Know thy neighbour!

Actor-turned-politician Ramya after attending a conference organised by SAARC in Islamabad made a random comment – “Pakistan is not a ‘hell’ and people there are just like us. They treated us very well,” and in her words – ‘all hell broke loose’. She was not just a butt of ridicule on social media, but a case was also filed against her for sedition.

And among other things that she laments including the manipulation of certain groups to curtail freedom of speech; she also says it’s imperative to relook at the sedition law, which is too broad and prone to misuse or even do away with the law as a proper democracy.

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Kannada actress Ramya made headlines in India and across the border for her comment “Pakistan is not hell” that took a controversial turn and a private case of sedition is filed against her. Why is it difficult to accept that the neighbouring country can be a beautiful place, and the people can be warm and friendly too? It is high time people on both sides got to know each better, and the borders opened to exchange of culture, literature, music, sports, a tradition that is increasingly mired in suspicion stoked by vested interests

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The issue brought back memories of my trip to Pakistan in 2013. As a journalist, it is difficult to get a Visa to Pakistan for obvious reasons, and here I did not even have a passport. And when my editor called and asked me – Would you like to go to Lahore for a visit; I said – of course, I would love to. And why not?

Lahore takes me back to the stories of Saadat Hassan Manto and Ismat Chugtai. The much-acclaimed writer of modern India Manto was devastated with the partition of India. It is said that he was in Bombay when Pakistan formed, and for Manto, a Muslim, who grew up in Lahore, until then one with Amritsar, and considered the holiest city of Sikhism, and who had made Bombay his adopted city, and who had many Hindu friends – it almost seemed unreal.

However, circumstances, growing religious intolerance at the time in Bombay forced him to flee India (According to writer, columnist, Ali Sethi - Manto, suddenly a Muslim among Hindus, panicked. He “stopped going to Bombay Talkies.” He “began to drink heavily” and “all day long” would “lie on [his] sofa in a sort of daze. But once in Lahore, now Pakistan, Manto was inconsolable. “Despite my best efforts,” he wrote, “I could not dissociate India from Pakistan and Pakistan from India.” Manto was in Lahore where he died a sad man.

Lahore takes me to the famous play – and the legendary line “Jine Lahore nai vekhya o jamya-e-ni” (if you have not seen Lahore you have not lived), and Ismat Chugtai, who was charged with obscenity for her story ‘Lihaaf’ by the British Crown and summoned to a court in Lahore. She writes in detail about her experience of the first hearing that included a not so earth shattering court episode and a lot of fun that included shopping accosted by her good friend Manto. She wrote, “Lahore was beautiful, lush and lively. It greeted everyone with open arms.

It was a city of people who were amiable and who loved life. It was the heart of Punjab. We made the rounds of Anarkali and Shalimar and saw Noor Jahan’s mausoleum. Then followed endless rounds of invitations, mushairas and gossip. And suddenly, my heart sent up a thanksgiving prayer to the Crown of England for providing us with this unique opportunity of enjoying ourselves in Lahore. I began to look forward eagerly to the second hearing.

I did not even care if the verdict was that I be hanged. If it occurred in Lahore, I would certainly achieve the status of a martyr. The people of Lahore would give me a befitting funeral.” On a lighter note, the feisty, brave writer, had she been alive, would have faced sedition charges and would have been asked to leave India and go to Pakistan for her good words about the neighbouring country.

Lahore is a city that I was totally fascinated with after all that I read – stories of love, of emperors and shared history, of freedom fighters and horrors of the partition that it holds with it. So, amidst apprehensions from my mother, who couldn’t fathom the reason why of all places on earth, I chose Pakistan to visit; I got my passport done and had the requisite Visa stamping done too, and was off to attend the eighth conference of South Asian Free Media Association (SAFMA) themed 'A South Asian Vision and Union: Opening Minds and Opening Borders' that had 200 media delegates attending from South Asian countries – India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Nepal and Afghanistan...). The conference was held at Amritsar and Lahore.

It was in winter and both Amritsar and Lahore were reeling under near zero temperatures, much alien to the South Indian in me, but nothing would dampen my spirits. And it is as well that we got to stay in Amritsar for a while. We braved the night temperature to walk through the evening market, enjoyed the hot and spicy street food that Amritsar is so famous for, and reveled in the spiritual splendour of the Golden temple, saluted to the sacrifice of the thousands killed at Jallianwala Bagh, before heading to Lahore via the Wagah border on a bus. And the experience was euphoric; here is a piece of land that like an estranged cousin stands apart, but yet feels so familiar. I felt elated to be a part of the peace mission – and as Mother Teresa said, “It may be a drop in the ocean, but the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.”

