Ajoka has frequently performed plays on Partition. Never having experienced it myself, I always wondered why we remain obsessed with this particular historical event. Why not focus ahead, on other themes? What is the use of re-visiting something that happened decades ago? However, sometimes you can only understand the present if you understand the past, lest history repeats itself. As a kid, I attended yet another workshop in Amritsar, which involved children from Ajoka Children’s Theatre (ACT) and Indian children from the Springdale school, Manch Rang Manch and other Theatre groups. I remember the performance was to be held at the Punjab Naatshala at the culmination of the workshop. A small, intimate space, the hall not only allowed the actors to bond with the audience, but the hostel rooms within the premises where we have frequently stayed, allowed actors from both countries to get together as well. Sharing the same food, the same rooms, sometimes even the same clothes, allowed us to bond like brothers and sisters. This chemistry transferred onto the stage as well. The play to be performed was on Partition, developed through our own improvisations on different real life stories. Over a period of time, we had learnt to experience what those people had gone through, what they felt. They had become our friends, a part of us. Their stories tore through our souls, and healed them at the same time. Stories of injustice, massacres, hatred, but also stories of love, courage, determination. Of Sikhs and Hindus saving Muslims, and Muslims saving Sikhs and Hindus. 30 minutes before the performance, after the usual meditation exercise, we were asked to delve deep into those experiences, imagining their faces and their stories. We wore the shoes of each character we were assigned, and when I opened my eyes, all I could see was tears on all of my friend’s faces. The girls were sobbing hysterically while the boys struggled to hold back their tears. All of us broke down, hugging and kissing each other. 10 minutes before the performance, we regained our composure. We were ready. We’ve held many festivals in India. Even during times of serious cross-border tension, Ajoka used to cross the border with a message of peace In New Delhi, our family was the closest to Pawa Saab, a loving Sikh man with a loving family. Whenever my mother and I would go visit, we would always stay at their small but cosy apartment. I loved the cold coffee they used to make for me every morning, and since I was not allowed to have coffee, loved it. I also loved spending time with his son, nieces and nephews, and his loving and caring wife. He would show us all around, taking us to my favourite cinema near his office in Connaught place in his black Ambassador. I was particularly fond of and curious about the gear being located right next to the steering wheel. We’ve held many festivals in India. Even during times of serious cross-border tension, Ajoka used to cross the border with a message of peace, showing the people that it is only the governments on both sides, not the people, who are responsible for the hate. Both sides frequently need to be reminded of that. The hate people gained from mainstream media melted away when they saw our performances. Our famous and world renowned play Bullha, was about the life and times of Bulleh Shah, his life and his struggle. He fought against the religious intolerance of his time, and was eventually not allowed a place of burial inside the city of Kasur. But his love and struggle for the people was such that eventually the entire city moved and settled around his tomb. However, one particular incident springs to mind. Right before one of our performances started, some Shiv Sena activists barged in, faces covered. They gave us a letter for us to give to the government of Pakistan. We told them we have nothing to do with them, but they insisted. We took the letter, and nevertheless asked them to at least stay for the performance since they have come. At the end of the play, the leader of the group, took off the black cloth covering his face, came up on stage, and shook hands with everybody with both hands, praising our work. Recently we stayed at the Islamic Centre in New Delhi, right next to the UN centre and a beautiful and historical park. The park was full of old Mughal architecture, remnants of an era bygone. You could almost feel the memories as you touched the stones of the fort. I imagined the bridges in their prime, with moats dug all around. A time of princes, princesses, queens and kings, it was a strange feeling watching people jogging in Nike shoes around these ancient monuments. I remember going about in rickshaws with my mother, finding the best artefacts, from Buddha statues to Krishna. In Dharam shala, I enjoyed eating delicious momos, a Tibetan delicacy. My mother would take me to all the temples, all the retreats, enjoying the beautiful and spectacular scenery with me. It was a very peaceful place, with a special energy around it. Full of Hippies and monks, everyone was out discovering the world in their own way. I always like to break the rules however, so never joined one of the meditation retreats, although I loved the monkeys there. From a kid who used to live on Limcas and Magic Masalas, I switched to margaritas and tequila, thoroughly enjoying the night life. In one instance, in Chandigarh, I was trying to enter a club near the team’s hotel. I played the best card I had, I am a Pakistani! With some prodding, they requested me to bring my passport, and let me in, with me feeling like a star. I didn’t know anyone there, but as soon as one girl found out I was a Pakistani, she agreed to dance! Sadly, I couldn’t get her number. Having its share of problems, India too has a strong debate going on. I remember at my last trip, PDA (Public Displays of Affection) had been officially banned. There was an uproar. What role does the state have in deciding who can hold whose hand? But the people themselves elected the government, and they must bear with it I suppose. You reap what you sow. But there are strong, united voices as well. At our recent festival In Delhi, the hall was filled with people who not only understood world class theatre, it was also filled with police and army official, diplomats, judges and civil servants. The hall was resounding with applause and standing ovations, something unheard of for Delhi’s strictly ‘proper’ audience. This told us that one should always remain an optimist. I have been blessed with the opportunity to travel to India with my biological and Ajoka families. I have experienced only love and affection. From travelling with my parents to wondering alone in the streets, it is strange how the biggest rivalries all over the world, are always between those who were once brothers and sisters. The love I have experienced there gives me hope, both for my country, and this region. The writer is a director/actor; and a core member of Ajoka Theatre Pakistan. He has been involved in spreading awareness on socio-political issues through theatre Published in Daily Times, May 5th 2018.