Indian trip by Pakistan's top Media persons

[Humanist]

Around 10 top media personalities like Moeed Pirzada, Kamran Shahid, Raja Rumi etc have visited india . Here are some articles written by Raja Rumi about his experience in India cities.

JAMMED IN DELHI

My first time in the enemy capital as a journo – Part One

Twenty-four hours before my departure to the enemy lands, I still had not received my visa. This time my rushed, jam-packed travel to India was a bit of an identity switch. From a development professional, a Sufi devotee and a culture-vulture, I was now a journalist representing none other than The Friday Times. Accordingly, I sat on a plane with pockets full of visitors cards and little idea of what this junket was all about.

Indeed, the peace industry across the globe is an unbroken series of junkets, high-sounding statements and admittedly a lot of fun. I was travelling with ten other Pakistani media persons: from Urdu, English, electronic and print varieties. Luckily, I knew Cyril Almeida of DAWN, our Shaukat Piracha (who also works for AAJ) and Asim Awan of Express-Tribune – there was little awkwardness in getting familiar with the group.

Between the two high profile visits of the Indian Home and Foreign Ministers this was a visit to give Pakistani media representatives access to the Indian mood and where it stood. Perhaps, an effort to forge a better understanding of what Indians were thinking and to hear of the Pakistani concerns from the non-state side. A tacit and slightly belated acknowledgement that the Pakistani media has arrived (perhaps nowhere) and has entered the power-game.
The more we fight, the more similar we look. After the 2008 tragic incidents in Mumbai, the Indian and Pakistani media displayed their raw power and the ability to shape public opinion. In India, the media stirred up jingoism even in the most pacifist human, while in Pakistan the India-centric paranoia and its paradoxical counterweight – our nuclear prowess – were drummed up by idiot box gurus.

For this reason, our trip was meant to be eventful and perhaps relevant too.

Bukhara diplomacy

After the usual PIA delays, we got into Delhi much later than anticipated. Luckily, the immigration counters were friendlier this time. Our High Commissioner was on the same flight and this was a good chance to have chitchat right there. Ali Zafar, a budding Bollywood star was also entering Delhi for the promotion of his new film – Tere Bin Laden – that remains banned in Pakistan due to its over- the-top name.

We had a set of earnest hosts adept at taking care of journos. We were greeted and whisked away to a luxury hotel. Delhi was hot, humid and unbearable – the rains were expected but the delayed monsoon cycle had dashed all hopes of a respite. Of course, inside the hotel one was miles away from the real India and its temperature. In this make-believe world, we all enjoyed a dinner at Bukhara, now a globally-acclaimed restaurant for its association with the Clintons, who loved the cuisine there. The food was fantastic – a medley of tikkas and roasts and tenderly grilled vegetables and paneer. Whilst the name and moorings of the restaurant is Central Asian, the cuisine had a distinctively Pakhtun aura and flavour.

Next morning, we all huddled together for an incredibly long day. We met the Foreign Office bureaucrats first. The thrust of the briefing there was on how well India was advancing as an economy. At this point Dr Moeed Peerzada said that all such facts were available on the Internet. The conversation therefore drifted towards the inevitable: Terrorism, Mumbai and Pakistan’s reluctance to ‘do more’. However, as such conversations are, diplomacy on both sides was maintained, and never did the discussions go haywire. Later, in our meeting with the impressive Foreign Secretary Nirupama Rao, we had a replay of the earlier discussions, but with a strong signal that at least the Foreign Office was under instructions to demonstrate its quest for peace.

Rao, a gentle South Indian, emphasized creative solutions and the need to think outside the box. Who could disagree with that? But the limits of creativity set by Indian public opinion are tricky. Mumbai hovers all around. There is not a single sentence or idea that is not laced with Mumbai-talk. As we found out later in the trip, Indian public opinion, shaped by a ubiquitous media and national security lobby, is firm on this issue. Now, one can only imagine what a group of eleven journalists can say or do when faced with such an immense mood swing.

In any case, we tried our best. For instance, Anjum Rehman, a sprightly anchor on Express 24/7, time and again mentioned how Pakistanis shared the grief when the Mumbai killings were taking place. Asim Awan, also of Express group, mentioned that terrorism was abominable and unacceptable for a common Pakistani, regardless of where it takes place. Kamran Shahid, a popular TV anchor in Urdu, kept on highlighting how Pakistan itself is a victim of terror, and that there was a need to see the larger picture.

By then David Hedley, another misguided missile, had made all his ‘confessions’. Therefore, the Pakistan-victim brand did not sell, at least in these formal meetings. Privately, people did show a lot of concern and empathy, I must add.

Walking within the North and South Blocks of the Raj Secretariat in Delhi is a delight. The majesty and ambiance of the architecture, credited to Luytens, an English urban planner especially brought to Delhi to design magnificent buildings, has remained intact. Capturing a few images was not possible, as photography was banned here. Good old security policies redundant in this day and age.

