The Delhi-Attari stretch is all about smuggling between India and Pakistan, if I may say so. There is no security-check to speak of at Delhi or at Attari on the way back to Delhi. Why not simply have a train between Amritsar and Lahore?
-
-
The going rate to clear an unpaid 'nil' bill, if I recall correctly, was Rs 100 in non-receipted cash in an age when you could rent a three-bedroom house in Defence Colony for all of Rs 1,000.
-
We really thought that our man in Pakistan was headed home, but while he has been back in India for months now, his heart, it seems, is still there, lingering there...else why would his travelogue still continue? Now the Islamabad-Lahore stretch...
-
Over three months after my visit, we see new PMs in both countries, POWs being returned, and signs of sensible movements all around. Pakistani and Indian Army wives exchanging pleasantries at gatherings on the IB - how much more normal does it get?
-
Remember our man in Islamabad who, last heard, was waiting for the Chief Guest at a Lahore production of the <i>Phantom of the Opera</i>? Well, he was, in his own words, "able to put the complete Indo-Pak, Hindu-Muslim pissing-competition observation
-
It was just another touristy day for our man from Delhi as he continued his peregrinations in and around Pindi till he was very politely urged not to head for Murree by two smart middle-aged men, wearing blue-grey shalwar kameez, who identified thems
-
Our man from Delhi continues from where he left off - wondering where the women are, sharing weird jokes with Chacha Green Cricket and--apart from somehow trying to insinuate something very surreptitious and secret--concluding that "even our Chinese
-
<i>"Ram Chander!! Ram Chander!!"</i>... A group of very rural looking men in white <i>dhotis</i> with big metal rings around their necks are bawling the Lord's name at every carriage as it rolls past. Later on, I am told that the ring around the neck
-
Do you love trains too? I can never sleep on them. This is one contented train whistling North. Even the variety of cops who pass through every now and then smile indulgently... Continued from <i>The Journey Of A Life Time.</i>
-
Dad passed away on the 16th of February, earlier this year. I am now 47, had more than 70 countries under my belt before I was 27, but this trip with my 18 year old son was going to be different, like nothing else before.
Advertisement
Newsletter
Signup for Outlook and get curated content to your inbox everyday.