And the first impression was – Wow! Lahore and Amritsar are so similar. Security personnel escorted us to the plush Pearl Continental hotel, where we attended seminar after seminar, and much was discussed on the media and its role in opening the borders. We had Salman Khurshid, Nawaz Sharif, who was not the Prime Minister of Pakistan then, among others attended the conference and spoke of the importance of SAFMA and the need for dialogue (rhetoric but always sounds good when you hear it).

Meanwhile, we were getting to know our Pakistani counterparts, and some of them offered to take us to shopping at the famous Anarkali market. And the sooner we managed to step out, we hopped into a big auto conversing with the auto driver non-stop. This we did despite the warning by one of the senior journalists from ‘Dawn’, who told us not to reveal who we were - you never know if these guys belong to any terror organisation, better to be safe and not reveal much, she said.

Her warning was not heeded, but then she was from mainland – Karachi, and Lahore didn’t seem so bad; but we did realise that the country was indeed affected by terrorism with the many outfits that have sprung up from nowhere disturbing peace from time to time. The visit to the market – one of the oldest in the city – a whirlwind tour of all the garment shops where one bought loads of clothes, the occasional breaks for the Kahwa (the traditional pink tea) was made memorable by a many interesting experiences.

There was one lady – a fellow shopper who wanted to know if we were from India – the bindi was a giveaway. “Yes, from Hyderabad,” I answered. “Oh! Hyderabad Deccan!” she exclaimed and talked about a few relatives, who are from here and we hit it off well. The shopkeeper, who overheard the conversation, invited us in, made us sit and was only too happy to have us visit his store, despite we not buying anything. A passerby stopped and greeted us with a Namaste.

By the way, we were even advised that we remove our bindi so that we are safer in the alien place – now why would we want to do that and miss all the special treatment, discounts included? Moreover, not once did we feel alienated. Yet another thing about Pakistan that struck me was that the women were so beautiful and stylish wearing those long and exquisite linen kurtas, and definitely gritty and courageous, and sharing the same issues and discrimination that women in media in India face. Nothing much different here too!

Another interesting facet I learnt was that like in India, Pakistan’s children too are fed with history, much of it twisted, and a lot of shared history conveniently ignored, and for obvious reasons, ask any kid in the country who their enemy is – they say India. In spite of a habitual hatred for thy neighbour; Pakistanis, in general, came across as friendly people, just like us, and peace loving in general and who hold a lot of misconceptions about India – and evidently no one makes an effort to clear their doubts.

Coming back to the Lahore, all I could manage to see were the beautiful Lahore Fort, the Shalimar gardens, poet Iqbal’s mausoleum, the adjoining Huzuri Bagh Baradari amidst the meetings and dinners hosted by the Prime Minister and the President. We were also treated to wonderful music by seasoned (traditional/Classical) musicians, who, again like in India, were otherwise ignored by the government.

Throughout the trip, the positive vibe was infectious and gave rise to a budding hope of better days and a happy world of co-existence. Some of my new friends took me to meet Mian Muhammad Shehbaz Sharif, Punjab province’s longest standing chief minister, and younger brother to Pak PM Nawaz Sharif, and I took the opportunity to congratulate him on all the development work that I saw happening in Lahore – flyovers, wide roads et al, and he looked happy to know that we were impressed.

The near impossible dynamics of politics notwithstanding, here were a huge group of journalists who had the capability of communicating to masses through written word, out there interacting with each other, trying to understand and co-exist with their neighbours. We met the courageous women journalists from Afghanistan that was just coming out of the Taliban shadow; we met some amazing people from Sri Lanka, Nepal and the much discussed Pakistan, and learnt that here were similar individuals who were in the same profession, grappling with the same challenges of the modern world, and just happen to be in another country, and hence different situations to deal with. And when we bade goodbye to each other we took back respect for each other and a sense of reality that would surely reflect in the way we would report each other in our daily news.

In hind thought, it isn’t so bad to know thy neighbour, which is when you will know that he is not so bad after all – and that may as well be the first step towards loving your neighbour. And to all the people who find offence in any good word shared about Pakistan – Maybe a visit would serve them well too. After all, how can you hate without even knowing whom you hate – and this goes for the people of both India and Pakistan, which is a good enough reason to open the borders to each other – through culture, literature, music, education, sports…politics can take a hike.