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Paying the price of visiting thy neighbour
Pakistani visitors have been held incommunicado in India for long periods of time for allegedly tampering with their visas. On two occassions those stranded in India has lost their loved ones who had been desperately seeking their release. Mohammad Hussain was one such detainee who lost his daughter, Saba, who committed suicide in protest against the non-release of her parents
By Aroosa Masroor
For Muhammad Hussain, the trip to India in March last year was his last. After the mental agony he and his wife went through in the India's Jodhpur prison for a crime they never committed, they do not wish to cross the border ever again.

Relations between India and Pakistan have never been cordial but despite that the ties that bind families on both sides remain stronger than ever.

Members of these families share one another's joys and sorrows, lend a helping hand whenever someone is in trouble and remain informed of all the developments taking place. Marriages among cousins from both sides of the border are also common. If, for example, someone dies in the Indian state of Gujarat, people gather in community halls here to mourn the death.

"These are strong family ties that have not been affected in any way," said Abdul Razaq Lakha, General Secretary of the Okhai Memon Jamat, a community mostly based in Karachi that also has members in India. "They have withstood the bad times as well as the good ones." The increasing use of internet and cellphones has made it easier for siblings and cousins to remain in constant touch. However, technological advancement can only do so much to improve communication. The real benefits have yet to be reaped, for example, the sending of gifts and money to family across the divide.

There is no restriction on remitting money from Pakistan to India and vice versa either through banks or currency exchange companies. But people who frequently undertake such transactions have another story to tell. Malik Boston, President of the Forex Association of Pakistan, insists that most people are unaware of the fact that exchange companies and banks can be used to wire money. "There is a need to educate those who use informal Hundi and Hawala (a trust-based off the book way of transferring money from one country to another through a network of brokers) channels." Anyone can remit up to $3,000 in single transaction to India, he said, adding there are no special permissions required for the purpose.

However, this is not as simple as it sounds. Exchange companies wire money to India via Dubai and other hubs, a process that swells the transaction cost and charges. "This is done to ensure that our clients in the recipient country are not harassed," said Naeemuddin, a spokesman for the Exchange Companies Association of Pakistan (ECAP). "Of course, we prefer direct transfers, which are quick and competitively priced." Complaints of intimidation at the hands of security agencies, too many questions and the subsequent fear that their clients might be persecuted force exchange companies to take a longer route for delivering money.

The growing threat of transnational terrorist financing has made matters even worse. Banks that are supposed to be the most convenient means for remitting money have imposed a kind of self-embargo in dealing with Indians. Some individual banks have made it a policy matter to not entertain requests for sending money to the neighbouring country. Many banks don't even have business correspondence with any of their Indian counterparts. Otherwise, it is a simple transaction. The sender must have a foreign currency account in the bank here and an unlimited amount can be transferred to recipient's account there. This has nothing to do with the feelings of animosity towards India.

In recent years, the money laundering scare has received much attention from policy makers around the world. Consequently, banks had to use stringent ways to scrutinise their customers, making sure they have all the relevant information -- like sources of income -- which many people prefer not to disclose. "In the backdrop of the lengthy procedure of knowing your customer better," said an official of a multi-national bank, "it is obvious that we want to avoid the whole transaction."

The recent terrorist attacks in Mumbai, blamed on militants operating from Pakistan and counter allegations against India for causing unrest in Balochistan, has made financial institutions all the more cautious. Ultimately, the traditional methods of transferring money are meeting peoples' needs -- asking a friend or relative in another country to send money to India, sending it through returning visitors and use of hawala broker are widespread. It is easy to transfer money through informal channels, explained Lakha: "Some of them only have to call a trader-friend in India and the money is delivered within hours."

