Trip to Pakistan

I was told, we are going to Pakistan, it was time to pack our bags and go on a 3-day trip.

First trip to Pakistan, and there we were, me and Rashi, my wife.

It was a small trip and our first one too, by the time we reached there it was around 3 pm, so we rushed and checked into our hotel and before anything else, we immediately checked out to visit the nearby market, too much curiosity how people are and how people will treat me was running in my mind, and shopping for the authentic Pakistani suits, jewellery, local craft and spices on my wives, mind. 

The trip was really small and we had plans to pack so many things in the three days, so we did not want to waste any time, we were not having any local support, any friend even a travel agent by our side, we are all by ourselves and I knew from tomorrow I will be busy, very busy so these moments for self may not be there.

I had heard a lot about Pakistani hospitality, (I had heard it from my Uncles and other seniors in my family, especially when they were to compare how cold the new world is becoming, lacking the warmth of old times)

I would like to tell you that both my grandparents ( I mean paternal & maternal) side migrated to the Indian side at the time of partition and settled straight away in the City culture, my father joined Indian Air Force and we grew up in true Indian diversity. As I would listen to the summer vacation stories of my friends and classmates, I always had this strong urge of having my own village, where we could go and be pampered, showered by loads of simple goodies! 

So this trip to Pakistan was special, It had two strong reasons 1st finding my roots (sort of where my grandparents lived? and How their life could have been? How has the palace become now? and Do they still speak the same dialect? 

And the other reason? 

I was seeking my childhood village life moments ... Maybe I get one moment of that connection from the strangers there, almost enemies... no Nah! Let me not think that way!

So we were there in that market. Almost at twilight, it seemed time had stopped for a long time and we were shopping for footwear, local handcrafted works! A large showroom, pretty spacious and not crowded at all, I saw outside of the window yellow lights were glowing, the floor was wet it was drizzling and the place was warm with a cool soft breeze blowing, I really wanted that moment to stop there and we could spend more time, the architecture was a mix of British and European and I said... how beautiful what architecture marvels - simplicity in red brick, white and beige walls and black metal light poles throwing soft yellow light... it looks so much better from most markets I go to in India... And then I thought oh! This is not what they are capable of... it's a small town and not crowded and this market is definitely from the pre-partition era... I was so engrossed in the inner chat that I said... oh “It's not like this at our place!” and I was loud .. pretty loud, the shop manager or maybe he was the owner partner, asked me... What? Where are you from? Now I got a little scared, trying not to tell him I am Indian, I was not sure how he would treat me? Insult me? Call local goons to get me picked up? There Police will also not help... what can I do? Should I tell him? As I was deep in my thoughts... This guy asks me again, Where you are from? Now I know he has heard us speak and has understood we are not locals, So I said Dilli. He said hmmm, I thought so and almost ignored as if it did not matter, I was shocked and a little bit surprised as well, no reaction? But then this guy was a pure Baniya, it seemed he was only interested in what all he could sell and how? Now. 

The Sun was about to set, and we were to visit so many more places and Rashi is not even finishing her shopping here, I give her a sign hey do it fast we gotta go and she is really adamant and say... chill !!! take it easy let me shop, what's the hurry that's why I am here for, one by one the customers from the shop are vanishing (there were hardly any) and now it's we with a couple of staff members, while we were shopping for footwear the shopkeeper had overheard us talking about the Punjabi Suits and Dupattas etc, he said I have some let me show you, and I also same some jewellery (not real) but metals you would have never seen, they are exclusive and very local, tribal! And the next moment the stuff came, Rashi was fully engrossed in the stuff as I looked around observing people, are we in a trap? Would they lock us in the shop when most people go out? No no, I thought he is a businessman and is excited to see us because he thinks he can make big money! Rashi calls me Rakesh, which one you like and then the discussion between the three of us starts! She picks up one uniquely different stuff, which looks like part tribal, part art and part museum stuff... but I had no role and cannot give my opinion.

Next, we were coming out and at the exit steps of the shop, I bump into a close friend of mine Shyam Grover! Hey, What are you doing here, When did you come? Where are you staying? Who all are together... both of us asked similarly must have questions and we figured we were staying at the same Hotel! So Shyam told me lets catchup in the Hotel in the evening as he had a small work to wrap, he was here alone for some official work and it would be a great time pass in a strange, alien country where we both have come for the first time and don't know anyone local! I was happy, excited and felt a little relaxed! Oh... someone I can bank upon at least!

Now, we were at peace as our day and ended and we knew we are not going anywhere, we are to spend time in Hotel only, we realised that the Hotel’s architecture is quite weird, then I realised it's like an old Ahaata (A place covered with a big boundary wall) converted into a boutique hotel, A hotel which is really offbeat and gives people a flavour of local culture, so the entrance was nothing like a Hotel but a Big Metal Gate - You can't see outside (something like that of a factory) and inside it was a small world of sorts, in that we had a little old building, narrow stairs and our room was maybe on the second or third floor, we inspected the room only now and felt ok, it looks different but meets our purpose of getting to know locals more, and with that we got fresh and then came out of our rooms, now we were stepping across the Hotel. 

