“Jab se paida hua hoon Kashmir main yeh hua, Kashmir main woh hua; yehi sunta aaya hoon” (I have been hearing about Kashmir and the things that happen there since the time I was born) said the 65-year-old man before changing the channel to something more brain stimulating for him. Kashmir was no longer an issue that evoked passion within him; over the years he had simply become desensitised to it. “Forget about experiencing any peace between India and Pakistan in our lifetimes,” he concluded and concentrated hard on the Amitabh Bachan movie playing on television — it was time for nostalgia.
Kashmir has somehow been reduced to an ego issue between the hyper-nationalists of both nations. The main aim seems to be about its acquisition and not necessarily the issues that worry its inhabitants. Yet the big K word is a bone of contention between the two nuclear nations and the visa woes that the general public faces is majorly due to this unresolved issue. Security clearances are sought when an application for visa is made, the wait time can be between months and never happening. If the visa is turned down and one happens to be a celebrity like Anupam Kher, the idea of holding a press conference to gain political capital becomes appealing. The rest of the populace mostly heads home without an approval on their passports.
The never ending Indo-Pak peace process and dialogue can be seen from space, just like the great wall of China, but in this case it appears as a slow moving train that starts and stops and starts again but gets nowhere. One wonders what actually happens when the foreign ministers of these two countries meet besides the usual photo opportunity. I think they end up discussing shopping lists their family hands them over to fulfill from the ‘dushman mulk’ (enemy country). Fortunately, affection for the lovely lawn and the scintillating banarsi saris never got hit by the hatred that consumed our people.
The reluctant visa policy and the tyrannical bureaucracy (where both countries compete for the worst functioning embassy award) have kept people from mingling freely with each other. We perceive the other as a bhoot (demon): unknown, unseen and a thing to be loathed. This second and third generation of people, who grew up on bloody stories of the partition, of Hindu-Muslim fasaad (conflict) has been smartly kept engaged in the loop of history, which reads differently on both sides.
Before the introduction of the internet in our lives, folks travelled to new countries with an open mind to get the taste of a different culture and refreshing sights. They often returned having fallen in love with the place and its people. Not anymore. The need to Google places and read up on its history to pre-decide whether to ever set foot on that soil has damaged the idea of free style expedition. In the case of Indians and Pakistanis, the can of worms has been left open and hardly any healing has taken place.
At no point in these 68 years was there a period when the general public viewed each other as living in a place of touristic exploration. Most people who showed interest in visiting India have been Urdu-speaking folks or the Punjabis. Mohajirs have an emotional connect with India where many of their relatives still reside. To leave or not to leave was a question that daunted many Muslims living under the British Raj. Often families became split over ideologies and hence this interest in visiting India.
Punjabis here share a lingual and cultural root with their counterparts in India. In fact, most Punjabis residing in New Delhi are progenies of refugees who came from our part of Punjab. Elders reminisce about Lahore, Multan, Gujranwala etc. with tears in their eyes. But it is the offspring who are confused about how to make sense of the tears and process them along with the stories of a “train full of dead bodies sent across as a message”, leading to 1947.
Beyond these two communities other regions see India and Pakistan (depending on where one is) with cold indifference. A travel enthusiast in Nagpur, Maharashtra is less likely to be thrilled about visiting Nathia Galli and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. Pakistanis increasingly have an image of India as a country and culture that
promotes rape, not realising how safe it is for a female to travel alone at night in Mumbai. There is a lack of understanding about South India and its diversity; the backwaters of Kerala or even the ghats of Varanasi are sights that can be devoured, at least virtually. It is about inculcating an interest beyond the dictates of the present establishment or our own limited understanding of a place untouched by us.
Sadly, the narrative about Pakistan and Muslims has become murkier in India also; Mughals are regarded as plunderers only and the destruction of the Somnath temple hundreds of years ago still agitates their saffron brigade. This underbelly of hatred can be softened if we let people be, if we let that Pakistani Virat Kohli fan celebrate his idol’s victory, if we see that the Taj Mahal generates huge revenue and dismiss all conspiracy theories about its construction.
Both sides are getting to know each other vicariously only; most use social media to ignite hatred but there are a few avenues such as the love for Urdu poetry where the padosi (neighbor) has struck a chord with his neighbour. Touristic appeal, wanting to taste a new cuisine or learn a new regional language will only add feathers to one’s personality. One should not hesitate in saying that India is at the top of their bucket list as a country to visit. Or vice versa. There is a lot of shared culture but also both nations have developed differently since then and that should evoke passion in the people. Go where governments fear you from going, save pictures of landscapes of the dushman desh (enemy country) that appeal to your senses.
After six decades it should not be that hard to say “I love India” in Pakistan.
The writer is a freelance columnist with a degree in Cultural Studies and a passion for social observation, especially all things South Asian. She tweets @chainacoffeemug