Recently, some visitors from India crossed the Wagah border to go to Rawalpindi to participate in a wedding ceremony. It was overcast after rain, providing some relief from the sweltering weather. The drive to Wagah border is about half an hour long but it’s scenic since the road runs parallel to the canal.
Crossing the Bambawali-Ravi-Bedian (BRB) Canal and taking a U-turn near Batapur, you head towards the border. The first Rangers check post is about five kilometres from the border. Here you are asked questions about your identity card and purpose of visit. A couple of hundred yards away from it is the next check post. This is where you stop, park your car, walk to the Rangers post after providing the guards information about your identify again and names of expected guests. Next, you are made to wait in a dilapidated bus shelter, which does not have even a fan.
While you wait for your guests, drenching in sweat, you see all sorts of dignitaries in their cars whizz by without much hassle that the common man faces. You are further frustrated by the fact that the guests tell you by call that they have cleared all formalities and are waiting for the train. The train, which is actually a joy train taken from some abandoned park, offers no protection from the sun or rain and it does not have hardly any storage facility. Its prescribed route is about 200 yards or less which is covered in five minutes after a waiting time of around an hour. Due to the stringent security measures, it is mandatory that you cover this distance by train and not on foot. As if there are concerns that you would take a sudden turn to the border or back to home.
While waiting there an old man with luggage slowly comes over to us.
One is moved by his plight but is unable to assist him since all movement is restricted. Finally, after making his way to the shelter, he puts down his luggage and has some medicine with water. He starts narrating his ordeal in chaste Urdu. Contrary to appearance, he is not an Indian but a Pakistani whose visa has been rejected despite having complete documents. Besides the dejection of the rejected visa, he has to walk for a couple of kilometres to the border and back. The old man narrates the story of what he sees on the Indian side of the border. According to him, as soon as you cross over the border, there is a shuttle bus service which takes you to a modern terminal where after the documents checking, you step outside to a parking area where you meet your hosts or the public transport which is about 40 yards away.
Back to the waiting area, after what seems an eternity, you are called from the shelter and told to make your way back to the car. After having your car searched, you move to the next check post where your identity card is scanned and you are told that only the driver of the car can go any further to receive the guests. This implies leaving all other people to the bus shelter. Then you can drive to the car park, a walled mud patch, to receive your guests from the so-called train.
Why are we destined for total senselessness? Though people here are used to all sort of abuse, insensitivities and inconveniences, the question arises whether we should not at least attempt to present, if not an inspirational, some positive image to foreigners.
Unlike the people in our neighbouring country, we do not realize, I guess, that first impression is the last impression. http://www.dawn.com/news/1273043/the-ordeal-at-wagah-border
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