On November of each year the Sikh Nation (Sikh Quom) around the world reaches out and embraces the vision that all humans should live a safe and happy life. The Blood Donation Campaign led by the Sikhs represents a look to the past and a view to the future, coming together as humans around the world. In 1984, the Sikhs across India were the victims of aggression and targets of unprecedented attacks on innocent civilians. As a tribute to the events of 1984 and with the vision of bringing people together around the world, the Sikhs started the Blood Donation Campaign in 1999.
The first blood donation clinics took place in the lower mainland of British Columbia, Canada and has now grown to include clinics across Canada, the USA, Australia and other locations worldwide. The Sikh Blood Donation Campaign has saved more than 113,000 lives till December 2015. The Blood Donation Campaign is part of an effort to raise awareness of the events of 1984 and at the same time unite humanity. The Sikh Blood Donation Campaign expresses peace and invites people around the world to participate in this humanitarian campaign.
"On the morning of 1 November, when Indira Mata's body was brought to Teen Murti, everyone was watching television. Since 8 a.m. they had been showing the homage being paid to her dead body. At about noon, my children said: ‘Mother, please make some food. We are hungry.’ I had not cooked that day and I told them: ‘Son, everyone is mourning. She was our mother, too. She helped us to settle here. So I don't feel like lighting the fire today.’ Soon after this the attack started. Three of the men ran out and were set on fire. My youngest son stayed in the house with me. He shaved off his beard and cut his hair. But they came into the house. Those young boys, 14 and 16 years old, began to drag my son out even though he was hiding behind me. They tore my clothes and stripped me naked in front of my son. When these young boys began to rape me, my son began to cry and said: ‘Elder brothers, don't do this. She is like your mother just as she is my mother.’ But they raped me right there, in front of my son, in my house. They were young boys, maybe eight of them. When one of them raped me, I said: ‘My child, never mind. Do what you like. But remember, I have given birth to children. This child came into the world by this same path.’
After they had taken my honour, they left. I took my son out with me and made him sit among the women but they came and dragged him away. They took him to the street corner, hit him with lathis, sprinkled kerosene over him, and burnt him alive. I tried to save him but they struck me with knives and broke my arm. At that time, I was completely naked. I somehow managed to get hold of an old sheet which I had wrapped around myself. But that could easily be pulled away unless I held on tight to it with my arms. It inhibited my physical movements. If I had had even one piece of clothing on my body, I would have gone and thrown myself over my son and tried to save him. I would have done anything to save at least one young man of my family. Not one of the four is left. " - Gurdip Kaur, block 32 Trilokpuri
"There were six members in our family. The three men, my husband and my two brothers-in-law, were murdered. Now only three women are left. My husband was first beaten and then burnt to death. I was sitting and crying when a big group of men came and dragged me away. They took me to the nearby huts in front of block 32, and raped me. They tore off all my clothes. They bit and scratched me. They took me at 10 p.m. and released me at about 3 a.m. When I came back, I was absolutely naked, just as one is when one comes out of the mother’s womb." - Baby Bai, Trilokpuri
"All night, the attacks continued. My husband was hiding in a trunk. They dragged him out and cut him to pieces. Another 16-year-old boy was killed in front of my eyes. He was carrying a small child in his arms. They killed the child, too.
We women were forced to come out of our houses and sit in a group outside. I was trying to hide my daughter. I put a child in her lap and dishevelled her hair so that she would look older. But finally one of our own neighbours pointed her out to these men. They began to drag her away. We tried to save her. I pleaded with them.
They took Koshala to the old masjid. I don’t know what happened to her. At about 4 a.m., when we were driven out of the colony, she called out to me from the roof of the masjid. She was screaming to me: ‘Mummy, mujhe lechal, mujhe lechal, Mummy’[take me with you]. But how could Mummy take her? They beat her because she called to me. I don’t know where she is now." - Rajjo Bai, Trilokpuri