Pakistan Opens Indian Visitors' Eyes

Several prominent Indian journalists and writers have visited Pakistan in recent years for the first time in their lives.  I am sharing with my readers selected excerpts of the reports from Mahanth Joishy (USIndiaMonitor.com), Panakaj Mishra (Bloomberg), Hindol Sengupta (The Hindu), Madhulika Sikka (NPR) and Yoginder Sikand (Countercurrents) of what they saw and how they felt in the neighbor's home. My hope is that their stories will help foster close ties between the two estranged South Asian nations.

Mahanth S. Joishy, Editor, usindiamonitor.com :  (July, 2012)


Many of us travel for business or
leisure.  But few ever take a trip that dramatically shatters their
entire worldview of a country and a people in one fell swoop.  I was
lucky enough to have returned from just such a trip: a week-long sojourn
in Pakistan.

It was a true eye-opener, and a
thoroughly enjoyable one at that.  Many of the assumptions and feelings I
had held toward the country for nearly 30 years were challenged and
exposed as wrong and even ignorant outright.

 ------------------------------

 The Western and Indian media feed us a steady diet of stories about bomb
blasts, gunfights, kidnappings, torture, subjugation of women,
dysfunctional government, and scary madrassa schools that are training
the next generation of jihadist terrorists.  And yes, to many Westerners
and especially Indians, Pakistan is the enemy, embodying all that is
wrong in the world.  Incidents such as the beheading of
American journalist Daniel Pearl, 26/11
and the Osama Bin Laden raid in Abottobad have not helped the cause
either.  Numerous international relations analysts proclaim that
Pakistan is “the most dangerous place in the world” and the border with
India is “the most dangerous border in the world.”


--------------------------------------

(Upon arrival in Karachi) two uniformed bodyguards with rifles who
were exceedingly friendly and welcoming climbed onto the pickup truck
bed as we started on a 45-minute drive.  I was impressed by the massive,
well-maintained parks and gardens surrounding the airport.  I was also
impressed by the general cleanliness, the orderliness of the traffic,
the quality of the roads, and the greenery. Coming from a city
government background, I was surprised at how organized Karachi was
throughout the ride.  I also didn’t see many beggars the entire way.  I
had just spent significant amounts of time in two major Indian cities,
Mumbai and Bangalore, as well as several second-tier cities like
Mangalore, and none would compare favorably on maintenance and city
planning, especially when it came to potholes and waste management.
 This was the first surprise; I was expecting that piles of garbage and
dirt would line the roads and beggars would overflow onto the streets.
 Surely there is dirt and poverty in Karachi, but far less than I was
expecting.  Karachi was also less dense and crowded than India’s cities.



My second pleasant surprise was to see
numerous large development projects under way.  I had read about
Pakistan’s sluggish GDP growth and corruption in public works and
foreign aid disbursement.  This may be true, but construction was going
on all over the place: new movie theaters, new malls, new skyscrapers,
new roads, and entire new neighborhoods being built from scratch.  In
this regard it was similar to India and every other part of Asia I had
seen recently: new development and rapid change continues apace,
something we are seeing less of in the West.

 -----------------------

 We were also able to do some things which
may sound more familiar to Americans: bowling at Karachi’s first
bowling alley, intense games of pickup basketball with some local
teenagers at a large public park (these kids could really play),
or passing through massive and well-appointed malls filled with
thousands of happy people of all ages walking around, shopping, or
eating at the food court.  We even attended a grand launch party for
Magnum ice cream bars, featuring many of Pakistan’s A-list actors,
models, and businesspeople.  A friend who is involved in producing
musicals directed an excellent performance at the party, complete with
live band, singing, and dancing.  This troupe, Made for Stage has also produced shows such as the Broadway musical Chicago to critical acclaim with an all-Pakistani cast for the first time in history.



Even the poor areas we visited, such as
the neighborhoods around the Mazar, were filled with families coming out
for a picnic or a stroll, enjoying their weekend leisure time in the
sun.  All I could see were friendly and happy people, including children
with striking features running around.  At no time did I feel the least
bit unsafe anywhere we went, and we definitely went through a mix of
neighborhoods with varying profiles.

