I sincerely hope that you will not consider my statement a sweeping one when I declare that we, the Muslims of subcontinen,t are basically a ‘spur of the moment’ people; suddenly we become enamoured with an impulse and then it becomes a matter of life and death for us.
Normally, we Pakistanis and Indians would like to cut each other’s throats. And now, suddenly, the “Crush India” and “Crush Pakistan” slogans are gone and we are embracing each other like long lost brothers wailing about our common culture and values, another, yet another spur of the moment movement which I am afraid is not going to last for long, it is too good to be true.
Kindly do not consider me to be a hawk; far from it, I abhor wars and vendettas and throughout my literary career I have supported the cause of normal and friendly relations with India, exchange of writers and artists, books and magazines, educational and scientific knowledge, a trade which does not hurt our industrial growth and most important of all, abolition of visa restrictions. When I used to express these sentiments I was dubbed as a doubtful Pakistani. And now, the same quarters are on the rooftops, crying hoarse for friendship between the two nations. Couldn’t we possibly for once adopt a sane and balanced approach; an approach, which withstands the test of time and does not fizzle out when the euphoria of the moment cools down?
The present India Pakistan friendship eruption is not the first time in the history. I remember that way back in I953 or 54 some hockey contests were arranged on both sides of the border. Lahore received thousands and thousands of Indian visitors who instead of going to the hockey matches roamed in Anarkali and the Mall road, with misty eyes remembering the good old bygone days. The impulsive Lahoris opened their homes and hearts to these Indian brothers and sisters; the tongawalas refused to accept any money from the visitors taking them around the city giving them free rides, there were signs on some of the restaurants that the Indians can have free soft drinks and so on.
Likewise, thousands of Pakistanis stormed Jullundher and Amritsar, most of them went straight to the cinemas and spent their entire stay watching Indian movies like Hemant Kumar’s musical hit Nagan; they came back almost half-blind. Then there was this shopping to be done, cotton cloth and winter suiting, because in those times the Pakistani textile industry had not taken off. People returned with huge turbans because unstitched cloth was not allowed into Pakistan. However, you cannot possibly stop a gentleman with a turban even if it measured forty yards! That was the first and perhaps the last time I wore a turban so huge that I almost broke my neck and crossed the border along with hundreds of other Pakistanis with similar turbans.
The Indians were no less hospitable, I remember a certain middle-class Hindu gentleman who upon my arrival on Amritsar railway station begged me to do the honour of staying in his humble abode. He almost snatched my suitcase from my hands. Needless to say that these brotherly feelings did not last long.
Another emotional drama was staged recently in the times of Nawaz Sharif when the then Indian Prime Minister Mr Vajpai visited Lahore. The PTV decided to telecast live the grand reception for Mr Vajpai on the Wagha Border as he arrived on a bus. I was entrusted the job of covering this event, live.
Prior to the transmission I was mobbed by the personnel of different agencies; foreign office, TV bigwigs advising me to use certain phrases while welcoming Mr Vajpai and to refrain from uttering certain other expressions. A certain gentleman from some uncertain agency handed me a list of expressions which were to be avoided completely and these included, ‘friendly relations between India and Pakistan’, ‘pleasant relations’, ‘mutual understanding’, ‘striving for peace’, ‘historical bonds’, ‘cultural affinities’, welcome on behalf of Pakistani nation’, etc.
“If I am not going to use any of these phrases then what am I going to talk about for one hour?” I asked the certain gentleman humbly.
“Well this is the policy Mr Tarar and you are the compare you should know what to say.”
“Then I will just say that dear viewers this dhoti clad gentleman you see on your screen is Mr Vajpai the Prime Minister of India; he has come to Pakistan, I hope you like his dhoti, thank you and goodbye.” The gentleman did not smile, he just glared at me and risking my TV career I glared back.
Then, to my good fortune, the Information Minister Mr Mushahid Hussain turned up and I narrated my woes to him and he was all smiles. “Tarar sahib, you can say what you want but try to project the vision of our PM as regards South Asia”.
“Which vision?” I was dumb founded.
“In short”, he laughed, “our baba should be on the top, and not their baba”. And I understood entirely because he was referring to a joke of two amorous babas which propriety forbids me to relate. The transmission at Wagha went very smoothly and all went well that day.
Presently everybody is busy making hay while the sun of Pakistan-India friendship shines. And believe it or not, it is a big business bonanza also. Not very long ago a gentleman from some NGO strolled into the Model Town Park and offered a free trip to India to all and sundry, only a valid passport and visa fee was required. Most of the babas, retired long ago from service and active life, accepted this offer gleefully and in a week dozens of these oldies were dispatched to India. When they came back they hesitated to discuss this free ride to India. However, a baba was kind enough to narrate his experience. “Tarar sahib, on the given date we made ourselves available on Lahore Railway Station and we were amazed to see that there were more than five hundred “Peace delegates” gathered there. Our passports, with visas duly stamped, were handed over to us and after a very tiring journey we reached Jullunder where we were lodged in a ramshackle school building that boasted a few toilets, without water. At meal times we were herded into a ground, where some charitable organization served us with dal roti. The next day, we were taken to a big peace rally where a local lady politician made a fiery speech in favour of India Pakistan friendship and we clapped heartily and that was the end of our visit to India.”
“But Babaji, who paid all the expenses of your journey, your stay in that school and those sumptuous meals?” I asked.
“Well I am not sure, but there was a rumour that this lady politician wanted to boost her political career by holding a peace rally in which thousands of Pakistanis will participate voluntarily, so some NGO arranged these peace activists and charged the lady in question.”
A few months back I had the opportunity to participate in the Saarc Writers’ Conference in New Delhi and most of the Indian writers and intellectuals sincerely desired a normalization of relations between our countries. But writers and intellectuals can only dream and they do not have the political leverage to decide the fate of nations, the decision makers are the leaders who represent the masses and the masses on both sides have been fed on hatred for so long that there minds have been poisoned. This poison can only be extracted by constant efforts and not by impulsive behaviour. Let us purge our history and syllabus books of Hindu hatred. Let us know India better by including their history and geography in our school books. Let us refrain from using phrases like “Bharti Darinde” “Mukkar Baniya” or “Chalak Hindu” etc. During my sojourn to Syria, I found that bookshops were stacked with Israeli magazines and books. Amazed I asked a Syrian friend, “Israel is a sworn enemy of yours and you read their books and magazines!”
“If you know your enemy better, you fight better and if you want to be friends even then you should know him better by reading what he is writing,” he replied philosophically.
So first of all, let it not be a spur of the moment thing and know India better and this cannot be a one-sided affair, India has to know us better also.
I sincerely hope that you will not consider my statement a sweeping one when I declare that we, the Muslims of subcontinen,t are basically a ‘spur of the moment’ people; suddenly we become enamoured with an impulse and then it becomes a matter of life and death for us.
