Recently as I sipped the steaming tea from the steel glass at a friend's house our chitchat diverted to partition of India and Pakistan in 1947. It traversed through the movies made on the horrifying historical event to personal stories to the troubled Indo-Pak relationship.
While we discussed the relationship between these two estranged siblings that were born out of the same womb, I shared my reminiscences of Wagah border, the international checkpoint in Amritsar, Punjab, a Northern Indian state. I traveled back in time to paint the picture of the flag lowering ceremony at this border which is nothing more than iron gate, one that is identical to entrances of many Indian household.
The ceremony was marked with display of patriotic spirit and din of trumpets. As the sun bid its adieu, a silence pervaded in the arena where the crowd sat glued to see the ceremony that epitomized friendship and veneration. One could see the Indian "Border Security Forces," soldiers dressed in khaki and Pakistani "Rangers," dressed in black march passionately toward the gate and wave their swords to the tunes of music ebbing from the military band. The tapping sounds from their boots were audible even at a distance.
As the gates flung open the flags of both countries were lowered with great respect and honor. The soldiers then retreated to their respective sides and the gates were slammed shut; the sounds of trumpets doused out and the crowd turned its back on each other to walk home.
As we strolled back to our car I was left with a mixed feeling. While I was awe-struck with the spectacular scene it seemed more like a ritual rather than a feeling from heart. I can vividly remember the verbal skirmish the crowd engaged in as they shouted the slogans of Pakistan Zindabad and Hindustan Zindabad. And though people on both sides appeared as each other's reflection (given the fact that people look similar and have a similar culture) they have always remained antipodal to one another.
Though it’s been five years since I visited the mighty border that has witnessed some of the most horrifying and important political developments in the history of these countries I still wonder if the fissures in heart and mind of the people can ever be cemented.
While we discussed the relationship between these two estranged siblings that were born out of the same womb, I shared my reminiscences of Wagah border, the international checkpoint in Amritsar, Punjab, a Northern Indian state. I traveled back in time to paint the picture of the flag lowering ceremony at this border which is nothing more than iron gate, one that is identical to entrances of many Indian household.
The ceremony was marked with display of patriotic spirit and din of trumpets. As the sun bid its adieu, a silence pervaded in the arena where the crowd sat glued to see the ceremony that epitomized friendship and veneration. One could see the Indian "Border Security Forces," soldiers dressed in khaki and Pakistani "Rangers," dressed in black march passionately toward the gate and wave their swords to the tunes of music ebbing from the military band. The tapping sounds from their boots were audible even at a distance.
As the gates flung open the flags of both countries were lowered with great respect and honor. The soldiers then retreated to their respective sides and the gates were slammed shut; the sounds of trumpets doused out and the crowd turned its back on each other to walk home.
As we strolled back to our car I was left with a mixed feeling. While I was awe-struck with the spectacular scene it seemed more like a ritual rather than a feeling from heart. I can vividly remember the verbal skirmish the crowd engaged in as they shouted the slogans of Pakistan Zindabad and Hindustan Zindabad. And though people on both sides appeared as each other's reflection (given the fact that people look similar and have a similar culture) they have always remained antipodal to one another.
Though it’s been five years since I visited the mighty border that has witnessed some of the most horrifying and important political developments in the history of these countries I still wonder if the fissures in heart and mind of the people can ever be cemented.