All in the day’s work

At lunchtime, we were introduced to the motley stars of the Indian media. The big publishing houses and TV channels were all represented. A robust discussion took place around the table, that was thankfully informal and light. But the issues remained the same. There was a tacit admission by some among the Indian galaxy that media owners need to be brought to the Indo-Pak peace table, given their influence and outreach. Indrani Baghchi present there made some practical suggestions. Her detailed analysis after a day or two referred to the need to engage with the Pakistan Army as a strategic counterpart. Of course, the recent rounds of US-Pak dialogue have set a precedent of sorts.

By the time this pleasant lunch was over we were once again packed into a minibus and taken to the overwhelming secretariat to meet with India’s exceptional politician: Home Minister, P. Chidambaram. This was a short meeting, where we were advised not to take notes. Dressed in a white Mundu, a traditional South Indian dress (a distant and grander cousin of the dhoti), Chidmabaram spent half an hour with us. Once the meeting was over he rushed out for another appointment with little security, no hangers-on, in a modest Ambassador car. Indian politicians know how to keep their optics right. Unlike our crop of pseudo-regal, extravagant politicos, one rarely finds an Indian politician displaying his or her wealth, howsoever corrupt they might be.

Chidambram’s piercing intellect is the first thing you notice about him. While he tried his best to be diplomatic, his razor-sharp style made many of our colleagues rethink their questions and comments. He had just returned from his Pakistan visit and appeared to be quite satisfied with his discussions there. Interestingly, he was all praise for Rehman Malik, his counterpart in Islamabad, and called him a ‘capable’ investigator. Of course, the discussion, as expected, centred on Mumbai.

I raised the issue of information-deficit that ails the Indian mainstream media and by extension public opinion about Pakistan. Unlike us, Indians do not hear much about Pakistan, other than gory accounts of terrorism, spy thriller accounts of the ISI, and of course Mr Hafiz Saeed, who seems to have done well for himself. It is not too easy to scare a country with a billion plus population, a mammoth army and nuclear weapons, not to mention an eight per cent growth rate. For all the wrong reasons, the militant groups have succeeded in their mission, where millions of peace-loving Indians and Pakistanis have miserably failed.

Chidambaram agreed with my point on information, loosening media controls and rethinking unnecessarily arbitrary visa regimes. I also restated like an old parrot how every belligerent move by India undermined the chances for civilian supremacy here. Alas, this vicious circle is relentless.

So much for the information deficit on Pakistan. While the policymakers knew about the alleged jihadi camps, they had no clue that Bollywood films were now screened across Pakistan!

Tanking the thought

As if this day was not packed enough, our hosts had planned another meeting. The jatha of Pak journos arrived at the Observer Research Foundation. This ‘think-tank’ is managed by former diplomats, generals and bureaucrats, with the help of independent researchers, and is a well-ensconced Delhi talk shop. Two sweet old men – one a former Ambassador to Pakistan and another a Lahori who migrated and became the Naval chief – chaired the session. Pakistan was under the spotlight once again, and we all aired our views as well as pointed out the holes in the arguments presented to us by eminent analysts there.

Jyoti Malhotra, an independent journalist, challenged the discourse and rightfully pointed out how the bigwigs, while in service, toe the establishment line, but after their retirement turn into peaceniks. Saeed Naqvi, another well-known Indian journalist, made some incisive comments and hinted how Musharraf’s offers fell on deaf ears in India. Abid Hussain, former Indian Ambassador to the US, argued for a new peace framework, as older recipes had failed. Hussain also made us all swoon over his chaste renditions of Urdu poetry amid landlocked discussions.

Yet another event had been planned which I conveniently escaped, as I had to make my customary visit to the dargahs of Nizamuddin Auliya and Amir Khusrau. A visit in the night is the best experience, when the Qawwals are getting into a trance and magic takes over the dargah compound. But my visit was followed by a hysterical call from home about the suicide attack at Data Darbar. For many minutes, an imaginary shell struck me, for one could never have thought of this happening in reality.

As I made my blog entry that night, the fear of losing the Lahore I knew was palpable and immense. I did not know that this was to be picked up by the international media, and for the next twenty-four hours, I was engrossed in soothing my nerves by endless email and phone interviews, including a short hop to the BBC offices in Delhi. A catharsis of sorts.

Our day two in Delhi was also chaotic. Starting from a fascinating briefing at The Energy and Resources Institute (TERI) to a lively meeting at Indian Express, the day was informal and allowed for a wider interaction than the purely official ‘hard-talk’. Shekhar Gupta at Indian Express amused us with his spot-on analyses, as well as his lighthearted banter about the ‘vigil’ crowd at Wagah, and how the Punjabi nostalgia community had shrunk to nothingness. Identifying newer peace lobbies was a clear message from this day. Seema Chishty, another editor at the Express, highlighted how Indian Muslims were also part of mainstream public opinion regarding Mumbai. Pakistan, we were told, needed to take this into account. I wondered if the extent and intensity of this position was even known across the border.