For 61-year-old Bilquis Bano, the time she spent in Bangalore, India, while growing up, will always be remembered as the best days of her life. The second child of Indian-Muslim parents, Bilquis says she moved with her family to Karachi in the late fifties. "My father was an extremely poor man and he came to Karachi first to make it big… to provide us with a better life." Soon afterwards, Bilquis and her family moved to the city for good, leaving behind cousins, uncles, aunts and several other members of her extended family in Bangalore. "The first year in Karachi was very tough," she explains. "I found it difficult to make friends or adjust to life in the city."

Bilquis missed the simple ways of her life back home while Karachi was an alien territory for her but she had no choice except to get accustomed to the city. "Eventually, Karachi became my home," she adds. But, she says, she never lost touch with her family back home, even after she got married. Despite no e-mail or cellphones, Bilquis religiously wrote letters – and sent gifts -- to her cousins in Bangalore, letters that she has to this day. It was in 1991 that she returned to her hometown to attend a wedding, an experience that she calls "overwhelming" because she felt like she had finally come back to where she belonged.

Seventeen years later (in 2008), Bilquis visited Bangalore once again only to find that the city had changed drastically. What didn't change, however, was the way she felt about the city. "Everything was different when I went last year," she said, with the remnants of the streets she had walked on as a child all but gone. "But still, I felt like I was home once again because the people I had spent my childhood with were still the same… some grandparents just like me," she adds with a chuckle. Returning to Karachi just before the horrifying Mumbai attacks took place, Bilquis feels saddened by the strained relations between the two countries. "It makes harder for people like me, who left their hearts behind in India when they moved, to keep in touch with family," she explains. "In fact, it is very difficult for me to send gifts to my family over there now."

On the other hand, Qudsia, 28, used to feel a tad differently about her family in India. With cousin brothers and sisters in Delhi who she had never met (since her family moved to Karachi when she was an infant), Qudsia says there was no love lost between them because she had never visited Delhi. It was only in the summer of 2007 when she got engaged that Qudsia got in touch with her Indian family. "My mother decided we should go to Delhi and shop for my trousseau there," she explains, "and that is when I met my relatives there for the first time."

Since then, there has been no looking back for her. "I never realised that there is so much I have common with my cousins and after I went back, I kept in touch with them," she adds. When Qudsia got married in February 2008, many of her cousins made it to her wedding, a touching gesture, she adds. "It was really the best time…the days before my wedding. My cousins and I, we would stay up all night watching movies and playing board games. I took them to all the great eateries in Karachi and, of course, the beach," she reminisces. Qudsia was going to visit her Delhi family in December 2008 with her husband but the unfortunate events in Mumbai prevented that from happening. She was eager to show her husband the place where "I rediscovered myself." But the Mumbai attacks only tightened the visa process and it's a hassle that she is unwilling to take at this point.

Meanwhile, there are others like Amin who may not have met his paternal family in Lucknow for many years now but continues to send them presents such as dry fruits and Mithai.

Amin says he often has to courier things across the border because there aren't too many people going to India these days in the aftermath of the Mumbai attacks. "Nobody wants to take a risk. Even if people I know are travelling to India, they prefer not to take things because it's very difficult to trust anyone these days."

The Partition of the subcontinent in 1947, which resulted in the creation of Pakistan and India, forced millions to leave their homes and head towards an unknown destination. It is the largest mass migration recorded in history with billions crossing the line that divided the two states, while more than half a million lost their lives in the aftermath of hostilities. Tales of Two Cities is a reflection on those torturous times. Two leading journalists, Kuldip Nayar from India and Asif Noorani from Pakistan, attempt to give a personal perspective on the tragedy.

Both men and their families were uprooted from their homes in the events that followed Partition. Kuldip Nayar, who was 24 at the time, was forced to flee his native Sialkot suddenly "leaving the food on the table untouched." Being politically conscious, Nayar's recollections present a detailed picture of not only the leaders and politics of the day but also personal vignettes that elucidate the fear felt by an entire people.

Asif Noorani, on the other hand, was only eight when Partition affected his family. His family moved from Mumbai (Bombay then), three years after Partition, and was shielded from the communal carnage that broke out during those times. He retains his sense of humour throughout the narrative and manages to find a tune from Bollywood – his true vocation being a film and music journalist – to add to his unique description of events.