Looking around, going up and down only to realise that this is Hotel but also has some residentials flats, as carefree as she was throughout and has always been in life, Rashi ventured out inside a house to have a look, I trailed with curiosity and crafted my internal strategy... "If someone catches us we will play ignorant" ... and in this chase, I saw the whole house... a Pakistani upper-middle-class house from inside... And then we did it for another house and then my patience was over. I started to succumb, hey what's wrong with you, why are you entering people's house? Without even asking them, taking permission? Do you know what you are doing, if we are caught ... I don't know what will happen... I was scared ... really scared .. shit scared, and she was not bothered, it was like a trip, trek a cultural walk... I again reminded her... listen even if we enter anyone's house in India without them knowing us and their permission, they will handover us as thieves to Police... And this is not even India... This is Pakistan... but she would not move... we saw a couple of houses in the same compound, with loads of variations within and went on to the rooftop and checked peacefully.

After a while we came back to the hotel lobby, a roof height, differently shaped lobby ( zig zag od rectangles), we sat there waiting for someone to take orders, I came across a man who looked very fit, very sharp and agile. It looked like he was well travelled and believed in cosmo culture, he introduced himself to us and told that he is a martial arts expert and if I would be willing to take a lesson, we chatted I told him I am from India - for the second time since I landed here I was comfortable and he was happy to teach me stuff. 

His art was very different; it focused on making you lean, agile and pretty strong to safeguard yourself but like any other art form it needed dedication and loads of self-practice. He assured me he will take me through enough in these three days so that when I go back, I will be able to learn from him through online classes... I was excited and happy to find a committed, passionate teacher... who is willing to teach me with dedication, I did not think why? I did not question and was happy and accepted. So he was by our side and I took a few lessons of that art form. I will share what I learned... but one had to be bare-chested to practice the art, have a Stick and a Hunter like rope ( I am missing the name), two props!

As our beverages come, we are sitting on this really plush, artistically decorated lobby and sipping our drink, I started to think of the brutalities these guys do on our minorities and it starts to bother me, I get scared again thinking inside the Hotel lobby, shall I tell them who am I, oh know they already know it. Loads of internal chat and then I am even scared to talking about Minorities, Hindus specifically, what's happening to the places of worships and more that I listen to soft chatters somewhere in the background some minorities are talking and they seemed comfortable, then I noticed the local newspaper which on the lower side of the table... As I see that paper... and want to pull out I notice a big Ad., on saving River Ganga... their Ganga? ... A campaign which talks about that, I now feel more comfortable... They are more like us, not too strange, not too radical. I wanted to pull that paper and read that ad., but was not sure how people will take me... why should I do that... I am here for work and visiting my ancestors land... let me not get into these thoughts, discussion any more. 

I was thinking about the Punjabi Hospitality once again, the famous hospitality, stories of which I heard as a child and wanted to experience the love, compassion, and charm of the locals... showering on us... like we have come from that far away land of their own people, similar culture, the same family ... but divided beyond their will. 

I was craving loads of expressions and stories. I had heard from friends who had visited people in their old lost villages of Pakistan and how the locals went gaga over them, knowing they once belonged to that land... I was missing that ... I was still missing it and I knew it may not happen on this trip as now only two days are left. I would be lucky if I experience a little bit of good words from the host country we are in... but to experience that first I will have to open up... and I was not willing to do that. 

I was behaving like a middle-class boy, deeply in love with the daughter of a gangster (really filmy), almost sure that the girls loved him too. But cannot muster the courage to call her love! Her goon millionaire father ... pampers me as he knows, I mean good for her daughter and help her in school... .but love? If he gets to know I will be kidnapped, maybe killed and if lucky warned and left. 

That's what I had become - Boy from India in love with a girl - the footprints of a lost clan, trying to revive them. 

In all this mental and real hustle, I was too tired and went to our room to sleep! I had forgotten to call my friend Shyam, and strangely he had also not called. Assuming he would be busy, I thought I will connect with him tomorrow. As I was about to shut the room door, I heard “ Bhaiya!” this time it was my childhood neighbour, Parul...a very close family friend (at a certain time we lived like a family only) Aap kab aaye? Yahan kaise? Bhabhi bhi saath hain? Oh! I came here for work, Official! It's my first trip here, You are staying here? ... I am stationed here as well ... He kept on talking ... So excited to see us, and then he said OK bhaiya I have work to do, I will see you in the morning... We shared goodnight and he left. 

I was not able to sleep properly the whole night Rashi was fast asleep. She had thoroughly enjoyed the trip. We were in this town of Jahaabad, and we were to go to a different city close by in the morning. I got up early and walked downstairs, my martial arts teacher was ready to take a class .. early in the morning and as I started ... I said ... Can I do it later? I want to go out of the hotel and have a look outside... he happily nodded.

I opened the Gate ... saw a couple of women outside of our Hotel, wearing suits, very familiar faces, one on left, two across the road sitting on a Cot. I said oh wow! It's like India, it's my childhood home, I want to tell these ladies here, I want to tell them, that “If I am not told, where I am, I will only think It’s India!... it's no different ... it's so similar” 

I love this place ... it's like my home town. I wish I could tell this story to the ladies in my neighbourhood and to the world!

I shook out of my bed, It was my dad calling from Kanpur, and am still dreaming.

I shook out of my bed,

It was my dad calling from Kanpur,

and am still dreaming.