From the Express we set out to the Indian Council of World Affairs where another group of serving diplomats and former Ambassadors had organized a big meeting with Delhi-based journalists and ‘intellectuals’. Kamran Shahid and Shaukat Piracha spoke from our side. Shahid was vociferous about Hafiz Saeed obsessions, while Piracha focused on how people-to-people contact was essential to the future of this region. Now the questions from a large group, assembled in a town hall style, were not all that sweet. There was bitterness and lament, and the ‘do more’ mantra was loudly chanted.

After the chairpersons (former diplomats of course) summed up the proceedings, echoing a tough line on Pakistan, we all had tea together. Now, this was a different world, amiable, warm and hospitable. Pran Neville was also there, who met me with boundless affection, and a few other acquaintances were found among the melee around the spicy dhokla and tender pieces of barfi.

Jyoti Malhotra waited for Shaukat Piracha and me while we gave countless interviews to young journalists on the peace process. Gita from X news was the most impressive in her articulation. Later, Jyoti took us to another Delhi watering hole: the India International Centre, where we sat around Delhi’s gifted, sometimes self-conscious, intellectuals and artists. IIC is a space that Lahore lacks, for its hangouts are now class-driven, where ordinary mortals are not allowed in.

Raza Rumi is a writer and policy expert based in Lahore.

FIRST PUBLISHED IN THE FRIDAY TIMES

 

[Humanist]

PART 2 - Yeh hai Bombay meri Jaan

In Part II of this series, Raza Rumi travels to India’s thriving megapolis with a media delegation

After a whirlwind Delhi tour, the Pakistani media persons set off for a fleeting visit to Mumbai. If I am not mistaken, ours was the first big delegation to this megapolis that crossed the contemporary fault line between India and Pakistan. Less than a dozen zealot-mercenaries terrorized Mumbai twenty months ago, and now the issue of terrorism has derailed the formal Indo-Pakistan talks.

This was not a very comfortable journey. Not that we were not looked after by our hosts. It was a well-organized tour. But the overdose of Mumbai mantra in Delhi had rattled some of us. What happened there in November 2008 was ghastly and inhuman; and Ajmal Kasab’s nationality stirred public opinion like never before. Thanks to a belligerent media and live telecast of terrorism (almost to the point of glorifying it) the result was what the jihadis had hoped for. Jingoism flourishes in such odd climes and the Mumbai hangover, as we all found, is a potent reality in India.

Within the delegation, I underwent a strange sensation – of a remote, awkward connectedness with the place. Twenty years ago, as an apolitical and naive student I had arrived in Bombay to see my friends from the London School of Economics. This was a ten day long trip, which I shall not forget for many reasons. I found a cosmopolitan buzz, abject poverty and immense human bonding then. I stayed in a building where Bollywood’s long-lasting diva Helen lived, and met scores of young men and women who looked the same but adhered to a different lifestyle.
Thanks to this wheel of journo-fortune, I found myself at the airport exactly two decades later, with a packed itinerary. Bombay monsoons, despite the havoc they cause, are quite enchanting. The polluted environ rejuvenates and bored trees start singing. Such are the delights of a tropical ecological zone.

Things had changed. Bombay has metamorphosed into Mumbai (shining India is also more parochial); Sahar airport had been renamed (as Chatrapathi Shivaji International Airport) after the great Maratha leader Shivaji, who happens to be a villain in our textbooks for having defied the Mughals. The mythology around Shivaji is fascinating. On our last day, the tour guide, an amiable and educated woman, told us how he escaped the Mughal prisons and covered a thousand miles on horseback to reach Maharashtra. The airport looked swankier and many slums that shocked me in 1990 had been upgraded. If anything Mumbai looks far cleaner and more efficient than before.

We stayed at the Trident (Nariman Point) hotel, which was also attacked in November 2008. The premises had been renovated and the place has been reinterpreted in postmodern styles and hues. The hotel is located next to the sea and the civilized pavements enable you to stroll along the long beach. Less than a kilometre away is the Nana-Nani Park specially designed for older people, where they can hang out and get some exercise. Only in Bombay!

Monsoon rain slowed our journey to the hotel. From the Shivaji airport to our hotel, it took us two hours. Already late for our appointment at the Export-Import (EXIM) Bank of India, we had to huddle yet again into the minibus to meet our hosts. A sumptuous lunch awaited us in an old building where the bank offices are located. EXIM, though a public sector institution, was quite an impressive outfit. We were briefed on India’s growing economy and vibrant banking sector. This is where we learnt that now 70% of the Indian economy was documented due to a rational tax regime introduced as part of the recent economic reforms. India’s trade is expanding with China, and the current volume stands at 60 billion dollars per annum. When we discussed the scope and viability of India-Pakistan trade this was a helpful figure. Irrespective of their old hostilities China and India are trading with each other. Pakistan’s self serving experts often scare us about India flooding our market and capturing our economy at the cost of consumers. Almost all consumables are cheaper in India. Of course the ‘ideology’ – an imagined construct – stops us. We are happy to beg from ‘infidels’ but averse to trade with our neighbours.

