravages of partition, as the Indian subcontinent split into Hindu-majority India and the newly created Muslim-majority state of Pakistan.
This division triggered the largest forced migration in 20th-century South Asia that was not driven by war or famine. Partition resulted in the deaths of more than a million people, displaced some 14 million, and left billions of rupees worth of property destroyed.
Born in Bela, a small village in West Punjab, in 1940, Arora fondly recalls his daily walks to school in the nearby village of Ziarat. Like millions of other refugees, he has a harrowing story of forced expulsion from his home in the dead of night. Yet, what sustains his faith to this day is the memory of his Muslim neighbor, who took it upon himself to protect him from the mobs that fateful night.
“I grew up listening to the stories of my grandfather wanting to go back to his old home, his school in Ziarat, [the] temple and mosque in the village, and the desire to meet his childhood friends,” says Sparsh Ahuja, Arora’s grandson.
Communities that had coexisted for centuries turned against each other in a brutal outbreak of sectarian violence, with Hindus and Sikhs living on the Pakistani side fleeing to India, while millions of Muslims made the journey in the opposite direction. Armed groups on both sides of the new border sparked widespread rioting, committing acts of rape and massacres against those fleeing.
Deep Wounds
Today, the wounds of partition remain deep, as India and Pakistan continue to view each other with distrust. The two nations have fought three major wars since 1947, and both maintain nuclear arsenals and military forces positioned against one another. The intangible impact of partition also seeped into personal lives, tearing apart friendships and families and leaving behind the pain of nostalgia and loss.
Moved by the longing in his grandfather’s voice, Ahuja, who was at Oxford University studying philosophy and economics, got talking with his Pakistani friend and fellow Oxford student, Ameena Malak, in 2018. They discovered a shared connection: both of their grandfathers longed to revisit the ancestral homes partition had forced them to leave behind.
However, obtaining a visa to travel between the two nations remains challenging for citizens of either country due to the political tensions, even under the best circumstances. Considering the challenges, the duo created Project Dastaan, which means story in Urdu.
Reconnecting through VR
The project aims to heal old wounds by using virtual reality (VR) and other technologies to reconnect partition survivors like Arora with their childhood homes. Volunteers in India and Pakistan use 360-degree cameras to locate and film these places. It allows them to create a customized VR experience with the help of VR glasses, bringing these locations to life for the displaced.
Ahuja describes starting the project and sharing it with his grandfather for the first time as a journey of “tracing his roots.” The 26-year-old documentary filmmaker explained, “I was on a call with my grandfather when I went to Pakistan, and he guided me to the village. Although the village had changed a lot, he immediately remembered a field where he used to play.”
Upon returning, Ahuja fitted Arora with a headset and took him on a virtual tour of Bela, showing his school, the mosque beside where his house once stood, and the son and grandson of the Muslim neighbor who had saved his life — all captured in a six-minute video.
“It was a deeply touching experience because it was the first time anyone from my family had returned to the place we once belonged,” Ahuja recalled. He added that when the VR video ended, his grandfather said, “You have touched your homeland with your feet; I am so proud of you.”
Inherited Nostalgia
Many, like Ahuja, who work as peace educators across the subcontinent, believe that despite the memory of violence, those who experienced partition have inherited a profound nostalgia of that time.
So far, Project Dastaan has documented the oral histories of 30 participants from India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh and reconnected 15 of them with their ancestral homes.
“We are likely witnessing the last generation of people who lived through partition, but their memories are also fading. This means that there is an urgent need to record and document their stories,” said Devika Mittal, a peace educator and assistant professor at the University of Delhi.
We are likely witnessing the last generation of people who lived through partition, but their memories are also fading.
Mittal views initiatives like Project Dastaan as particularly significant during politically challenging times. “These projects effectively serve as partition archives and provide a closure to the curiosity of how one’s home or village has changed over time.”
Over the last six years, the project has developed a VR film called “Child of Empire,” which provides a walkthrough experience that puts viewers in the shoes of two refugees trying to cross the border.
It also includes a series of animated shorts called “Lost Migrations,” a unique cross-border coproduction between India, Pakistan, and the UK that explores themes of identity and belonging, explains Saadia Gardezi, a Pakistani journalist who, along with her colleague Sam Dalrymple, joined as a project lead across the border.
“Shared Heritage”
“I have some unforgettable childhood memories of my grandmother sharing stories about the struggles of that generation and the shared heritage of the two countries,” said Gardezi, whose grandmother worked at refugee camps in Lahore.
“It might sound crazy, but I believe VR is an excellent medium to evoke empathy and help people experience the past in a way that makes them feel as if they are actually there,” she added.
Decades after its creation, virtual reality gained popularity in the 1990s as a tool for computer gaming. However, as the technology evolved, its immersive capabilities found diverse applications, ranging from combating human trafficking to addressing dementia. A notable use of VR in documenting the lives of refugees and migrants was “Carne y Arena,” or “Flesh and Sand,” a 2017 installation by filmmaker Alejandro González Iñárritu. It depicted the experiences of Mexican and Central American migrants and refugees attempting to reach the United States.
Despite the advantages of innovative cultural projects, Mittal believes they often take a backseat during political conflicts. “Politics tends to overshadow culture, and this is evident in how politicians attempt to control cultural influences,” she said. “This is likely because culture has the power to unite us.”
Gardezi added that the current generation is losing touch with the traditions their grandparents grew up with, and the idea that neighbors of different religions, ethnicities, or belief systems can coexist peacefully. “Our project aims to preserve and remember those values,” she added.
After spending years in a slate of refugee camps, Arora eventually settled in New Delhi. There, he now enjoys keeping in touch with his neighbor’s son in Bela over WhatsApp. “Whenever I visit my grandfather, he proudly shows me the messages they have exchanged about festivals, health issues, and everyday life,” Ahuja said.
