Crossing Wagah 'on foot'

Its not everyday that one gets a chance to cross Wagah and that too on foot.

Well… I was fortunate enough to get an ‘on foot’ visa from the Pakistan High Commission and actually cross Wagah on foot.

I was with a grouop of students and a teacher.

Just as we reached the immigration counters on the Indian side of Wagah (which is actually called Attari)…we were told that we couldn’t cross the border on foot. The reason given to us was that we need to have special permission from the Ministry of External affairs to do so. The man at the counter actually showed us a copy of such letters from people who had crossed the border before. The letter was actually issued by the Indian High Commission at Islamabad requesting the immigration authorities to allow a person to cross on foot.

He said that he had no problems in allowing us to cross the border on bus. But then the Pakistan immigration would have stopped us saying that ‘ we were supposed to arrive on foot’. We were in a fix and getting a letter issued from a government authority is quite a pain in India.

Nevertheless, as mobile phones don’t work at Wagah (except Vodafone…as some say) and neither are there international or ISD phone booths at Wagah…I had to actually hire a taxi go back 4-5 kilometres to the place where my mobile started working. Then I had to make quite a few calls for the Indian High Commission to fax a letter to the Wagah check post. But let me say that the High Commission authorities were very cooperative and helped us out.

So, we were back again at Wagah at the same immigration counter with the same man…who now smiled at us.

Immigration: We had to fill up the standard Indian immigration form. But the fun part was filling up the ‘flight no.’ column. We had to write ‘on foot’ on it.

Customs: The immigration guys give you a slip, where the number of bags need to be filled up. This needs to be submitted to the customs. They scan your luggage and may want to manually check your baggage…ask a few questions…and you are on your way to the border. At Wagah its about half a kilometer walk from the customs to the border. Once you reach the border gate…the BSF people note down the passport details of the people who cross the border. And then you are right at the Indo-Pak gate

At the gate is a sentry from BSF…who checks your passports and just a metre away is the Pakistani sentry from the Rangers…who again checks your passports.

There is a line in between the two gates…which perhaps forms the border and the porter from the Indian side puts the luggage right on the line…from where the porter from the Pakistani side can pick it up.

Its just the reverse on the Pakistani side…first the entry with the rangers and then immigration and customs…and you are bang at Wagah on the other side.

The Pakistani immigration counters are much much better than the Indian side. While the Indian immigration counters give a feel of a railway station…the feeling on the Pakistani side is truly international…its like an international airport.

The Pakistani immigration counters even click photographs of people entering the country.

The walk is about a kilometer and a half…but its joy.

Manto ka Kauwa

Had read Manto's short story 'Manto ka Kutta' long time back. That was my first Manto read and I was damn impressed by his writing. Havent read much of him though.

Also, had heard a lot about the evening flag ceremony at Wagah Border a lot. My brother had told me that you must see the parade at least once.
So, when I visited Amritsar and had some time at my disposal...arranged for going for the Wagah ceremony. Had arranged for some up close seats near the gate but due to some miscommunication...we couldnt get those seats and had to see the ceremony along with hundreds of others. (actually glad that we didnt get thos 'VIP' seats)

What a crowd man...people from all parts of India...Marathis, Biharis, Tamils...everyone...armed with cameras and water bottles (Its damn hot in Amritsar). Everyone seemed to have reached much in advance...but there was no clue of any ceremony. The main gate was closed. Suddenly some songs started playing in the loud speakers..."Suno Gaur se duniya walo". There was a loud cheer in the crowd. People started chanting "Bharat Mata ki ....Jai". A gentleman came with a mike and starting prompting the audience to shout slogans aka "Vande..." and then the crowd was supposed to say "Mataram". He seemed to be a professional in what he was doing.

Initially...I also got charged with emotions of patriotism as some soldiers marched towards the gate. But soon...I got back to my nerves...and everthing seemed to be a tamaasha.

After that I dont want to describe...how things followed after that...people in the crowd were instigated to shout towards the Pakistani side...to make them hear....for them to understand that we are more in number and loudness.