Nayar, a verteran journalist, was separated from his family while fleeing to the Indian Punjab and vividly describes the pangs of uncertainty separation and felt by him, as if "crushing beneath one's shoes the embers of memory." He experienced the cold brutality of the times first-hand as trains turned into abattoirs and a "story of brutal murder or gang rape did not move me any more."

Noorani had a comparatively safe passage aboard a steamer that docked off Bombay, while he looked forward to the new land with a child's excitement. His essay dwells more on his revisits to India after Partition; the problems faced by Pakistanis traveling to India and vice versa and the reception that he received.

An interesting snippet from one of his visits was during the 1965 war, when the young Bollywood aficionado enjoys the cinema in Bombay while his family back home fears that he might be a prisoner of war. During the visit, he befriends an Indian intelligence officer, Takle (roughly translated into Baldie), and the episode establishes further the latent goodwill that still exists between the two people.

The writers also talk about the metamorphosis of their adopted cities. Both Delhi and Karachi have turned into megacities – a far cry from half a century ago when they were small cities with limited opportunities; however, as both writers point out, the cities were clean back then and did not face so many environmental problems.

The Delhi that Nayar migrated to was inundated by Punjabis, and saw a pre-dominance of the "crudeness and indiscipline" of Punjabi culture over the "dainty, decent culture of Delhi". With population growth, Delhi has experienced infrastructural problems as it grows without any planning; the malls and skyscrapers, in Nayar's words, are destroying the soul of Delhi.

Noorani also fondly remembers the Karachi of yore and its people, especially the rousing reception given to Indian Premier Jawaharlal Nehru when he visited the then capital to sign the Indus Water Treaty.

He celebrates Karachi's cosmopolitanism and pays tributes to the various people and organisations working for its betterment. He acknowledges Karachi's multi-faceted problems, but makes a frank confession through Milton's quote, "With all they faults, I love thee still", a sentiment shared by many other Karachiites.

The two writers – both life-long campaigners for better relations between the two countries and its people – also point out the problems faced by Pakistanis and Indians alike to travel to the other country and make suggestions for the same. Nayar could only visit Sialkot after being elected to the Indian Parliament.

Also included in the book is Nayar's revealing interview with Sir Cyril Radcliffe, the man in-charge of drawing the boundary between the two countries. The resources at Radcliffe's disposal and the time-frame in which he delivered are a telling indictment of Britain's attitude in deciding the fate of the subcontinent.

In most Indo-Pak collaborations, one comes across divergent views. While this book also highlights different points of views, the authors are joined together by similar concerns. Both lament with equal measure the state of Urdu. Nayar contends that Urdu lost its case with Partition, and has been its biggest victim.

He bemoans the fact that chaste Urdu is no longer heard in Delhi. Noorani's concern has more to do with the new breed that tries to flaunt its English at the expense of Urdu.

Both the essays, part of a single book edited by David Page, is the fourth in a series that attempts to establish cross-border dialogue. Other titles include Diplomatic Divide, Divided by Democracy and Fault Lines of Nationhood.

The two stories, which unravel in essay form, flow like gentle tales narrated by two wise old men; and serve as an apt reminder of the pain and agony suffered by our forefathers for the deliverance of the Promised Land.

Book : Tales of Two Cities

Author : Kuldip Nayar & Asif Noorani

Publisher : Roli Books

Price : Rs545

As Shireen Junaid recollected memories of her last visit to Lucknow some eight months ago, her eyes glistened with tears. The newly imposed restrictions on obtaining an India visa has pushed back her chances of getting a visa in the nearby future, creating obstacles and preventing her from meeting her parents living across the border.

"Things changed immensely after the Mumbai attacks. Previously, the visa form required just the names of the traveller's family members and relatives whom the person was going to stay with. But now, the form needs everything from the affidavit of the Indian relative, to his passport, ration card, Election–I card and utility bills," she pointed out.