 ------------------------------------------

 Lahore is more beautiful overall than
Karachi or any large Indian city I’ve seen.  Serious effort has gone
into keeping the city green and preserving its storied history. 
Historians would have a field day here.  In particular we saw two
stunning historic mosques, the Wazir Khan and the Badshahi,
both of which should be considered treasures not only for Muslims,
Pakistanis, or South Asia, but for all of humanity.  I felt it a crime
that I’d never even heard of either one.  Each of them in different ways
features breath-taking architecture and intricate artwork comparable to
India’s Taj Mahal.  These are must-see sights for any tourist to
Lahore.  The best way to enjoy the vista of the Badshahi mosque is to
have a meal on the rooftop of one of the many superb restaurants on Food
Street next to the mosque compound.  This interesting area was for
hundreds of years an infamous red-light district, made up of a series of
old wooden rowhouses that look like they were lifted straight out of
New Orleans’ Bourbon Street, strangely juxtaposed with one of the
country’s holiest shrines.  From the roof of Cuckoo’s Den restaurant,
we could see all of the massive Badshahi complex along with the
adjoining royal fortress, all while having a 5-star meal of kebabs,
spicy curries in clay pots, and lassi under the stars.  We were
fortunate to have very pleasant whether as well.  This alfresco dining
experience with two good friends encompassed my favorite moments in the
city.



We did much more in Lahore.  We were given a tour of the renowned Aitchison College,
which one of my friends attended.  This boys’ private prep school is
known for its difficult entrance exams, rigorous academic tradition,
illustrious list of alumni since the British founded the school, and its
gorgeous and impeccably maintained 200-acre campus that  puts most
major universities icluding my own Georgetown to shame.  Aitchison has
been considered one of the best prep schools on the subcontinent since
1886.  However, it would have been impossible to get a tour without the
alumni connection because security is very thorough.



Pankaj Mishra, Bloomberg:  (April, 2012)

...I also saw much in this recent visit that did not conform to the
main Western narrative for South Asia -- one in which India is steadily
rising and Pakistan rapidly collapsing.

Born of certain
geopolitical needs and exigencies, this vision was always most useful to
those who have built up India as an investment destination and a
strategic counterweight to China, and who have sought to bribe and
cajole Pakistan’s military-intelligence establishment into the war on
terrorism.

Seen through the narrow lens of the West’s security
and economic interests, the great internal contradictions and tumult
within these two large nation-states disappear. In the Western view, the
credit-fueled consumerism among the Indian middle class appears a much
bigger phenomenon than the extraordinary Maoist uprising in Central
India.
------------
Traveling through Pakistan, I realized how
much my own knowledge of the country -- its problems as well as
prospects -- was partial, defective or simply useless. Certainly,
truisms about the general state of crisis were not hard to corroborate.
Criminal gangs shot rocket-propelled grenades at each other and the
police in Karachi’s Lyari neighborhood. Shiite Hazaras were being
assassinated in Balochistan every day. Street riots broke out in several
places over severe power shortages -- indeed, the one sound that seemed
to unite the country was the groan of diesel generators, helping the
more affluent Pakistanis cope with early summer heat.

In
this eternally air-conditioned Pakistan, meanwhile, there exist fashion
shows, rock bands, literary festivals, internationally prominent
writers, Oscar-winning filmmakers and the bold anchors of a lively new
electronic media. This is the glamorously liberal country upheld by
English-speaking Pakistanis fretting about their national image in the
West (some of them might have been gratified by the runaway success of
Hello magazine’s first Pakistani edition last week).

But much
less conspicuous and more significant, other signs of a society in rapid
socioeconomic and political transition abounded. The elected parliament
is about to complete its five- year term -- a rare event in Pakistan --
and its amendments to the constitution have taken away some if not all
of the near- despotic prerogatives of the president’s office.

Political
parties are scrambling to take advantage of the strengthening
ethno-linguistic movements for provincial autonomy in Punjab and Sindh
provinces. Young men and women, poor as well as upper middle class, have
suddenly buoyed the anti-corruption campaign led by Imran Khan, an
ex-cricketer turned politician.

After radically increasing the
size of the consumerist middle class to 30 million, Pakistan’s formal
economy, which grew only 2.4 percent in 2011, currently presents a
dismal picture. But the informal sector of the economy, which spreads
across rural and urban areas, is creating what the architect and social
scientist Arif Hasan calls Pakistan’s “unplanned revolution.” Karachi,
where a mall of Dubai-grossness recently erupted near the city’s main
beach, now boasts “a first world economy and sociology, but with a third
world wage and political structure.”

Even in Lyari, Karachi’s
diseased old heart, where young gangsters with Kalashnikovs lurked in
the alleys, billboards vended quick proficiency in information
technology and the English language. Everywhere, in the Salt Range in
northwestern Punjab as well as the long corridor between Lahore and
Islamabad, were gated housing colonies, private colleges, fast- food
restaurants and other markers of Pakistan’s breakneck
suburbanization....

