In the grander scheme of things or the far more intricately impassioned historical arrangement, the arbitrarily partitioned subcontinent flickers in my mind. India; Pakistan; and the strip of no man’s land, contained within barbed wire.
The signal changed and my car moved forward, but I didn’t stop thinking about India and Pakistan and the 2km or so strip of unclaimed land in between. Perhaps I’m reading too much into intersections and delving into symbolic interpretations that dissolve the minute they are touched by reality. Maybe it’s because I got back from India two weeks ago, and I still can’t stop thinking about going back. Or wanting to be back. Or making endlessly fantastical plans to hop onto the next plane to Bombay.
I was in India for two weeks (from the 19th of June till the 3rd of July), for a peace conference jointly organized by the Youth Initiative for Peace (YIP) movement and the Mahindra United World College of India (MUWCI). Aptly titled ‘Challenges and Opportunites in South Asia – A Youth Perspective,’ the conference brought together a multitude of ideas, beliefs, opinions, voices...it brought all of us together as people. The shared belief at the conference was that we would take each challenge as it came our way – regardless of the negative or positive vibes it gave off – transform it into an opportunity, replete with positive energy and send it back, into the world.
The ten-day long conference was held at the MUWCI campus, at Paud, near Pune. Atop a scenic mountain, surrounded by an abundance of vegetation, misty rainfall, and brilliant albeit rare sunshine – it was hard not to instantaneously fall in love with the place. Immediately upon getting there, we were given maps of the campus and assigned rooms (two facilitators and two participants to each room). Much of that day was spent in calling home, wandering around (getting lost), learning to identify names with voices and faces. (Prior to the conference, the participants and facilitators had already begun the process of getting to know each other through an online e-group.)
The conference was initiated with an inaugural ceremony on the 20th of June. Michael Shank from World Culture Open outlined the five C’s affecting conflict engagement and the solution of conflict through mediation and peace-promoting measures. Commitment, Communion, Creativity, Conflict, and Competence – these contour our life and fashion our existence – likewise, they gave shape to the conference. The ten days that followed next can (very) inarticulately best be described as a whirlwind; as an inexplicable moment; a flurrying blur of activity.
The conference schedule itself was gruelling, to say the least. Immediately after breakfast (which was at 8.00am), every morning, a theatre workshop cum trust-building exercise was conducted by Feisal Alkazi. These workshops were planned as a part of the morning exercises, taking place before intensive discussion forums, creating a high level of energy for the exhaustive activities that formed the core of every day.
Trust-building-exercises would work on a multiplicity of levels; from discussing ‘hopes and fears’ to sharing intimate stories, to ‘trust groups’ and ‘trust circles’ – the synthetic barriers seemed to melt away, inhibitions faded, layers of animosity and prejudice seemed to slip into obscurity as we grew to know each other as people; shared experiences and escapades; trusted each other; taught and were in turn taught; learnt and re-learnt; exchanged ideas and beliefs; argued; disputed; learned to listen; learned to let go of pre-conceived notions and rigid stances; grew together as people; as Yippies (Youth Initiative for Peace-niks); as comrades, for ultimately, Indian, Pakistani, Kashmiri, German, Mexican, American, Dutch – we all came together – as ‘citizens of the earth.’
A mesh of varied workshops were located at the heart of the conference, all working around different angles of focus, and demarcating diverse issues, yet the fulcrum of the conference remained Kashmir. A Kashmiri friend of ours said, “The violence in Kashmir can be likened to an ocean that spreads its waves along the shore, engulfing land and making it a part of itself – violence too spreads itself out and suffocates the region in its bleeding grasp.”
These workshops were spaces for (heated) discussions, endless debates, shattering of beliefs, and exposition of ‘history’ as misleading and false, juxtaposition of two polar views. And of trying to reconcile those two polar views of reaching common ground, reliable and dependable ground that wouldn’t reveal hidden mines, and concealed bursts of jingoism in the guise of nationalistic pride. Human needs were redefined and delineated; need for meaning; connectedness; security; recognition; action.
From looking at the (very significant) role of the media involved in exacerbating and de-escalating the conflict, to reconstruction of history, to discussions on discrimination, power and prejudice. From role-playing and simulation exercises (simulations are make-belief situations and settings, which are structured to bear some resemblance to real problems and environments) about Kashmir and nuclear programmes to writing “I”-messages and conflict mediation training. The essential values and principles of an ideal community were outlined; respect; understanding; honesty and trust; communication. Documentaries such as ‘War and Peace’ and ‘Ram Ke Naam’ by Anand Patwardhan were shown (followed by a discussion with the filmmaker), films such as ‘Vox Populi,’ (a short film about the filmmaker’s trip to Lahore) by Vinay Sitapati and ‘Aakrosh,’ a film on communalism and the Gujarat riots were screened.
