Aman Ki Asha

I woke up this new year's day with the painful realization of a screaming headache that had probably been afflicting me for a a couple of hours now; only that I was lost in deep, alcohol-induced slumber so I couldn't feel it. As I stumbled across the hall in my friend's house (where last night's revelry had unfolded, and caused the said headache) and laid my eyes on the newspaper, I found the front page yelling, "Let's talk to Pakistan". This was a pleasant start to the new year. Having walked across the border at Wagah and therefore seen more than the pompous machismo most get to see at the change of guards ceremony, I had returned very happy with the treatment I had received in that country. The hospitality extended out to us, especially when people came to know that we were from the country next door was heart warming to say the least. The hospitality-givers didn't come from a restricted section of society. Shopkeepers, pedestrians, students, taxi drivers - a wide range of social and economic backgrounds were nothing but warm and generous. On new year's day then, one found oneself cheered up in throes of a dirty hangover. Even though I know where the whole Aman ki Asha hoohaa is headed, I know for a fact that there's no better feeling than getting an opportunity to tear through the iron curtain and realizing that the rather demonized common man at the other end is an average Joe like you. A lot of Indians will get to go to a lot of countries in the world, but still not get a chance to pay a visit to our neighbours. The tragedy of the situation is that there's so much distrust fuelled by emotional indoctrination that it takes a herculian effort on either side to even admit an opposing opinion. I remember the expressions on the faces of a lot of members of my extended family when I told them that I was going to Pakistan for a debate- sheer horror, an expression that they may have shown my corpse if I had committed suicide. Having gone and returned (in one piece, all organs intact), I'm glad about the fact that my words against the type-casting of a people hold more weight.

I read a post recently on another blog on how the move is superficial and can never succeed in improving our relations. The funny thing you'll discover, if you read the post is that the campaign affected our hangovers in separate ways. While I might dare to agree with him on the success of the campaign with respect to achieving its final objectives, I find myself in total disagreement with him as to the cause of that failure. Ironically this morning, the front page of TOI carried news of the exclusion of Pakistani players from the IPL and the reaction of the Pakistani politicians to it on the front page and about halfway into the newspaper, there was a full page spread on Aman ki Asha. On the front page, Nawaz Sharif called for a ban on Indian films in Pakistan and on the 12th, stories of collaboration between artists from two sides. With the IPL blunder, we've sent out a message that we did not want to send out. That dichotomy brings to light, the essential nature of the problem.

The sad truth very simply is the fact that no campaign for peace between the two countries can survive without political sanction, which is fundamentally fickle in nature. Both governments have this dying need to be politically correct (which one really can't blame them for) which involves striking a balance between wanting peace and at the same time reconciling with images of people dying in the streets. Having written the last line, I immediately begin to question whether the governments on either side are even concerned with striking that balance. Truth is, patriotism and nationalism sells better than tolerance.


Having said that, I believe it's better for me to not discuss Kashmir over a cup of tea with my Pakistani friend rather than treating him like an enemy. Aman ki Asha, with all the official sanction that it does not have, may not solve the problem, but is certainly better than not wishing for peace.