According to Junaid, visa forms are now thoroughly inspected, and officials carry out a full-fledged investigation regarding the relatives of the Pakistani national. This time-consuming procedure causes much delay in the visa process. "It now takes around three-four months before a person can finally get the golden ticket in his hand."

Like Junaid, 26-year old Murtaza Ali Wali is desperately waiting for the restrictions to be eased so that he can visit his cousins residing in Mumbai. "I have travelled to India several times alone, but in the current situation, it seems quite unlikely that a single man like me will be able to get the visa." The lengthy procedure and the 'no explanation to be given by authorities for refusal of a visa' have discouraged him from applying.

Brushing all speculations aside, Rakhsi Shahzad, a housewife, is travelling to Delhi next week, along with her three daughters. Shahzad thinks that even though the visa form now requires additional documents and details of the traveller's relatives; visas are still being granted to those who apply for it and that too on time. "Initially, the embassy informed me that my visa processing would take up to 45 days, but I was delighted when I got my visa in just 20 days. In my opinion, people are simply scared of the new application procedures and of rejection. This is why they are not applying for the visas in the first place," she said, while talking to Kolachi.

According to Shahzad, "what the concerned authorities want from the applicant is that he should provide correct information about relatives in India. The step has been taken by the authorities because travellers often go to India for shopping and as tourists, so they provide incorrect information and addresses of their relatives in the forms." Shahzad strongly believes that if an applicant submits correct documents, there will be no reason for the authorities to reject his visa.

Like Shahzad, an aged couple, Mr and Mrs Hafiz Jameel had no worries regarding the visa procedures. Planning to embark on a trip to Delhi soon, (they go to India twice a year), they said that "we get visas very easily and quickly, since elderly people face no problems in obtaining them. We are sure that the new policies and restrictions won't apply to us," they said.

Relations remain tense between the two countries given the eventualities of the past. Mrs Jalees recalled her experience of getting the Indian visa in 1999 during the difficult days, when both sides almost were on the verge of war. "At that time people had to travel all the way to the Indian Embassy in Islamabad to apply for their respective visas. Back in 1999, the Indian Embassy wasn't issuing many visas. I on the other hand, desperately needed one as I wanted to visit my ailing mother who was on her deathbed. During that time, there used to be queues outside the embassy right after Fajr.

One day, after waiting for several hours in the queue, the women got frustrated and they started crying.

I immediately took charge and did my best to control the crowd. My effort was so appreciated that the police officials made me in charge of handling the crowd for two hours," she said. This eventually won her a token for getting the visa, and within two hours, her name was among the few lucky ones called out for the Indian visa.

For a Karachiite, the air and rail links are the only ways one can travel to India.

From the Karachi Cantonment Station, the Thar Express departs every Friday night at 11.00 p.m. for the Zero Point Station on the Pakistani side of the border.

According to the Inquirer of the Cantt Railway Station, Rahbar Jalal, "The weekly train consists of one sleeper and eight economy class coaches with a capacity of 300 passengers, linking Munnabao in Rajasthan and Khokrapar in Sindh."

A ticket for this train costs around Rs350, and has to be booked one month in advance, before a passenger plans to travel via Thar Express. "The train is fully loaded, and is crammed with passengers," said Jalal.

While train links are running smoothly, air links between the two countries have suffered a great deal. According to an official of the Civil Aviation Authority (CAA), "Air India suspended their flights to Pakistan long time ago, but the state's national carrier, Pakistan International Airlines (PIA) still continues to run flights and is the only airline which operates from Pakistan to India."

An official of the Pakistan International Airlines (PIA) in this regard told Kolachi that "before the deadly Mumbai incident, PIA was running 10 flights in all.

Three flights from the Karachi-Mumbai-Karachi route were being operated with the passenger rate coming to a total of 72 per cent."

