ON the last day of 2014, Indian coastguards blew up a dhow in the Arabian Sea, which the country’s defence minister claimed to be a Pakistani terror boat though the media on both sides remained sceptical. Intemperate gestures were par for the course for much of 2015. These included ferocious ceasefire violations that largely hurt civilians. Gross statements from the military brass on both sides crowned the bout of bad behaviour.

Soft moments came along. They included India sharing the grief with Pakistan over the massacre of school children in Peshawar, and the return of a mute girl to Delhi after years of caring in Pakistan. With little hope from dominant realpolitik, peace activists on both sides found relief in Bajrangi Bhaijan, a tearjerker from Bollywood. The Shiv Sena expectedly remained a reliable antidote to the socio-cultural brouhaha in concert with Hafiz Saeed and co.

As the year drew to a close, India-Pakistan ties appeared to be anchored in a less turbulent comfort zone. The beaming smile of Indian Foreign Minister Sushma Swaraj in Islamabad will hopefully remain a defining moment in the fluctuating bilateral ties. Her report to the Indian parliament back home was equally important. She told the inattentive MPs that war was not an option with Pakistan, and that talks were the way forward to remove the hovering shadow of terrorism between the two.

As if this was not enough, Prime Minister Modi himself stopped over at Lahore to have a quick word with his Pakistani counterpart, using social media to disclose his plans!

For much of their seesaw engagements over the years, there has been something intractable between the two. Their parleys follow random speaking lines rather than a cogent dialogue, much like the mainstream Indian movies, which habitually lack a script.

Moreover, the diplomatic stories and the cinema­tic stories are often glued together by ‘item numbers’. It’s Kashmir one day, Afghanistan the next, and terrorism another.

Such dialogues often become a ventriloquist’s art whereby the dramatis personae appear to speak the lines but the voice is someone else’s. Was it Washington or was it Beijing or could it be that both brought them together to the dialogue table.

Does Modi speak for himself or is he being guided by right-wing antibodies in his establishment in dealing with the troublesome neighbour? Who then commands the hawks to step aside and pushes a more sensible peace agenda back to the centre-stage? Is Prime Minister Sharif hostage to his army’s unrelenting India-centric worldview as is widely claimed? Was that the spoke in the wheel in a clutch of Sharif-Modi parleys, secret or otherwise? Has the inclusion of a military man to head future talks for Pakistan undone the damage?

In the cacophony of ventriloquists, real or imagined, how should we regard Ms Swaraj’s role? After all, she played with ease the spoiler at the Agra summit. In the last year of Manmohan Singh’s rule she harassed him to fetch 10 Pakistani heads for the scalp of a decapitated soldier from India. Was she speaking her own lines?

As the late Moin Akhtar portrayed the Indian politician in his memorable satire of her, she could be coy with words when required. In the early days of the Vajpayee era, Ms Swaraj was spotted on a private visit offering prayers at the Katasraj Temple near Lahore.

And then she became the life and soul of mirthful Basant festivities on a Lahore rooftop where Benazir Bhutto had just left.

Now she has told the Indian parliament that war was not an option with Pakistan? Was it ever? If so, could it be an option again? How durable or verifiable is the new promise? The answer may depend on who the ventriloquist was, if there was one, who may have spoken the lines that Ms Swaraj delivered. If the Indian foreign minister has a mind of her own, on the other hand, which is not unlikely, then we must keep a close watch on her next mood swing.