Having said this it was illuminating to note that formal trade between the two enemies had crossed the two billion dollar mark in 2008. There are strong economic lobbies on both sides that are waiting for a grand thaw to jump in. But the politicians, bureaucrats and kleptocrats prevent this from happening on both sides.

The Pakistani delegation asked several questions and the responses from the EXIM professionals were objective and devoid of the political overtones that we heard in Delhi. Thankfully, the Mumbai attacks were not mentioned even once. It does get a little over-the-top when you are furthering peace and have to engage in jingoistic discourse.

Coming back to the hotels and the psychological aftermath of 26/11, the security at the Bombay hotels was quite intense. Vehicles and body searches were part of the routine. After we returned from our official meeting, we also walked towards the ill-fated Taj hotel that perhaps is the single most important visual representation of the 2008 attacks. On the opposite side, the majestic Gateway of India peacefully watched the multitude of tourists and the pigeons. It was quite an eerie experience as we stood there just before dusk was to change the colour of the sky.

I had forgotten what the city looked like. It is electric in its speed and visually a planet out of the early colonial India. The Portuguese and the English architectural sensibilities mark Bombay’s landscape. The influences are eclectic – from the Roman, Gothic to the hybridized version of Anglo-Indian. A drive around the city was fascinating as we passed the venues known for their Bombay stamp – Churchgate, Victoria (now Chhatrapati Shivaji ) Terminus, numerous churches and cathedrals. Cyril Almedia was lucky as he tagged along the city with his friend Zasha Colah who works as a curator at the Prince of Wales Museum. He reported the next morning about his relentless pursuit of a city reminding me of a Bollywood flick, Iss raat ki subah nahee – a film where a Bombay underground drama and high-pitched action unfold all in one night. Good (and not so) old Cyril proved to be the new avatar of the film hero who had managed so many sights and sounds in one night.

Anjum Rehman went off to see her friends and relatives including Chauhdry Khaliquzzaman’s family, where she was accosted with many complaints on what ‘Pakistanis’ had done to the city. Kamran Shahid was planning stories and interviews like an ambitious TV journalist, and quite sensibly stayed away from the Hafiz Saeed debate but defended Pakistan’s interests vehemently, when required. A Sardarji who was his classmate at the London University picked up Asim Awan from the hotel. Indians and Pakistanis forge great friendships once outside contested territories and imaginations.

I met my friend Naheed Carrimjee, a thorough Bombayite with the right accent and credentials that boast of a native girl. Meeting her after those tumultuous college years was truly thrilling, as we caught up on our lives, friends and all the vicissitudes. I was saddened to learn that her lovely parents who looked after me were no more. Naheed is now a leading lawyer of the city, fully immersed in a thriving practice and rights’ activism in the Bombay slums.

Naheed woefully related how she lost many friends and acquaintances in the Mumbai attacks. But she refrained from name-calling and pointing fingers. She is too civilized. We walked around in Colaba, shopped at the chic Bombay Store and then chatted in an old cafe that was adequately quaint for my liking. Dressed in a cotton sari with a pearl necklace, this was a different version of the person I knew: Getting-old-syndrome. The last time we hung out, life was free of professions, obligations and ambitions. Naheed’s sister ended up marrying a Pakistani corporate wizard in Boston. Despite the iron curtain and enemy construction, human bonds are difficult to control, even by nuclear-armed states.

Before flying out I managed to drag out quite a few colleagues to visit the Haji Ali dargah, located in the sea. This was another deja vu moment, as the shrine has not changed much. The poor tour guide of ours did not know much except that it was another proof of India’s secularism. We had of course heard this one before, well, endlessly. On our way back, a quick city tour was effected: The landmarks, parks and a drive on the Malabar Hill. This is also the area where Jinnah’s contested, forlorn house stands much like his shattered dream of Hindu-Muslim Unity. But this is also where the ugly reality of today’s India stares you in your face through the one billion dollar home being built by Mukesh Ambani – India’s best-known billionaire who gifted a jet to his wife on her birthday.

Yet Bombay’s entrepreneurial commoners are up to interesting stuff. Thousands of dabbawalas supply lunch tiffins to 250,000 people in their offices – they pick up and drop the tiffin each day with precision and remarkable efficiency. Smart washermen communities handle hundreds of thousands of laundry items and deliver them at your home. But the most interesting snippet for me was how the old British era factories, now abandoned due to changed economic circumstances, were being recycled to preserve heritage and reinvent their spatial use.

I found this out when I was taken to a dinner party by another set of college friends: Naina and Vivek. An old factory now hosts the globally acclaimed restaurant chain ‘Good Earth’. I met more Bombayites with more questions on why and when was Pakistan going to collapse. I assured them that there was no such prospect, as Pakistanis were resilient and knew the art of survival. A little later, confessions were made as to how most of them wanted to travel to Pakistan, especially to the northern areas, where the Karakorams enchant even stonehearted visitors.

