Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Aman Ki Asha Page Published in The News
Aman Ki Asha Page Published in The News
Aman Ki Asha Page Published in The News
By Ruchhita Kazaria
Eminent
historian
Ayesha Jalal at
the Kolkata
Literary Meet
Kalam talks
about the
relevance of
Manto to India
and Pakistan
In discussion with Ayesha Jalal: Sayan Bhattacharya (left) and Aakar Patel, author of "Why I Write: Essays by Manto". Photo: Abhishek Chamaria
Visiting Delhi as a Pakistani, despite the visa restrictions and police reporting, no one treats me as a foreigner and I feel free to roam
B R I E F S
By Sehba Sarwar
In the dim light before
dawn, as the taxi meanders between neighborhoods to find Singh Sons
Hotel, I catch sight of an
elephant with its owner plodding along the street. Rubbing
my eyes, I peer out of the window but the bulky sight is left
far behind in the winter darkness. Later when I tell my
Delhi-based friend Fawzia, she
nods: People rent elephants
for weddings, she tells me.
They walk to different parts of
town, and sometimes they
have to start that early to
cover thirty miles.
I'm used to sighting animals
along Karachi streets where
camels, horses, donkeys with
carts and carriages or without
often slow down traffic. Animal owners depend on them
for transportation and income,
but this was my first time of an
elephant on a street.
But then, after the twentyfour hour journey from Houston to Delhi, all I want is to collapse on a bed. At the hotel
where I spend my first eight
hours before moving to
Fawzia's house the hotel
owner wants to photocopy my
passport. I oblige him, but a
few hours later, I'm woken up
by the jangle of my bedside
phone.
The hotel owner sounds
worried. I need to get your police reporting form, he tells me.
We must have photocopy of
form.
I remember police reporting from more than thirty years
ago when I flew several times
to Delhi from Karachi with my
mother and siblings. Back
then, my sister, brother and I
didn't even have passports. We
Mumbai-based
academic
who's submitting work for my
Houston-based arts organization's publication. I was introduced to her via a Karachi
friend, and she was in Delhi to
give a talk on post-partition
Sindh since that's where her
family comes from.
And aside from open intellectual borders, I also felt free
to roam within the city
(since I only had permission
to be in Delhi, Aligarh or Allahabad) just as did the couples wandering along the
streets. Youngsters went to
bars to dance and drink without worry of being busted. At
night I withdrew money from
ATM machines without fear of
being robbed. At a family luncheon, I sipped wine with elderly, sari-clad khalas.
My visit was short, but I
was able to use my time well
and spend time with everyone
I wanted to visit since there
were no city shutdowns,
strikes or bomb blasts. Yet, as
I boarded my plane, I felt a
sense of sorrow thinking of
what Karachi was, and what it
might have been had the eighties unfolded differently.
My sense of loss was exacerbated by recognizing that
the people I met -- artists,
writers and relatives -- have
families on both sides of the
border; we are connected to
each other with similar histories. Yet, today, not many of
us get to cross the borders,
and certainly, we cannot
move around each other's
countries without governmental permission.
The actions of a few have
changed the lives of many.
And because of the limitations, most of us are denied
the opportunity to learn for
ourselves that there is no real
border.
Sehba Sarwar is a writer
and artist who has published
and exhibited work in India,
Pakistan and the US. Website:
www.sehbasarwar.com
Destination Peace: A commitment by the Jang Group, Geo and The Times of India Group to
create an enabling environment that brings the people of Pakistan and India closer together,
contributing to genuine and durable peace with honour between our countries.