But We Still Fight....

Third time in 18 years, got a chance to meet and closely engage with a few Pakistanis.. This time it was in Goa. A small group of us, a few Sri Lankans, a few Pakistanis and yours truly hired a taxi for the beach. It was a long drive.

I met  Pakistani friends the first time, way back in 1994. In late teens and brimming with nationalism (mostly when it came to cricket!), I had, what I would call a defining moment in life, when I first met them. It was in Japan. South Asia Youth Exchange Program.  A couple of people were speaking in Hindi;  I turned around. Later realized that it was Urdu, they were from Pakistan, and also had come for the same Youth Exchange Program. The next two weeks saw me ‘growing up’ with a whole new world open to me, which I started seeing through my own eyes. That world was distinct. It still is. It is largely free from parochialism; it is built by people whom I have met, spoken, ate with and have had a coffee with and laughed about basically anything.

Those Pakistani friends went out of touch, but what I felt about them stayed live.

In Goa I re-lived what I felt in 1994, even more precisely. As an adult. A woman,  after having rowed the boat of life; its ups and downs. This time, what struck me most was their sense of humour… sometimes bordering on cynicism, just like any free thinking Indian’s, on social issues. That long drive was spent on ‘shayaris,’  talks on Sufi music and literature and what not. What took me mostly by surprise was ‘semya’ (payasam in Kerala) is called the same in Pakistan! For lunch it was served for us in Goa, and those from Pakistan loved the Semya! Apparently it is a must-have sweet in their Eid Festival. Phew!

It is the same people. Same language. Shared history. Culture. Literature. Could not help but contemplate why do we fight? What for? When people become institutions why do we cease to think as people?