Yesterday I was reading an article which made me all nostalgic. And, in keeping up with tradition, those days when we were regular visitors to the ceremony at Wagah Border flashed past my eyes.
It seems like only yesterday when all of us in the family made our first visit to the famous Wagah Border to witness our maiden service there. For something that happened more than 13 years back, the memory is still vivid and crystal clear, so much so that at times I feel like reaching out.
Yes, I was a teenager then in every sense. An eager beaver, I’d always get excited at the smallest provocation. You’d either love me or hate me. There were no other options, as I gave no other. I was extrovert to the level of craziness.
I was as all younger siblings are; carefree, careless, unassuming, unworried, unhurried, with a devil-may-care attitude in life. I never used to think twice before doing something. I still remember clearly, how I used to think about how I was different from other people of my age and that there is just one purpose to my life: ‘pursuit of happiness’. I sought pleasure in everything I did or rather I did only those things where I found pleasure.
It would range from playing games to copying in exams to sneaking a mouthful during class to collecting TinTin comics to playing scrabble to playing cricket and never accepting an out decision even when clean bowled to taking up quarrels to putting up firecrackers in the Headmistress’s office etc. And all this for what, pure delight, of course. That was me.
I was spoiled to such an extent that I would go out and play on the very eve of board exams. Yes, I used to face stiff resistance from my mother and my big bro, but then my father always allowed me the freedom to choose. And, I being what I was always chose enjoyment over studies (read: pain). I still remember my father asking me “if you think playing is important now, then go for it” and out I’d go.
That was then.
I would always thank God for blessing me by making me a part of this small happy family (No, I don’t think any differently now. I love my folks. They are the best people around).
Wagah Border:
My first visit to Wagah Border happened when I was in class 10th and must have been 15 years old; way back in 1996 (I hope my memory is not failing me).
My dad was an officer with the Indian Army and was recently posted to Amritsar. The calendar showed the month as December. My father moved to Amritsar ahead of us thanks to the tense times (read: terrorism) and our studies. Once we had our final exams all of us packed our bags and shifted to Amritsar. I was thrilled on the prospect of going ‘back’ to Punjab (a state in India). ‘Back’ because I’d spent greater part of my childhood at different places in Punjab and had developed a natural affinity to the state, its people, its cuisine, its dialect, its weather and everything. I’d come to love this state.
It must have been barely a couple of weeks that we’d moved to Amritsar that we children started plotting our first visit to Wagah. The times were tense and dad never gave us the go ahead for visiting Wagah, which is some 30 miles north-west of Amritsar which is also known as "Attari (India)-"Wagah" (Pakistan) border. (History always helps. So here is a handful. Wagah is the only road border crossing between India and Pakistan, and lies on the Grand Trunk Road between the cities of Amritsar, India and Lahore, Pakistan.)
We used every trick in the book, but alas, nothing worked. Some say perseverance pays. As a surprise, Dad planned a trip to Wagah with some co-officers and their families. This trip was planned more as a picnic and we had our stomach full by the time we reached Wagah Broder.
En-route to Wagah we must have come across countless trenches. On asking we kids were informed by one smart looking officer that these trenches were useful in times of war. I, for one, couldn’t fathom how digging up a trench can help in war. As always silence is the best aide of the ignorant. I looked around and saw that all kids were nodding their head in understanding so I did likewise (some wise man/woman once said: When in Rome do as the Romans do). So, I nodded my head as if I got it all and made a mental note to ask elders in family later.
Well innumerable and uncountable minutes later we managed to reached Wagah Border.
It was evening time, a little after 4:00pm and we were just in time to witness a ceremony called ‘The Retreat-Lowering of Flags’ (which starts 30 minutes before sunset). It involves warrior-like stamping and gesturing by soldiers as they perform the ritual of ‘The Retreat-Lowering of Flags’ which culminates with the lowering the colours on the Indian and Pakistani sides of the Border and closing the gates for the night. The honors are done by the Border Security Force (B.S.F.) on the Indian side and the Sutlej Rangers on the Pakistani side. You see, I had my history of this ceremony clear.
We were given VIP seats. Moments after we were seated, the ceremony began and I was amazed by the intensity of the soldiers on both side of the border. It was breathtaking to say the least. What amazed me was that these soldiers do it daily and still retain the passion that we were witnessing. It was spell-binding.
But, sadly, it soon became a real hotbed of nationalistic passions and of course drama, when people from the audience started crying Pakistan Zindabad (Long live Pakistan) and Jai Hind (Long live India). All the cries of passion came from none other than civilians of course, as if they know everything that the book of patriotism has to offer. But, that is how we are crazy sentimental people. And, it goes true for both sides of the border.
The final scene was the lowering of the flags exactly side by side to great cheering. This ceremony has taken place every day since partition in 1947 and was a truly unique experience. I have this frozen memories of my first ever visit to Wagah Border and i musts say that I will never be able to forget it.
We eventually went on to Wagah several times. Only to freshen our memories and applaud the great soldiers manning our borders.
Bas yeh meri kahani…
ek dastaan purani…
benishaan nishaani…
yadoon ka jungle yeh dil…
zindagi hai jo jiye jaati hai…
khwaab aankhon se siye jaati hai…
LoLs…yeah prose coming from me is like a nightingale blaring.. :-)
PS: Ten on ten if you guessed it right…this is plagiarism…I borrowed these lines from a famous Indian movie song :-) no offence, all credits to the lyricist… :-)
