Of wars

How long will India and Pakistan play this hate match. Since 1947, we have been at each other, sometimes as India and Pakistan, sometimes as Hindu and Muslim. In me school times, ACC (Auxiliary Cadet Corps) was a must. In college times, NCC (National Cadet Corps) was a must. In ACC, we lefted-righted the kerchief of a school ground. Sardar Sarwan Singh, who had a special dislike for me, bellowed: Bharat Mata ki Jai. We bellowed, swinging arms, righting and lefting shoed legs with chests out (me earned hard raps as the chest never could breathe out). At NCC in college, an army man made life hard; mornings marched the Maidan; the lone command me liked was 'Vishram'; one could rest a second. Came the standing before a field gun; diving on to it full tilt; firing; always missing the target; me was good at the target of  the friend beside me; changing bullets from a hot container. And the lecture bajee on killing. You kill before you are killed. Me never understood any of it. Waited for the damn show to end, for a quiet Charminar and tea in earth cups from a Bihari who was always there under the banyan. He lived with the cheap demeaning hatred of Bengalis for Biharis. Calcutta has more Biharis; Mumbai more from UP; both are termed bhaiyas like all from the south are madrasis. And in October 1962, me became a patriot as China roamped into India. Me wanted to go to to war. Left-right at a furious pace in the Maidan. At the Madian stood in a line for army recruitment; more for the job than for love of the country. Was rejected for poor eyesight. An army man took away my specs and me could see nothing. 'Kuch kaam ka nahin hai, Sir' he said and that was it. As a journalist, read of Indo-Pak wars at the business desk of Times of India and other papers. Patriotism steamed away. And today at 71, me think of the futility of the hates and guns. Does it make any sense? Have the wars any winners? There were no winners in Mahabharata. Ended miserably for Krishna and Pandavas, the victors. Rama won the Lanka war and despatched Sita to the forest. Perhaps, the bhakti poets of the 6 th century in the south, Tuka, Kabira make more sense. Me reads Kabira and Tuka again and again. But they are not icons like Rama and Krishna. Today, it is fashionable for India to abuse Pakistan and vice versa. Ye, a must for living in both nations. Soldiers are brave, all soldiers. Do they not blink and titter at the first gun shot? Are they not nervous ahead of a battle? And should they not, being humans? Which soldier in India and Pakistan wants to die? Of course, they are patriots. Patriots are first civilians, unwilling to die, like me. Armed forces is a job, a very high risk job for all Indians and Pakistanis. Emotions come second. Me would not like me son to join the forces. Never. Will 21st century go hating each other? Will there not be a India-Pakistan cricket match at Eden? And if they can play in England why not in India and Pakistan. Pakistani hockey players dribble on Indian grounds; but Pakistani cricketers cannot in IPL. Queer indeed. Perhaps, the lone beneficiary is the corporate making arms. And they will decide. Today, Tatas, Ambanis, Mahindras are into weapons business. US weaponers are liberal with Pakistan. Trump dislikes Muslims yet supplies arms to Pakistan. For them hatred and wars bulge balance sheets. Governments on both sides may often be reluctant but not corporates. Hatred pays. An old habit, a stylish, loud way of living, since gods were imagined or born. Sir, Sir, Sir. Till date has not heard Madam, Madam, Madam. It wont go, will never go. There will be exceptions: Gandhi or Liu Xiaobo.