After some reading...i was able to make out that the person, who was instigating the crowd was also from the Border Security Force, I suppose. A uniformed person (he was in civil dress at that time) instigating the crowd.

Moreover...the face off between Indian and Pakistani border guards just pissed me off. I mean...it felt like a bull fight wiht people instigating and the guards stomping their feet. All tamaasha....unneccessary dramatisation of a ritual...it seemed.

there was similar drama happening on the other side I suppose. I could see people shouting on the other side as well...but couldnt hear them as the entire game of the evening is not to let the other side make noise....so you keep shouting....thats it.

In no time...I was cucooned in a circle of my own in this massive crowd shouting pro-India slogans. In fact...may be for a while I couldnt even hear what they were shouting...it was just silence amidst noise. ...and I noticed one Crow sitting on the building of the Border security force fo India quickly take a flight and just glide towards a wall on the Pakistani side. Pure bliss...In a moment the crow...reminded me of the futility of the ceremony...happening. The border is just for humans not for these crows or some other creatures. I am sure that crow must be crossing the border plenty of times without a visa.

I wish I was a crow....I thought....and I was back in the crowd...

I dont know why it takes so long to pull down a flag...it should be a 5 minute thing. But solidiers keep marching from here to there to prove...I dont know what.

Later...when the ceremony finished...I joined the gang which gathers at the gate to look at the other side. To see how people 'look' on the other side. And they are shooed away later.

I was also curious to know ...how the other side looks like.

All people had left and all I could see was pet water bottles everywhere. Hundreds of patriots...who shouted patriotic slogans for more than an hour...left that place with hundreds of bottles, biscuit and chips wrappers. It hurt me a lot.

I didnt know...how to react...after all i was all enthusiastic about coming and seeing that ceremony.

The sun was setting and there were still as couple of people who had come out of that space but were looking at a clearning where you could see the Pakistani fence. There were such enthusiasts on the other side as well.

And I came back thinking about the crow...which flew across the border....'Manto ka kauwa' ...I would call that crow.

And...for once I wished...this tamaasha needs to stop...before any other peace initiative between the countries. Because not only is it a tamaasha...but it is a full fledged training programme in spreading hatred about Pakistanis to one and all.

May this tamaasha stop.

The title of this post is inspired from Manto's famous story 'Tetval ka kutta' which I remember as 'Manto ka kutta'

My first experience with a Pakistani

I guess I must have been in University...went to the famous World Book Fair...which is a ritual in Delhi. That year...there was a stall put up by Pakistan.
I was curious as to what must be selling there and went to have a look at that stall. There were many people...just looking at the books in Urdu and English. There were a couple of people (whom I were judging...whether they are Pakistani or Indian) manning the stall.
And these people started speaking in Punjabi. I belong to the hills of Himachal in India and understand Punjabi and also speak Punjabi.
"Yaar tere kol sau rupey de khule haige" question one man. (Hey fellow! Would you have change of Rs 100). "Main ta ithe da ek tella bhi ni rakhya" replied the other (I dont have a penny of this place). And I was just shocked...they (read Pakistanis) speak just like us.

As Indians, you generally dont think about Pakistanis...even if you think...you think of them as just 'enemies' or people on the other side of the fence (others...different from us). But here I was standing with Pakistanis who were speaking like anyone else in Jallandhar....then why are they the 'others'

While in Delhi there are many Pakistani scholars visiting the city but this was actually my first interaction. I have met many ever since...and have come a long way...long long way.

humans

Was just standing on the balcony of my apartment in Delhi …looking at the balcony of another apartment across the fence. A lady just came out and took away the clothes from her balcony. And I thought…the people who are in the Ministry of interior in Pakistan must also be simple people, who live in some Apartment in Islamabad…leading similar lives with worries about their kids, parking and all. They must also be having daal chawal or korma for dinner. Normal people, who have the control over my visa.

Wonder…how these normal people who know all the problems of daily lives become people who are demons…for people like me who are seeking visa.

May be…our request for a NOC from the Ministry of Interior will be rejected…or accepted.

But that’s what life is about.