Naina and Vivek had moved to Bombay a few years ago and love the city. Both of them had to hide in the by-lanes on the fateful day of November 2008. They did not complain overtly but I could read their eyes. It was best not to explore the subject further. Personal and political can sometimes be kept separate.

By the end of our Bombay tour, I had made new friends. The thoughtful Ansar Bhatti of Daily Post, Faysal Aziz of GEO who took great photo-shots, and of course Anjum Rahman who shared the secret excitement of our incursion into the chaotic folds of buzzing Bombay.

To be continued

 

[Humanist]

PART 3 - India's Silicon Valley

In Part 3 of the series, Raza Rumi visits Bangalore, city of gardens and high tech

After our sojourns in Delhi and Mumbai, the Pakistani media representatives were afforded the opportunity to visit the fulcrum of shining India i.e. Bangalore, now rechristened as Bengaluru, its original name in Kannada. It was not difficult to guess why Bangalore is loved by so many across the globe. Its weather makes it a most unique city, somehow free of South Asian extremes in temperature. Weather aside, even the nature of its residents is fascinating, for it is palpably different from their North Indian counterparts. As we were to find out later, the distant conflicts of belligerent North India matter far less in the tropical climes of this congested yet verdant metropolis.

We were greeted at the airport by a contingent of security apparatchiks and the state police. The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) had planned country-wide protests over the increased fuel prices that were supposedly causing inflation and misery for the poor. The Pakistani delegation found itself amid a historical moment when the BJP was being backed by the communist parties of India in protesting over the reduction of state subsidies to keep the price of oil low. Hence, the tight security. As Karnataka is ruled by the BJP and regional parties, the strike was a great success, and we found the streets of Bangalore deserted.

The ITC Royal Gardenia Hotel where we stayed was simply stupendous. It had been recently built and was touted as a green haven for its adherence to environmental standards. Designed with an open plan sensibility, it had a feel of expanse and splendour. Special purpose vertical gardens had been created to augment the ambience and blend nature with standard hotel architecture. However, life presents its little ironies, and one could not help notice the ITC (Indian Tobacco Company) ownership of this hotel chain. The corporate world knows well how to whitewash its minor sins and major profits.

Bangalore, lovingly nurtured as an archetypal British cantonment, has always been referred to as the City of Gardens. Its ecology helps create green spaces with plenty of rainfall per annum. However, Bangalore has also transformed over the years due to its emergence as an information technology (IT) hub. In many ways, the Indian IT success story, central to the India-shining narrative, is intertwined with Bangalore and its eminently hospitable mores. Among others, Infosys, a global giant conglomerate, grew and evolved in Bangalore. But there are other hubs too which make Bangalore a success story of contemporary India.
However, as we were told by many residents, development has come at a heavy price. The city is now a traffic nightmare, and gives an over-constructed look because of the large population. In spite of this account, we found Bangalore to be most charming. City roads were fairly empty on day two of our visit. Life returned to normal after five pm. By then we were at the Deccan Herald offices, where the editorial team interacted with us for a few hours (and later hosted a lovely dinner party at the Bangalore club) The most impressive part of our discussions was the congeniality and the willingness to understand Pakistan’s point of view. Representatives of the Deccan Herald’s sister publication Prajavani (a widely-circulated newspaper in Kannada) were also there.

We were quite candidly told that news on Pakistan had limited popularity in Bangalore, especially among the younger generation, as their concerns and priorities had changed due to the rapid growth that the state, especially Bangalore, had experienced in the past few decades. In terms of education, Bangalore leads the country with nationally acclaimed institutes like the Indian Institute of Management (IIM), National Institute of Design and the celebrated National Law School of India University. Even in terms of per capita income, Bangalore is among the top cities of the country. Kashmir, Mumbai and other fault lines between India and Pakistan were also discussed, but the tenor of the conversation was mild and conducive to unbiased communication.

There were a few Muslim women working as journalists in this media house. One of them, extremely bright and attractive, raised the issue of how the alleged acts of “Islamic terror” perpetrated by Pakistanis made things difficult for Muslims everywhere.

The other female staffers questioned us on the role and status of women in Pakistan, as their access to information on the country was limited, and subject to various stereotypes. Anjum Rahman of Express TV was quite articulate in giving a balanced view of the situation, and the other female member, Saeeda ji, of our delegation from the Business Recorder, Pakistan, provided a reasoned explanation of how Pakistan was a dynamic and complex country where clichés hardly made sense.

I added my little bit on the increased reporting of honour killings in India, and the uninformed debates on purdah which was dominating the headlines in the corporate media. For instance, how could one separate the veiled Rajasthani woman from a Muslim woman? Overall, this was a robust discussion. One editor even mentioned how removed the mainstream discourse was from the Partition saga and the Pakistan-centric worldview of the Punjab and its representatives in the ruling oligarchies of India.