Hindol Sengupta, The Hindu: (May, 2010)

Add this bookstore to the list of India-Pakistan rivalry. A bookstore so
big that it is actually called a bank. The book store to beat all
bookstores in the subcontinent, I have found books I have never seen
anywhere in India at the three-storeyed Saeed Book Bank in leafy
Islamabad. The collection is diverse, unique and with a special focus on
foreign policy and subcontinental politics (I wonder why?), this
bookstore is far more satisfying than any of the magazine-laden
monstrosities I seem to keep trotting into in India. ...








Yes,
that's right. The meat. There always, always seems to be meat in every
meal, everywhere in Pakistan. Every where you go, everyone you know is
eating meat. From India, with its profusion of vegetarian food, it seems
like a glimpse of the other world. The bazaars of Lahore are full of
meat of every type and form and shape and size and in Karachi, I have
eaten some of the tastiest rolls ever. For a Bengali committed to his
non-vegetarianism, this is paradise regained. Also, the quality of meat
always seems better, fresher, fatter, more succulent, more seductive,
and somehow more tantalizingly carnal in Pakistan. ....

Let me
tell you that there is no better leather footwear than in Pakistan. I
bought a pair of blue calf leather belt-ons from Karachi two years ago
and I wear them almost everyday and not a dent or scratch! Not even the
slightest tear. They are by far the best footwear I have ever bought and
certainly the most comfortable. Indian leather is absolutely no match
for the sheer quality and handcraftsmanship of Pakistani leather wear.

Yes.
Yes, you read right. The roads. I used to live in Mumbai and now I live
in Delhi and, yes, I think good roads are a great, mammoth, gargantuan
luxury! Face it, when did you last see a good road in India? Like a
really smooth road. Drivable, wide, nicely built and long, yawning,
stretching so far that you want zip on till eternity and loosen the
gears and let the car fly. A road without squeeze or bump or gaping
holes that pop up like blood-dripping kitchen knives in Ramsay Brothers
films. When did you last see such roads? Pakistan is full of such roads.
Driving on the motorway between Islamabad and Lahore, I thought of the
Indian politician who ruled a notorious —, one could almost say
viciously — potholed state and spoke of turning the roads so smooth that
they would resemble the cheeks of Hema Malini. They remained as dented
as the face of Frankenstein's monster. And here, in Pakistan, I was
travelling on roads that — well, how can one now avoid this? — were as
smooth as Hema Malini's cheeks! Pakistani roads are broad and smooth and
almost entirely, magically, pot hole free. How do they do it; this
country that is ostensibly so far behind in economic growth compared to
India? But they do and one of my most delightful experiences in Pakistan
has been travelling on its fabulous roads. No wonder the country is
littered with SUVs — Pakistan has the roads for such cars! Even in tiny
Bajaur in the North West frontier province, hard hit by the Taliban, and
a little more than a frontier post, the roads were smoother than many I
know in India. Even Bajaur has a higher road density than India! If
there is one thing we should learn from the Pakistanis, it is how to
build roads. And oh, another thing, no one throws beer bottles or trash
on the highways and motorways.

Madhulika Sikka, NPR News: (May, 2010)


This may be hard to believe, but the first thing that crosses your
mind when you drive into Islamabad is suburban Virginia — its wide
roads, modern buildings, cleanliness and orderliness is a complete
contrast to the hustle and bustle of the ancient city of Lahore, some
220 miles east on the Grand Trunk Road.




Islamabad
is laid out in a grid with numbered avenues running north to south. The
streets are tree lined and flowers abound among the vast open stretches
of green space.

Perhaps one of the
most beautiful spots is the Margallah Hills National Park. Drive up the
winding road on the northern edge of town to the scenic view points and
you'll see the broad planned city stretch before you.
It's
a Sunday afternoon and you could be in any park in any city in the
world. Families are out for a stroll and picnicking on park benches.
There's a popcorn vendor and an ice cream seller. Kids are playing on a
big inflatable slide. Peacocks strut their full plumage as people are
busily clicking away on their cellphone cameras. Lively music permeates
the air as souvenir sellers are hawking their wares. Off one of the side
paths I notice a young couple lunching at a bench, a respectable
distance apart from each other but clearly wanting to be alone.




So what's it like here? It's pretty much like everywhere else. On a
quiet Sunday afternoon people are out with their families, relaxing and
enjoying themselves, taking a break from the stresses and strains of
daily life. For all of us this is an image of Pakistan worth
remembering. I certainly will.