But after the Mumbai attacks, the airline reduced its flights, due to a drop rate in the passengers, a result of the new visa restrictions. According to an official, PIA currently runs five flights a week from the country. A weekly flight runs every Monday from the Karachi-Delhi-Karachi route, which now has a seat factor of 38 per cent.

Two flights are running from Karachi-Mumbai-Karachi route, every Monday and Thursday. The passenger rate for this flight has dropped down to 41 per cent, which clearly indicates that the number of passenger has declined in the last couple of months."

While Muhammad Kashif, a travel agent said that the passenger load is high, the CAA official's statement along with that of the PIA official contradicted this, saying that "Flights of the national carrier have certainly lessened after the deadly Mumbai incident. Since there is less traffic nowadays, therefore PIA has reduced the number of flights going to India."

According to Kashif, the minimum fare for the economy class of the national airline costs anywhere between Rs28,000 to Rs29,000. "Ninety-five per cent of the travellers are those ones who are going to India to visit relatives, while the rest go on business visits.

However, Pakistani nationals are not considered when it comes to sight-seeing and touring the country," he added.--RA

For Muhammad Hussain, the trip to India in March last year was his last. After the mental agony he and his wife went through in the India's Jodhpur prison for a crime they never committed, they do not wish to cross the border ever again.

Hussain is the father of (late) Saba Hussain, who committed suicide in November 2008 to protest against the injustice meted out to her parents and 58 other Pakistanis who had been detained by the Indian authorities after being charged with visa tampering. He is particularly bitter about his travel plans after losing one of his eight daughters saying 'he has learnt his lesson after he paid the price of travelling to India'.

"Life moves on, but in my heart I know if someone is responsible for the death of my daughter it is the Indian authorities," says Hussain, a resident of PIB Colony. Seven months have passed since Saba died, but the family is still finding it difficult to come to terms with her death and are reluctant to share the details of the incident with the media.

The couple had learnt about their daughter's death when they returned to Pakistan, which was a month after she had committed suicide. "Had the media projected the plight of the Pakistanis detained in India for months on an end just like they covered the suicide of my daughter, she may have been with us here today," believes Husain.  

To date, he says, he has been unable to understand why such a case was registered against innocent civilians who had travelled to India only to meet their relatives. This trip in March was one of Mr and Mrs Hussain's frequent visits to their village in Jodhpur, Rajasthan where their relatives reside.

Since Hussain's relatives insisted that they extend their stay in the country by a month, he had obliged. "Obtaining a visa from Islamabad is a real hassle so we did not think twice before taking this decision," he says. However, he remained oblivious to the fact that the High Commission of India had no information of their extended stay in the country. 

His is not an isolated case. Most often, visitors are apprehended by authorities on both sides of the border for violating visa rules that are particularly stringent for Indians and Pakistanis. Initially, informs Hussain, the embassy issues a visa valid for 30 days that can later be extended in India. For an ordinary visitor, it is also required that he report to the police within 24 hours of arrival and departure.

Hussain claims that since this was not the first time he was visiting the country, he was aware of all the rules and had not violated any, but believes the Indian authorities harassed them merely because they were Pakistanis. "After we were charged for overstaying in the country, we were taken into police custody and an FIR was lodged the next day," he recalls.

Among those held were a group of Ismailis as well, he said and it was due to the joint efforts of relatives of all those detained in the Jodhpur prison, particularly the Ismaili community in India, that they were released sooner than others held in the Amritsar Jail on the same charges. Some of them are reportedly still in Indian custody and belong to Lyari in Karachi.

Today, as Hussain looks back and reads about tensions escalating between the two nuclear neighbours particularly in the wake of Mumbai attacks in November last year, he is further reluctant to travel to India. "It is impossible to let go of family ties and we continue to communicate with our relatives over the internet and telephone, but travelling to India is no longer an option. At this point I also don't have the courage to invite them over to Pakistan because we all know how both our governments humiliate an ordinary visitor and it is difficult to plead your case before them."