When Mr Jinnah contemplated the new country he had been pivotal in creating 55 years ago, he did not sell his property in India as he could not visualize a future in which travel between the two neighbours would become extremely difficult.

The mass killings and the vast migration that accompanied partition on both sides of the border must have been a heavy weight on his conscience.

He could not have foreseen the bloody consequences of the division of the subcontinent. Indeed, being a rational and secular person, he probably did not fathom the capacity for hatred and violence concealed in so many human hearts.

Gandhi, a leader of an altogether different mould, went on hunger strike to protest against the Congress government's delaying tactics in transferring Pakistan's share of the divisible cash resources, and as a result, he was assassinated by a Hindu fanatic.

Many people who fled the violence in both countries left their property and possessions in the expectation that they would be able to return to their homes once the madness had faded. Indians and Pakistanis of that generation still speak nostalgically of growing up in cities that have suddenly become enemy territory. But despite the magnitude of their loss, they are not bitter about their old friends and neighbours; indeed, they retain nothing but fond memories of their childhood. Their anger is focused on the leadership of both countries that have made travel between the two such a nightmare.

Despite the political gulf that opened up with partition and the still-festering Kashmir dispute that erupted immediately afterwards, the cultural and personal affinities between the two countries remained largely intact for some time. Until the 1965 war, travel was relatively simple and people thought little of going across the border to attend a wedding or watch a Test match.

In short, the slogans and shrill rhetoric that emanated from the leaders and propaganda machines had not infected the minds of ordinary citizens who continued to make a distinction between politicians and people. In short, the demonization of the two countries had not yet begun in the popular imagination.

During the 1965 war that began in Kashmir (where else?), pilots of both air forces took great care to avoid civilian targets. Similarly, artillery fire was directed at military targets only, and the little activity that the two navies were engaged in did not include commercial shipping. Although the propaganda war was probably more fierce than actual combat, most Pakistanis did not consider ordinary Indians to be their enemies.

Meeting Indians after the war, one did not get the impression that they felt any differently. Officers from the opposing armies who met after the end of hostilities did not harbour any personal animosity either.

Although the 1971 war evoked far greater bitterness, it was largely confined to the eastern theatre. In West Pakistan, the fighting was more of a defensive nature. But despite the air superiority the Indian air force enjoyed over Pakistani skies, it did not engage in deliberate attacks on civilian targets. I was in Lahore then and remember watching an Indian jet attacking the radar installation at the old airfield in Gulberg (which, incidentally has been taken over by our air force for officers' housing colony). Despite the target being close to so many private residences, I do not recall any reports of civilian casualties.

It was in the seventies that travel became more and more difficult. An entire generation of Pakistanis and Indians grew up with no personal knowledge of each other, their minds poisoned by jingoistic textbooks and official propaganda. More and more young people on both sides of the border began to harbour a personal animus without really knowing very much of the cultural ties that still existed. Even though Pakistanis watched (and continue to watch) Bollywood blockbusters and Indians were enthralled by Pakistani TV soap operas, the gulf between the two countries grew. Popular music, cricket and hockey supplied just about the only glue to the relationship.

Over 30 years have passed since the 1971 war, and apart from Kargil, we have not engaged in any major conflicts. But Kargil was a watershed in many ways. For the first time, there were allegations of uncivilized conduct when infiltrators from this side were accused of having mutilated the bodies of Indian soldiers.

Right or wrong, ordinary Indians were shocked and outraged that the peace moves initiated by their government had been answered by an act of perceived aggression. Being mostly unaware of the hold the military has on decision-making even when a civilian is nominally in power, they saw the infiltration as an act of treachery. More than that, they became convinced for the first time that Pakistan was not interested in peace.

Coming as it did after a decade of escalating violence in Kashmir, for many Indians, Kargil was the proverbial last straw. A hit movie was soon churned out showing Pakistanis as brutal killers; a computer game carried the same message. On our side, the official media and many private newspapers spared no effort in showing Indians in the same light.

Similarly, when General Musharraf travelled to Agra last year, many of us in Pakistan wished him to succeed, and were bitterly disappointed when the talks were broken off when they seemed so close to success. The general perception was that the hawks in India had succeeded in derailing the negotiations just when there was promise of a breakthrough.

Whatever the reality, the fact is that relations between the two nations have never been worse. Despite the economic, cultural and geographic imperatives, we are further away from normality than ever before. Whenever I have written about the urgent need for peace, I have been tauntingly reminded of Kargil by Indian readers who have also gratuitously informed me that their country is far ahead of Pakistan and does not need us. Several of them gloatingly sent me reports of the successful visit of Microsoft's Bill Gates to India. Pakistani detractors, on the other hand, go on at length about the rights and wrongs of the Kashmir issue and advise me to return to India if I am unhappy about the state of affairs in Pakistan.

Irrespective of whose fault it is, the fact is that we have succeeded in partitioning the subcontinent far more thoroughly than was originally visualized for we have achieved a division of a shared culture and a shared past.