 

Yoginder Sikand, Countercurrents.org : (June, 2008)

Islamabad is surely the most well-organized,picturesque and endearing
city in all of South Asia. Few Indians would, however, know this, or, if
they did, would admit it. After all, the Indian media never highlights
anything positive about Pakistan, because for it only 'bad' news about
the country appears to be considered 'newsworthy'. That realization hit
me as a rude shock the moment I stepped out of the plane and entered
Islamabad's plush International Airport, easily far more efficient,
modern and better maintained than any of its counterparts in India. And
right through my week-long stay in the city, I could not help comparing
Islamabad favorably with every other South Asian city that I have
visited. That week in Islamabad consisted essentially of a long string
of pleasant surprises, for I had expected Islamabad to be everything
that the Indian media so uncharitably and erroneously depicts Pakistan
as. The immigration counter was staffed by a smart young woman, whose
endearing cheerfulness was a refreshing contrast to the grave, somber
and unwelcoming looks that one is generally met with at immigration
counters across the world that make visitors to a new country feel
instantly unwelcome.


Here's a Pakistan Pictorial:
Find more photos like this on PakAlumni Worldwide: The Global Social Network


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Comment by Riaz Haq on July 20, 2023 at 4:37pm

PAKISTAN, THROUGH INDIAN EYES

https://tribune.com.pk/story/2389418/pakistan-through-indian-eyes

Ms. Nitupola Sharma writes an account of her first encounter with a Pakistani and her visit to Pakistan

A very strange thing happened to me in the Badshahi Masjid, which will stay a mystery for me forever. I somehow feel it was God’s way of showing me that that He was there. As our group of six adults and seven children went inside the mosque, right outside the gate was a man sitting with a basketful of what looked like sweetmeats packed in cellophane paper. There was another person standing beside him, and as we passed by, the gentleman standing next to the seller picked up a packet and offered it to me. I declined politely. He shook his head and said, “Prasad [food and water offered to a deity during worship] nahin lena?” [Don’t you want prasad?] Astonished, I immediately accepted. My group had already gone ahead, and I had to run to catch up with them.

Prasad at the doorstep of a mosque? How had this stranger identified my religion? I was dressed no differently from the other women. Or was it the mosque offering sweets? After doing a tour of the masjid, we came out, and I noticed that both the seller and the gentleman were gone. I showed the packet to Shaista, my colleague’s wife; she was convinced that it was either drugged or poisoned and forbade me from sharing it with the children. She also enlightened me to the fact that mosques do not offer any sort of prasad like temples do.

I went ahead and opened the packet of soan papdri sweets. I vouch by their crispy fluffy texture and I live to tell the tale. When nothing happened to me, we, the adults, shared the rest of the sweets, but no one could figure out who those men were and where they went. We went back to the place the next day to see if the men were there again, but no one was there. I could have sworn on my life that the person looked like a Pathan and could not have been anyone else.

It was past midnight when we finally headed home after celebrating Ryan’s birthday. Lahore was still awake, and life outside seemed like it was still early evening. Midnight on the eve of Eid was another discovery for me when Shaista took me shopping. At that hour of the night, I would not have expected Pakistani women to do finery shopping. There seemed to be a lot of activity all around. Mehndi stalls, shopkeepers not being able to keep pace with demands of specific shades of lipstick and nail polish, and jewellery of every kind. My favourite amazingly beautiful glass bangles in a myriad of colours, ready to be matched with any outfit. It was a scene straight out of a Bollywood movie, only this was real, and I was relishing every minute of it.

The next few days were spent enjoying amazing hospitality and savouring great food. Days went long into night, and I realised that the Lahore society was used to late nights with even children being wide awake while Ryan and I walked around like zombies. Lahore was another incredible experience for us, and we could not wait for more.

Where the straggly pine treetops reached out to the sky in hope of a whisper of sunlight, and the hills wore a deep red hue. That is where my friends took us next. We drove on serpentine roads by the deep gorges of the Kallar Kahar Salt Range to Murree and Ayubia in the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province. The scenery changed frequently, sometimes barren hills greeting the eye and sometimes bountifully lush green hillsides. The road was colourfully decorated at places with shawls hung out for sale and salesmen lounging by the roadside, staring longingly with soulful eyes at the passing cars, willing them to stop. In some places, the road was lined with trees in full bloom as the yellow blooms competed with the fresh green leaves.

