Learning to love in a culture of hate: My Pakistani-Indian identity
During the past few weeks, I have attended a series of events at Yale University, sponsored by various South Asian organisations. These included a dance and music performance in celebration of Diwali, a screening of the movie ‘Manto’, and a talk by Raza Rumi, a well-known Pakistani journalist.
At each event, I was impressed and fascinated by the fact that Indian and Pakistani students and faculty members worked closely together, and the students lived with each other harmoniously.
This was in sharp contrast to the war mantras and aggressive policies that are so prevalent in our countries back home; this made me think about my own identity.
My father is a veteran of two wars; he fought for Pakistan in 1965 and again in 1971. As a child, I frequently put his war medals on my chest with pride and dreamed of joining the army to fight India.
Even though I grew up in a moderate middle-class household, from early childhood, I was taught by my school and society to hate India. And although the country had become a symbol of hate, we never failed to enjoy their Bollywood movies and music.
It was not until 2007, when I visited New Delhi that I realised that socially and culturally the two nations are almost identical.
Other than the Devanagri script on shops, sign boards and hoardings, and women riding on scooters, nothing seemed to be different here.
Also read: 6 surprises that greet a Pakistani in India
However, in India too, prejudice and fear were deep-rooted. Most of the hotels and bed-and-breakfast places in New Delhi refused to give me accommodation. I was forced to stay in a noisy, dirty and cheap motel near Jamma Masjid, because that is where “all Pakistanis stayed”.
The animosity between the two nations, sowed in young minds at an impressionable age, runs deep. When I came to the United States for my medical residency, I was initially cautious, careful and even a little suspicious when I had to interact with physicians of Indian origin.
It took me a good few months and many interactions to get close to two associates, Sialaja and Shivana, who later became my closest friends at the Child and Adolescent Psychiatry at Long Island Jewish Medical Centre.