After this meeting, we got a couple of hours to stroll around in the city centre. Half the shops remained shut despite the end of the strike. Shaukat Piracha and I walked a long way after crossing a lovely boulevard with blooming flame of the forest trees, and reached the commercial street. We had forty-five minutes before the deadline set by our hosts. So I had a quick chaat, a South Indian sweetmeat, and picked up cheap cotton clothes (before they were exported and sold in posh outlets abroad).

One could not help but notice the large number of Muslim residents in Bangalore. This was news to me as I found out that over a quarter of the city’s dwellers were of the Islamic faith. The brethren were discernable because of their ‘tableeghi’ beards, and many women wore fastidious burqas. Earlier on the plane we had also met dozens of Bangalore Muslims who were returning from Umrah and had occupied two thirds of the seating space. At the time of take off, they even recited the appropriate Quranic verses which obviously unnerved a couple of passengers on the plane. Muslim stereotyping, especially on aircrafts, is now a global reality.

Asim Awan and I had decided to visit the Tableeghi markaz but we could not find the time. I also lost interest, for it was bound to be more of the same. Instead on the last day of our visit I visited a Sufi shrine with an internet friend of mine.

Fiza, a young intellectual, met me through the Pak Tea House blog that I set up a few years ago. These days she is associated with an alternative organization called ART., which works with students, academics, artists and art professionals. Through their workshops, ART promotes a composite arts’ pedagogy. Fiza took half her work-day off, and before we left for the airport gave me a city tour and showed me the delightful buildings of the colonial era.

We also had a traditional South Indian meal served on a banana leaf with hot accompaniments and an exceptionally well-cooked vegetables. But the highpoint of this city tour was a visit to the most celebrated dargah of Bangalore. True to my leanings, I could not bring myself to visit the Tableeghi markaz despite the sociological interest in doing so. Instead, I landed in a dargah.

A saint of the Suhrawardi school of South Asian Sufism, Hazrat Tawakkal Masthan is also known as Bangalore’s Qutub (the highest station in Sufis). Nawab Hyder Ali is also linked to the saint, as Tawakkal was one of the pious labourers who worked as a menial labourer at Hyder Ali’s fort at Kalasipalya. Hyder Ali found out about these mysterious men who worked all day and worshipped all night and started to recognize their spiritual powers. Hyder Ali named his son Tipu after one of the saints.

A lovely mosque dated 1783 stands next to the dargah. As is always the case, oral histories are plural. Another version says that, Tawakkal Mastan, came from Iran as a trader and later gave up his business and found enlightenment in the Indian environment. There are curious amalgamations of Hindu and Muslim rites at the darghah.

I was surprised to find out that the dargah’s trust runs a computer institute, an English medium school, and a host of technical centres. Interestingly, Hindus and Christians also study at the schools. An avid devotee of Khwaja Muniuddin Chishty, the global icon A R Rahman also visits the dargah regularly. The dargah’s motifs and decoration were different from the other shrines I have visited in India.

Later, Fiza took me back into the folds of modernity. We stopped at another bookstore where we browsed through publications and connected with an array of people enjoying books. There we ended up presenting books to each other and said goodbyes. This was surreal – a cyber figurine turning real.

Before my sightseeing ventures, our delegation was taken to Infosys which turned out to be another marvel of modern Bangalore. Built in the style of an American University, Infosys is less of a corporation and more of a ‘campus’. We were given a quick round and then introduced to the mega success story of the company which was started in1981 by seven people with US$ 250. Today, it is a global leader in the “next generation” of IT and consulting, with revenues of over US$ 4.8 billion.

Its main areas of advice and design include business and technology consulting, application services, systems integration and product engineering, among other disciplines. The head of marketing who gave us the briefing has been teaching at MIT in the US and was a live wire because of his sharp understanding of not just his area of expertise but also of the world economy.

What is now termed as a global footprint is practiced by Infosys withsixty-three offices in India, China, Australia, the Czech Republic, Poland, the UK, Canada and Japan. By June 2010, Infosys and its subsidiaries had 114,822 employees.

This was an amazing insight into the rise of Indian entrepreneurship. If our relations were normal and we stopped reinventing our enmity, there is a lot that the two countries can learn from each other. Sadly, the list of Infosys offices does not include Pakistan.

Our responses on the occasion were measured, and inevitably the discussion came to politics and bilateral relations as well. Kamran Shahid as before ardently defended Pakistan’s national interest while others such as Dr Moeed Pirzada and Shaukat Piracha were keen to know more and more about the place. During the briefing we were served Western and South Indian delicacies and aromatic coffee for which South India is famous.

The tragedy of this first-ever visit to Bangalore was its short duration. Having said that, it is always better to have seen a city than never to have visited it. From Bangalore we were going back to Delhi to meet our High Commissioner and return to a home which was boiling in the wake of attacks on Data Darbar and blasts in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa. Unfortunately, while the monsoons had started there were no signs or preparation for a disaster in the making – the floods of July-August.