Comment by Riaz Haq on July 20, 2023 at 4:38pm

PAKISTAN, THROUGH INDIAN EYES

https://tribune.com.pk/story/2389418/pakistan-through-indian-eyes

Ms. Nitupola Sharma writes an account of her first encounter with a Pakistani and her visit to Pakistan

After what seemed an eternity, we finally arrived at our destination just as the sun decided to take a break and the evening chill to bare its claws. Murree was a hill station choc-o-bloc with jostling stalls displaying tempting woollens and Kashmiri jewellery. My mind was engrossed with this feeling of déjà vu after I saw a huge photo hung on the wall of the restaurant where we had supper. The painting was a faded replication of the Mall Road as it was during the British Era. And then it dawned on me. It was the Mall Road in Shimla, with the church, the downhill road, and the small culvert. The British had left the signature of their homeland in all the places they touched and adopted. Because of the dim light of dusk, I could not see much of Murree’s Mall Road or a church or a culvert.

The jostling crowd of tourists, the smell of roasted groundnuts in the air and the colourful cotton candy added to the festive atmosphere that enveloped us. Tiredness eluded us as the children enjoyed a screaming pram ride uphill before we proceeded into the darkness of Ayubia. Roads were not too familiar for Saad, and before we realised the road ahead turned into a misty darkness as we fumbled our way through. Children had dozed off, happy and content with full tummies. We finally made it to the hotel safe.

I cannot for my life recall the name of the hotel, but the view of a deep ravine, depths of which played hide and seek with my eyes, with golden streaks of sunlight piercing through thick trunks in the early morning is a mental image I will treasure forever. Sunrays seemed so alive with millions of dust particles swimming against a clear blue sky. That early morning welcome sight more than made up for the bone chilling water that greeted us when we went inside to take our baths.

The previous evening had ended with us sipping sweet, brewed tea out of glasses as we discussed world politics, India, Pakistan, and the future of our region. Children added spice with frequent appearances as we tucked our toes into our chairs, trying to keep them warm in our long coats. There seemed to be a univocal agreement on the worthlessness of the enmity of our two countries, and wastage of time and money whereas competitiveness should have been solely concentrated on the cricket field. We talked about the huge fiscal wastage on arms, whereas the same money could have done wonders if spent on the development of the region. It was as if we were nothing but puppets in the hands of powers that wanted to maintain a certain status quo and were slaves to profits at the immense cost of human lives, peace, and development.

Nathiagali greeted us with a sumptuous breakfast of hot parathas and fluffy masala omelettes in the fresh, crisp, mountain air. As we feasted, I shared the story of my arrival in Karachi with my overwhelming emotions of instant despair, fear and then warmth in the first two hours of landing in Pakistan. A concerned and protective Shaista kept shushing and warning me on my choice of words — I was using the word Indian too much — as she gestured to a group of men in grave discussion at a nearby table, with their rifles casually leaning on the side of the table pointing upwards. I could not help wondering if they were the Taliban!

After breakfast, we splurged on some quick shopping and curio hunting. I mused on the prices I had paid for my shopping; things were unbelievably cheap. Saad explained that the priority of those shops was to sell their wares so they could have food at home. It was inconceivably sad.

Comment by Riaz Haq on July 20, 2023 at 4:50pm

I can cite plenty of examples of Indians visiting Pakistan who differ with Prof Ishtiaq Ahmad view of the two countries. 


Famous Indian writer and poet Javed Akhtar told his audience at a conference in Mumbai that he saw "no visible poverty" in Lahore during his multiple visits to Pakistan over the last three decades. Responding to Indian novelist Chetan Bhagat's query about Pakistan's economic crisis at ABP's "Ideas of India Summit 2023" in Mumbai, Akhtar said: "Unlike what you see in Delhi and Mumbai, I did not see any visible poverty in Lahore".  This was Akhtar's first interview upon his return to India after attending "Faiz Festival" in Lahore, Pakistan. 
 
------------------
 
 
The drive from Lahore to Islamabad is stunning. Across five hours, the lush farms along the Chenab and Jhelum Rivers transform into the green hills and mountains as eye-catching trucks and buses dot the scenery. Tucked along the way in the Potohar Plateau, I find myself lost in the Katas Raj temples. This complex is one of Pakistan's most fascinating mythological sights. As legend goes, the temples surround a pond created by the teardrops of Lord Shiva, who roamed the Earth in grief after the death of his wife Sati. The temples themselves play significant roles in the Hindu epic Mahabharata. In the present day, these structures are extremely peaceful and well-maintained. I can't help but ask my guide if their presence has caused problems with locals after Partition. He eloquently surmises: "Why would [the temples] cause problems? Ultimately, it is a place of worship and people respect that. We lived together before 1947."

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