An Indian Student In Pakistan

It was in the hot and humid weather of August 1997 when I reached Islamabad with my parents. I was sevenyears old. My parents work for the Indian Foreign Service. They were posted to Islamabad.

As an Indian in Pakistan, there was always a little danger or risk in going outside your house. My parentsluckily got a huge house. That house used to be the residence of the Kenyan High Commissioner. It was also theneighbouring house to the Indian High Commissioner which was also a reason why one can say we were safer thanmost other Indians. The Indian High Commissioner had many guards. So if something happened to my family and I,that also could prove to be a threat to the Indian High Commissioner. Thus, we felt a little safer.

Islamabad did not have much to offer. There wasn't any such place where any tourist would like to visit.Except, maybe, the biggest mosque in the world, Shah Faisal Mosque.

Living conditions were good though - Islamabad is a nice clean area. But there were only two big markets.One was called Super Market and the other was called Jinnah Super. Super Market was a market mostly for buyingsports equipment, books and electronic toys such as video games and CDs. Jinnah Super was mainly for clothesand jewellery. Jinnah Super also had a shop called 'Videolink' where you could get pirated videos, especiallyIndian movies. 

Pakistanis watched a lot of Bollywood films. But they called them "Urdu" movies.There was hardly a Pakistani cinema or any other form of entertainment. Islamabad was a terrible city forpeople who visit restaurants often. There were only two major restaurants. They were called 'Arizona Grill'and 'Papa-salis'. There was also an American Club. But, it was not open to Pakistanis. Don't ask me whybecause I don't know.

As Pakistan was dangerous for Indians, I didn't travel very much. Not that I minded, to be honest. I visitedLahore and a hill station similar to Shimla called Murrie. I never found Murrie fun, but my friends went alongso it became worthwhile. Lahore was a few steps ahead of Islamabad. There was at least a bit of excitement forme as they had Pizza Hut, McDonalds, etc. Lahore is like a miniature Delhi. Except the facilities are not asgood and it's a bit warmer.

One troublesome aspect of life in Islamabad was a car following wherever you went. They would harass thepeople you met and spoke to. The Indians used to call these people the "goons".

There was a Hindi school in the Indian High Commission so that when the children come back to India they won'thave too much trouble communicating with the people here. Going to the Hindi school ruined my Fridays andSaturdays. Many times I would lock myself in the bathroom and the bus could not wait so it left. While goingto the Hindi school one strange incident happened one day. There would be one van and one bus going todifferent areas of the city to pick up the children to school and bring them back, like a school bus. While wewere going, the "goons", about whom I mentioned earlier, followed us with a video camera. Theteacher accompanying us (the mother of one of the kids) was not fearless but she did the smart thing bytelling everyone to lie low. As we reached the Embassy, the "goons" went straight ahead.

All this may give you an impression that Pakistanis hated us to the very core of their hearts. But that is notentirely true. I had many Pakistani friends. I still keep in touch with them. My school was called ISOI(International School of Islamabad). There were children from all nationalities attending this school. But themajority were Pakistanis and Americans. However, as the school was expensive, only the rich Pakistani childrenattended this school. One would expect these children to be spoilt. They may have had a little excess moneybut they had a clean heart and good intentions. Most of the Pakistani children in my grade (standard) were myclose friends. They did not mind that I was Indian or that I was Hindu. In the beginning the Pakistanis didtry to mock me, but they were unsuccessful.

In the beginning of my days in Pakistan some kids would insult India in class. I would insult them back infront of my Pakistani teacher. She was not too happy to hear this Pakistan bashing, as she was also patriotic.She complained to my parents. My parents on the other hand felt happy that I stood up for my country in aclass full of Pakistanis plus a Pakistani teacher. They didn't even think it necessary to tell me about ittill much later.

In my school in Pakistan there used to be a 'host nation' class which obviously had a Pakistani teacher. As Iwas in the class she was delicate to India. She would tell stories about Pakistan, which bored me, likeanything. When India did something controversial for example when India wanted to test their nuclear weaponsshe told everyone Pakistan's side of the story. That I found quite irksome.

The only thing the Pakistanis had going for them at that time was their cricket team. The Pakistanis havewritten in their textbooks that Pakistan won the 1965 war against India. I suppose, they do not want theyounger generation to feel ashamed of their country. Cricket was their pride (which now a days they don't havemuch of). If India did badly, I would be mocked. Being mocked in the name of your country by a Pakistanididn't feel very good and I was too young to take it in my stride. Then Anil Kumble took 10 wickets againstPakistan. You could tell that something had happened as there was a loud shriek of "No" (in Urdu).

Many people in higher grades, though, didn't accept me as a normal human being because I was Indian. It's notas if they abused me or anything like that. It's just that I could tell that they were prejudiced. Theytreated me nicely in the beginning but started swearing at me sometimes calling me a "bloodyIndian". Even though some of these people treated me badly, the Pakistanis in my grade were kind to me.My best friend, Shahmeer Shaikh actually threw a huge party for me when I was leaving, inviting around 60people. Even though the party was not just for me (it was also in honour of my parents) but mostly it was forme. I still keep in touch with him through the Internet.

As there were many Indians in the school as well, there were many battles between the Indians andPakistanis in my school. Many of the Indian children were very good at cricket. I was an exception. But I gota little guidance from my brother and improved over time. Some of the Pakistanis were really quick bowlers.One day I came across one of the worst bowlers of all time. He was a spinner. He bowled so slow and the balldidn't even turn, and I just went down the track and smashed it as hard as I could and the ball went out ofthe playground area into the swimming pool. That boy called me a "bloody Indian". I reacted in avery violent manner. Soon the boy went to the nurse with a black eye. After this little predicament Pakistanisgave me more respect. Later on as I played more cricket I become a slow batsmen and always took my time whilebatting which I still do today unless of course in special circumstances. Except for these brawls there waspeace between my friends and I.

Many dangerous incidents happened during my stay in Pakistan. The coup by Pervez Musharraf in which he tookcontrols of the country and threw out Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif. I got a holiday from school because of it!Then there was Kargil. As it was a little risky for an Indian to stay there, my brother and I came to Indiaand stayed with my grandparents for a few weeks. My parents stayed on in Pakistan as they were working likeanything. My brother and I were a little worried. 

Then the hijacking of the Indian Airlines plane happened. Itwas not really dangerous for me, but it was for my father. He went to Kandahar to deal with the hijackers. Ididn't realize where he was until I saw him on TV. The decision for him to go was made well after I wasasleep. I had faith that nothing would go wrong. So I never was really worried. The faith came because mybrother said nothing would happen and I used to be very gullible with my brother. My father's visit toKandahar was worth a bit of fame around that time. 

Newspapers in his hometown in Ajjampur, Karnataka wrote stories on the 'Karnataka boy in Kandahar'. Ofcourse, he was all over the TV the day he landed in Kandahar. He negotiated with the terrorists as when hereached they were threatening to kill the passengers. Subsequently, there was a government team whichnegotiated and he was one of them. Thanks to him and the other members of the team the passengers got outsafely. There was one casualty but helping him was out of their reach as it happened before the plane reachedKandahar.

These three years in Pakistan were adventurous, risky and full of excitement. There was never a dull moment.Except for the classes in school! As I look back at these three years they were the best and worst times of mylife.

Aniket Ghanashyam, 13 years, is currently studying in Class IX of Sanskriti School, New Delhi