When my family migrated from East Pk to West Pk in the 70s, some of my uncles lost their names during the move. They were brought through the Red Cross. Whenever a call came from the ICRC, they'd take up the name available. In the proces, all of their names got shuffled. +

My father, aged 16, and a couple of his younger siblings had escaped to Katmandu by land routes when the bloodshed started in East Pak. My grandfather who worked for the national refinery was kidnapped and killed by his subordinates. When the little money they had ran out +

my uncles would camp by the river to catch fish for food and sell the excess it in the local market. They sold whatever they could find. Fruit, garments, metal scraps, anything. My uncle, 12 or 13 at the time would stay home to cook an clean. They were eventually able to +

return to Pakistan after a few years and reunite with the rest of the family. +

Whereas, part of my extended naniyal, surrendered to the Indian army when the civil war broke out. They lived in Indian prison for over a year, b4 being recovered by the Pak govt. In that year of captivity, some had children. Some of my mum's cousins were born in Indian prison.

So every time I hear about "generational wealth" it only sounds like a fairytale to me. In 3 generations, we have had to escape war twice over night and start fresh. First in 1947 from India to E Pak. Then in 1970s from E Pak to W Pak. But if we speak about generational wealth +

all of mine's split between India and Bangladesh.

My grandmother came from money. She was an orphan & heir extensive land in India. My great grand father started Bata in the subcontinent. So to think they left everything they had & fled to a new country twice to start fresh & build new always amazes me and yet it saddens me.