Before I sank into an evening nap on the plane, I could not help thinking about the way Bangalore has travelled in time. From a huge British cantonment it is now a global hub of the IT profession. Perhaps there was a lesson or two here for a nationalist Pakistani like myself.

 

[Humanist]

LAST PART - Entangled Destinies

In the final part of this series, Raza Rumi recounts the last few days of the media expedition to India

Pakistani media persons landed back in Delhi after a whirlwind tour of Mumbai and Bangalore. Once back at the Maurya Sheraton, we had the last few days of the tour planned well in advance. A sizeable number of the visitors were taken to the ephemeral Taj. Thankfully this was not mandatory, as some of us wanted to stay back in Delhi, especially those who had seen the Taj during their earlier visits.

Pakistan’s High Commissioner, Mr. Shahid Malik invited us for lunch, and this was my first visit to our stunning High Commission located in Chanakyapuri, New Delhi’s diplomatic enclave. The sumptuous lunch cooked with much aplomb was preceded by a lively discussion about our trip and our impressions regarding the possibility of peace.

Pakistan’s diplomatic haven is a well-designed building merging Islamic, Indian and Western sensibilities. The blue-domed structure merges well with Delhi’s vista of monuments, some well- kept and others neglected. This is an irony, at its best! Nevertheless, this was familiar territory.
Mr Malik is a seasoned and affable diplomat who knows the art of using the choicest phrases and words. Among our diplomatic corps he is perhaps the best India expert due to his substantive experience of serving there in several capacities. The present government has extended his tenure, noting how we need an ambassador who is not just suave but also well-ensconced with Hindustan and its myriad moods.

During our meeting with him, he was candid and said many things that cannot be printed. Briefly, he articulated the Pakistani position on the necessity and importance of continuous dialogue. He took note of what we said and found our impressions to be quite positive. During lunch, Mr Malik mentioned how he was keen for us to meet the Pakistani Foreign Minister upon our return to the homeland. That meeting did take place two days prior to the Indian Foreign Minister’s arrival. Unfortunately I could not attend but my dear colleague Shaukat Piracha read out my thoughts, a sample of which were:

“ … we found a willingness among Indians for engagement with Pakistan. This bodes well for the peace talks, and Pakistan should ensure that we strengthen formal as well as backchannel diplomacy… Pakistan should demonstrate its resolve to pursue a proper investigation with respect to the Mumbai suspects, without compromising our national interests. India is keen for regional peace and stability as the growth momentum in India is now a self-propelling reality. Pakistan should benefit from this dynamic by expanding trade and economic ties. ”

Coming back to our diplomatic setting in Delhi, a few of us were categorical in saying that public opinion in Pakistan was always behind the dialogue process, and in recent times against militancy and extremism. Who would disagree that the issue of militant groups has become a nightmare for the elected governments both in India and Pakistan, as the electorate wants security and economic progress, and militancy only leads to war and further impoverishment.

The dossiers on Mumbai took some time in our discussions at the High Commission’s stately meeting room. But I wanted to raise another issue that is now plaguing the way Pakistan is perceived in the ‘Other’ land: Stereotyping. I suggested that Pakistan should invest in building a more ‘real’ image of our country and its inhabitants through more cultural delegations, parliamentarians’ visits, as well as through promoting Pakistani arts and crafts. Indian public opinion, thanks to the western media and Indian TV, views Pakistan as a country full of ‘terrorists’. Other than terror attacks little mention is made of a neighbour that some Indians have written off. Our destinies are intertwined and denial on either side is self-defeating. It is time that the hawks on the Indian side should not misrepresent us.

This is why most members of our delegation felt that media restrictions need to be lifted on both sides. I believe that the information flow has to be negotiated as an essential right of the peoples in the subcontinent, and not considered as a favour by warring states drunk on their sixty-year-old nationalisms.

This substantive trip was now coming to an end. From the High Commission, we got dropped off at various points for last minute shopping, media interviews and the relentless pursuit of stories. Alas, my colleague Asim Awan who was in Agra viewing the Taj asked me to buy him goodies for his family as most of the delegation members were due to leave by the next morning flight via Wagah. Anjum Rehman who disappeared in the Delhi maze also asked me to buy stuff for her.

There I was in Khan Market, the up-market shopping area close to where Khushwant Singh lives, and where the Capital’s chatterati and sometimes the glitterati are found. I had to purchase a minimal amount of fifteen packs of kaju ki barfee . Bengal Sweets was the place that Asim identified and I waited while the staff at the outlet negotiated with the deliciously displayed assortment of sweetmeats. I had a Rasgullah, a bit of Gujarati dhokla (made with a fermented batter of chickpeas) and greedily ended my gluttony with a Ramdana (amaranth seed) laddoo. Then I found time to browse through the glitzy shops at the market.

