| It was an unlikely backdrop for such a venue; it consisted of a massive reproduction of the Alamgiri gate of Lahore’s Fort and covered the entire stage wall of the Vigyan Bhavan in New Delhi. The date was 21 April 2001 (just over two years ago), and the occasion a celebration convened by Indian Sikhs to mark the bicentenary of Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s coronation that had been held within Lahore’s fort soon after he had captured it two hundred years earlier. |
| I had been invited to deliver the keynote address at the convention, and I found myself scheduled to speak after S. Khushwant Singh and before the chief guest the Indian Prime Minister Shri Atal Bihari Vajpayee. Of course Khushwant Singh’s speech was as irrepressible and witty as his articles, and as mischievous and irreverent as only a literary doyen of his stature within India could dare to be in the presence of (and occasionally at the expense of) his own prime minister, who had been brought to power through a coalition with the Sikh Akali Dal party. |
| I realized that as a Pakistani Muslim I would need to be more circumspect, for not only would I be addressing an audience congregated in that hall of right-wing, hyper-political Sikhs, but the entire proceedings were being broadcast live across India on Doordarshan TV. I decided to take my cue from the immense ochre-orange backdrop of the Lahore Fort and opened my speech with a Punjabi adage: Jine Lahore na vaikhya, au jamiya nahin / Anyone who has never visited Lahore has never been truly born. |
| I noticed the Prime Minister whisper something to his Sikh host (he was asking for a translation), and then make a few notes while I was making my speech, in particular when I said: ‘In 1999, you undertook an arduous bus yatra with the city of Lahore as your destination. On the night of your arrival, you spoke within the Lahore Fort (Ranjit Singh's fort) and heard your counterpart recite your poem advocating co-existence. I listened to you again the following afternoon, on the lawns of Government House, when you addressed another larger audience.” |
| “During your speech that afternoon, you had asked: What can be achieved in only twenty-four hours? And then you answered yourself with another question: What cannot be achieved within twenty-four hours? Similarly, one could ask today: What could anyone achieve within only one lifetime? And yet what cannot be achieved within a lifetime? Maharaja Ranjit Singh demonstrated what one man could achieve and did, even in the face of discouraging odds. Sir, both Maharaja Ranjit Singh and his Foreign Minister Fakir Azizuddin learned, and therefore never forgot, that diplomatic relations between states are rarely smooth and never free of pitfalls, especially if they happen to be between neighbours.” |
| When it was his turn to speak, the Prime Minister began by alluding to my opening remark, saying that he had been to Lahore and therefore regarded himself as fully born and alive. “Fakir-sahib has reminded me of my bus yatra to Lahore,” he continued. “I went there with great hopes,” he said, “but then…”, and he let his voice trail into a descent of failed expectations. [EXTRACT] |
| Publsihed in DAWN 12 May 2003, and reprinted in WHEN BUSH COMES TO SHOVE & OTHER WRITINGS (2006). |
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