Peace education exercises were conducted by Michael Shank, alongside workshops on conflict analysis and resolution, and Activism 101. These workshops centered on understanding power dynamics, identifying violence, deconstructing prejudice, mediation and conflict resolution skills, and eventually led towards building just communities by being ‘change agents.’ Michael’s workshops would usually start, and sometimes end with ‘organic sound exercises.’ The group would form two concentric circles, standing in utter silence, listening and focusing upon the sounds that made up their immediate environment. The sound would be reproduced, rhythmically reverberating louder and/or softer as the mood depended. By the end of the exercise, all involved would be using their entire bodies as a means of expression. We learnt the importance of integrating the maxims of ‘Educate, Empower and Engage’ in all our future initiatives. Michael, (the big friendly giant), who taught us how to be reflective and active; verbal and visual; global and sequential; intuitive and informational simultaneously. He taught us how to dream. To speak the universal language. To communicate. To unite. To climb fences and break barriers. To fly without the fear of falling.
I remembered my favourite trust-building-activity; groups of six would be formed, fashioning a ring, creating a ‘trust circle.’ One person stood in the center (with his feet placed together) – with eyes closed and arms crossed in front of his chest – and leaned forward or backwards creating a swinging momentum (similar to a pendulum). In essence, he couldn’t do anything to prevent the free-fall; he had to trust the circle of people around him to keep him from falling.
Trust. Respect. Honesty. Understanding. Communication. (“Put yourself in someone else’s shoes and walk around in them” – to kill a mockingbird). I learned to integrate these within me, pouring them into my life, my views, my ideas and beliefs. I learnt how to write my name in Hindi. I visited ancient temples and let the serene beauty wash over me, soaking me in its historic charm. I learnt to understand that not everything can be demarcated along lines of black and white; I learnt to comprehend the existence of shades of grey.
The shared historical heritage was examined with great detailed perspective. A trip to Aurangabad was arranged, where we were treated to the sight of the gorgeous cave temples, carefully preserved at Ajanta and Ellora. Cave paintings depicting scenes of the court, the kingdom, shrines, and war were found at Ajanta while at Ellora we witnessed the astounding carvings, which displayed brilliant skill and craftsmanship, dating thousands of years back.
The last two days of the conference were spent defining and discussing post-conference-initiatives. Where do we go from here? What happens after the conference? Do these ten days lead up to anything else? We all felt that what we had shared was too precious and important to be lost somewhere in the annals of memory and space, but must be preserved and shared with the rest of the world.
Saying goodbye is never easy. How do you say goodbye to a place that became your home? How to say goodbye to people you just might never see again? Those people who at first seemed so ‘different’ and ‘alien,’ those people who you lived with, ate breakfast every morning with, whispered goodnight to before falling asleep, laughed with, exchanged jokes and stories with, traded myths and folklore, told and re-told stories, those people who now seem like an intrinsic part of you, a part so precious that you can’t think of not preserving it within, preserving with loving care. How do you say goodbye to memories and moments? How do you let go of power and enthusiastic charge and love, all of which swirl around you, overpowering you with sheer energy? What does one do then, when numbness settles in? When you can’t think about the word ‘never’ because it’s just too final?
The way you relate to a place has much to do with the feel of the place itself. I’d known that India is very similar to Pakistan and simultaneously very different too, but I hadn’t anticipated the various parallel levels of similitude and concurrently divergent portals of distinction. A lot of it had to do with not feeling the foreign-ness of a different country but rather associating and identifying with the geography and topographical landscape of India. It rarely felt different or alien except for the signs in Hindi (written in the Devnagri script) which served as constant reminders that we were in India; a separate and different country. We would more often than not get away with being temporary ‘Indians,’ blended together by our (almost) identical looks, mingling accents, clothes, and absolute ease with one another. Someone confided to me in Bombay that the reason he felt so comfortable in India was because “it’s the only country apart from my own, where I can speak my own language and be completely understood.”
Post-conference home-stays were arranged in Bombay. Our flight back to Karachi was on the 3rd, but we realized the strength of Indian allure merged with bonds of friendship and discovered airline agencies and ways of visa extensions. More than half of the group from Pakistan stayed back.
Bombay was absolutely wonderful, yet at times I found myself drifting off onto another tangent; reminiscing and re-creating the conference within the confines of my head: “Kashmiris can be divided into two basic groups of people; those born after 1983 and those before ’83 – those born after have never known even a moment of peace in their lives,” said Ritu Dewan, a lecturer at the conference. I was leaving Bombay in a few hours, I hadn’t finished packing and when I’d close my eyes I found myself unable to open them for exhaustion. I was at marine drive, and I remember the moon shimmering in the waves at 3.00am. I recall shifting shadows and the delicate sea-breeze...
Voices echo around me, infectious laughter reverberates around me; memories chase each other round and round within me. The movement for freedom, the fight for preserving beauty and holding on to ancestral heritage, the initiative for peace, and the struggle for justice – I found myself thinking of far pavilions, and smiling. For the magic that surrounded me and became a part of me for two weeks will somehow inspire and empower me, us, to get through. I remember a song from camp:
“Allah keh bandey hasde
Allah ke bande hasde
Jo bhi ho kal phir aayega”
« return.