Contrary to the Mall culture booming across India, Khan Market is a high street experience. I am claustrophobic in Malls and therefore a place like this was a godsend. I hopped across various points: Bahrisons for new book titles and informative books for children, Shahnaz’s Store to buy a present for a dear friend and a chemist run by Sardarjis to procure cheaper medicines. Yes, the consumers pay much less for the same drugs we buy.

As I ventured back to the sweet shop, the first monsoon of the rains came from nowhere. This was an intense and thunderous shower. Little did I know how this monsoon cycle in a few weeks would devastate Pakistan. If I were a clairvoyant I would have despised the rain. But I confess that I did not. In that moment of abandon, I headed back to the shop, picked up the well-packed stuff and walked into a heavy downpour. The best thing was to see so many people in the rain – carefree, drenched and oblivious.

But Delhi, the venue for the forthcoming Commonwealth Games was very soon paralysed in this rain. By the time the roads were jammed, I was safely back in my unreal hotel room. But I could not go out. Others trickled in one by one, all wet and harried, a bit shocked at the way the Indian capital had stopped like an old clock.

Our hosts bid us a warm farewell with tons of photos and a small replica of the Taj Mahal. Next morning, our adventurous colleagues left via Amritsar, while I opted for a lazy flight straight to Lahore. Travel through Wagah does not excite me, where man-made borders, paramilitary-show offs and inane bureaucracies greet you on both sides.

Capital safari

The next twenty-four hours were free of official bonds, schedules and diplomatic niceties. This was the time to make my own schedule and do things that I wanted to. But time was barely on my side. Rarely have I been so punctilious and organized as was the case this time. An extension in my stay was not feasible and squandering time not an option.

I headed straight to a taxi-stand and embarked on a socio-cultural trident. First, a meeting with Dr Amita Singh who heads the Jawaharlal Nehru University’s Centre for the Study of Law and Governance, to discuss the forthcoming conference of a research network that I am part of. I was visiting the serene campus after many years. Dr Singh and I spoke about academic and non-academic matters, chatted over a cup of tea and two kachorees, and I collected a book in which my paper had been published, and another volume that I had edited.

The next halt was at Khwaja Bakhtiyaruddin Kaki’s dargah (shrine) in Mehrauli, and I walked around the place looking for lost tombstones. It was wonderful to get a peaceful respite here after several hectic days. But this was a short-lived experience, as I had to stop by at Vidya Rao’s place next door. Within twenty minutes, from a decrepit locale I was in a modern apartment building sipping adrak chai and chatting with Rao – a singer, editor, spiritualist and above all a patron of cats that she finds at dargahs. Within an hour I was with the Dehlvi family and later at the quiet, sleepy Nizamuddin Auliya’s shrine. The evening was mellow and a lone qawwal was ending his little devotional act. He sat there without an audience and floated musical notes into the air with a little harmonium. His repertoire had gone home but this lone performer filled the emptiness of the courtyard.

Visiting India as a media representative has its ups and downs. The curiosity about Pakistan is endless and one is supposed to answer all sorts of questions with some measure of responsibility. I noticed how perceptions change with your ‘professional’ identity. Opinions and comments are solicited or given with certitude. However, Pakistan’s media and its growing influence in the country is increasingly being acknowledged. This is quite an achievement for an institution that was always under siege and had to struggle hard before this bout of independence. It is good that the Indian establishment has also recognized the need to engage with the fourth pillar of the Pakistani state. Now it is about time that Pakistan does the same. Without a formidable public opinion behind peace, the normalization of inter-state relations is not possible.

While waiting for the plane to Lahore, I met our former High Commissioner Aziz Ahmad Khan, who was in Delhi on a personal visit. I told him about our fabulous trip and that there was a constituency for peace in India too. It is however true that it remains hostage to post-Mumbai rhetoric, but these challenges were not insurmountable. Mr Khan is a distinguished diplomat, and he neither contradicted me nor endorsed my comments. Nevertheless, it was a pleasure to have met such an articulate man who obviously was the right choice for important postings such as Afghanistan and India.

To sum up, trade, dialogue, an open visa policy and the smooth flow of information between the two countries will take care of historic acrimonies. In the long term for our survival as a subcontinent, we will have to agree on Kashmir, Siachen and other thorny issues. Hostility has its peculiar shelf-life, and the hate-formulae are becoming irrelevant sooner than we think.

The flight was half empty, reflecting how difficult travel between the neighbours has become over the years. Much as we might like to condemn each other, our destinies are intertwined. Such is the bittersweet truth of history, and perhaps, the hope for the future.

Raza Rumi is a writer, editor & policy expert based in Lahore

 

[indianpatriot]

eh? who cares?

 

[Humanist]

eh? who cares?

Noone cares.. But its a good read....

 

[desioptimist]

Nice first hand account on India, although it was an organized trip. Terror attack in mumbai has done what Kargil could not do, produced enormous hatred in India. The fact that pakistanis dont want to bring culprits to book, is actually keeping the wound alive.