PAKPATTAN: Near the city of Pakpattan along the railway tracks, lies a quiet little village — Tibba Nanak Sar. The local legend says that this was the place where Baba Guru Nanak met Sheikh Ibrahim, the spiritual heir of the great Baba Fariduddin Ganj Shakar.
In the meeting, Farid’s verses reached the ears of Guru Nanak and from this small, silent village, those sacred words reached the Granth Sahib. A modest, orange-colored gurdwara still stands here, quietly commemorating that historic encounter.
Crossing through the villages of Pakka Sadhar and Chak Azmat, one reaches Chak Datar Singh, which has a railway station whose building is hidden behind the neem trees. Just a decade back, the name in Urdu script “Datar Singh Railway Station” was written on it in black paint. Then came fresh whitewash, bringing a new name and Datar Singh was replaced with “Murad Chishti”.
This was once the land of Datar Singh — a man who returned from the United Kingdom after studying agriculture and dairy farming. In Montgomery (Sahiwal), he established united India’s first dairy farm. He bred an excellent breed of cows and buffaloes and the British Empire honoured him with the titles of ‘Sir’ and ‘Sardar Bahadur.’ This same Datar Singh was also the maternal grandfather of Maneka Gandhi, daughter-in-law of India’s former Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi.
In the village of ‘Punjab Khor’ near Delhi, Datar Singh’s grandson later established a dairy farm of his own. He named it “Montgomery Dairy Farm” in remembrance of those lost days.
From Chak Datar Singh, a road leads to a large mound — an ancient tibba having old graves and broken pottery pieces. Beside it lies a village, also called “Tibba” (the mound). In the heart of the village, stands a two-storey building whose dome can be seen from afar. This is Gurdwara Tibba Sahib.
Before the Partition, the city of Pakpattan and its surrounding villages were home to a significant Sikh population, alongside the Muslims and the Hindus. Most of the Sikh families were farmers.
Hundreds of Sikh pilgrims used to gather at the gurdwara which had a thriving life. Pilgrims bathed in the sarovar, washing their hands, faces, and feet — becoming pure before entering the holy place. The sangat would stay in the rooms here. Delicious prasad was cooked and served in abundance.
The elders remember an annual fair that used to be held at Gurdwara Tibba Sahib. Not only Sikhs but Hindus and Muslims too visited the annual fair and the gurdwara stood as a symbol of harmony and love.
Sardar Gurdip Singh, the nephew of Sardar Sir Datar Singh (Chak Datar Singh village was named after him) now lives in Karnal, India. He was about 15 when India was partitioned. His family lived in Arifwala (Pakpattan) who owned lands in surrounding villages of Tibba.
“I recall the annual mela (fair) was held at Gurdwara Tibba Sahib. Hundreds of Sikhs from far-off places would participate in it. The mela is an important and indelible part of my memories of my native land,” he tells this writer.
In 1947, the Hindus and Sikhs from this side were forced to cross the newly drawn border while the Muslims from the other side faced the same fate. Everyone lost something—their homes, their temples, their friends and their memories.
Just as they left behind fields, cattle, homes and dreams, this gurdwara too was left behind — abandoned.
Nazeer Ahmad was 12 years old when he migrated from Bahman Wala (Muktsar, Indian Punjab) along with his family. They settled at Chak Azmat, the neighbouring village of Tibba. He says: “Gurdwara Tibba Sahib used to be a marvellous edifice. It was showy, eye-catching and nawa nakore (brand new). With the passage of time it kept losing its beauty due to rains and storms. The residents didn’t take care of it, nor did the government. Now it has become old like me.”
The gurdwara fell into silence. Now, no one can read gurmukhi script inscribed on its doors and walls. A Muslim family, themselves migrants from across the border, now lives here. Their bedding, trunks and utensils fill the rooms of the gurdwara. Broken pots lie toppled on the Nishan Sahib. In the langar hall, a couple of goats munch on fodder, their bleating echoing softly. The steps of the sarovar are stacked with rows of cow dung cakes. In the pond, mustard flowers sway in the breeze — dancing softly in the twilight.
Gurdwara Tibba Sahib is turning to dust day by day. The Gurmukhi inscriptions are fading while paint of the walls is peeling. If somebody pays attention to it, its past glory can still be restored as all is not lost.
Published in Dawn, May 29th, 2025
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