(Note- This is an anecdote, covered in two parts only.)
In my various blogs, I happened to mention about my Himalayan foot hill city, where I am staying permanently. As on this day of the year of 2026, this city has fallen into the grip of the rapid Urbanization. Now its transforming into a metropolitan city in deed. But till the year of 2000, it was in its old traditional form. A quiet, slow pacing city and was known for its beauteous climate. Denizens consisted of old inhabitants, a good deal of numbers of mixed communities like Punjabi, Baniya, some other migrants from neighboring cities of plains sides. Original denizens were in fact whose forefathers had basically migrated from afar hilly tracks and settled here long ago.
With the passing of time, a big number of migrants from the hillside areas outnumbered all other communities. It had no surprising reason. They had a born affinity and right to be settled here, as it’s also being the part of Himalayan region. A good deal of number from high lands were basically of people, who in search of employment had opted for armed forces, para-military forces and other governmental and non-governmental jobs, distant away from the birth place in other provinces. But most of them, on retirement chose to build their houses here in this foot hill city and settled here.
It didn’t mean that they broke away there all relations from the original p,ace of the birth. Still, they are in habit to visit their parental villages in high land. This tradition they are maintaining from generation to generation. As far as my personal matter is concerned, I was born and brought up here in country side like my forefathers. No doubt, if I go back to my roots, my place of origin is also from the high land. Since more than twelve generations of my forefathers been staying here only, hence that connection is not so much stronger as it should have been. By being born, nourished and cultivated in country side ambiance, inside my heart still I am a rustic man.
Long back, I had built an abode in the suburb of this foot hill city, that area is now like an orbit city. The anecdote I am going to relate, in fact was narrated to me by an elder neighbor of my locality. The gentleman ‘B’, who recently been passed away. When I heard about his sad demise, this anecdote at once flashed into my mind. It may bother the reader, why I gave this long introduction prior to begin with this anecdote. That fact, reader may realize with the span of this anecdote ahead in the description. This gentleman ‘B’ had narrated this anecdote near the year of 2011. At that time he was living a retired life after completion of service as sub- Inspector from a para military force, CRPF (Central Reserve Police Force.)
He was a ranker. Ranker meant, a person who joined a force from the lowest rank as a “constable,” but by obtaining promotions on merits reached to a certain dignified post in hierarchy. Myself being a civilian, happened to meet him occasionally. as a civilian, I ever fostered a curiosity to know about the “working culture” of his past life in para-military force. Once, I queried him that his being posted in Central Reserve Force, very probably, he might have been lucky enough to get posted on different afar provinces of our huge Nation.
Upon this, he jovially responded, ” you are talking of being posted inside the country only. Err.. I too have been posted in Pakistan for some weeks.” His this revelation was somewhat awkward to me. Since, Central reserve force were not supposed to be sent in Pakistan. This enhanced my curiosity. I reacted,” how it could be possible sir?’ Upon that, he became somewhat serious and said, ” in that posting, I also encountered with an emotional and shocking incidence. That incidence has been inscribed deeply into my memory lane. That story I am going to relate you. ”
From here on wards, the rest of the description of the story, reader will come to know, in his words only. He began, ” my late father long ago bought a piece of land on which our this residential property is erected here. It was bought about more than sixty years ago. At that time, this locality was like a backward village. But we all siblings used to stay back along with mother in our hill side village. That was the place we were born and brought up. That place is Lance down, a part of the Pauri Garhwal district, once known as British Garhwal.(Lance down is a famous beautifully organized tourist spot also renowned for army regimental recruitment and training center. Surrounding villages of the area claim themselves as Lance down villages.)
He continued, ” After the Indo-Pak war of 1971, all the diplomatic relations between India and Pakistan had been abolished. But again the ice broke and in the year 1976, the diplomatic relationship were revived. There in Islamabad fresh Indian High Commissioner got reinstated. After that, in the year of 1977, Indian government agreed to open its office of consulate in Lahore. At that time my Central command was deployed in the capital region of Delhi.Till that time I had completed my seventeen years of service period in the Force and also been promoted to the rank of Assistant sub- inspector.
Our Unit were ordered to accompany the convoy of trucks that were transporting all the necessary bag and baggages like files, furniture, tools , home appliances and everything, needed to establish a new office of the consulate. Even a needle was sent from here. It was done with intent to avoid local purchasing and to prevent espionage or bugging which could be installed by the secret service of Pakistan in Consulate Office.”
He paused for a while and began, ” on the day fixed, the convoy of trucks loaded heavily with luggage set on. As you know, in Central Para Military force recruits come from different provinces. All they too have got their own dialect, culture and food habits. The same was in my Unit. Such members of Force are given to make their own group of friend circle depending upon the mother tongue, culture and food habits. There I too had my one colleague who belonged to the Garhwal region but from some other district. It helped create an intimacy between us two. He too was the part and parcel of the same detachment to the Consulate.
This sort of movement from one place to another was a common part of our service. But this time, we were somewhat “thrilled,” since Pakistan was a foreign land to us and we were going there on VISA. Well, eventually we arrived to our destination in Lahore. Our Unit remained engaged in installing of furniture and other official affairs. First week elapsed in that busy schedule. After that we were given a free signal. Every Consulate have had its own distinct “official staff” and they begun to work accordingly.
Now our duty was in security. Every person was bound to attend an eight hours security duty in shifts. After that we were at our own will to pass our time. For we had been in Pakistan for the first time, we too longed to see the Lahore city about that we had heard a lot back in India. We both, I mean my Garhwali fellow and I bagged permission from our senior official to have a walk in the city. We were granted permission but advised to remain on alert.Specifically, we were instructed not to move beyond the confines of the city. Secondly, we were suggested that Pakistan’s service agency might keep a vigilant eyes on Indians, hence when to converse, try not to emit any word that may sound against the Pakistan’s establishment. Thus, on one evening, I along with my chum started our loitering visit to the market of old Lahore city. (End of the Part 1st. Cont’d.) Penned by — Vinay Pharasi —–
