“Borders are scratched across the hearts of men, by strangers with a calm, judicial pen, and when borders bleed we watch with dread the lines of ink along the map turn red”

– Marya Mannes, American Writer (1904-1990)

As 2014 has ended and we welcome 2015, I think about the events during the last year that have impacted me the most. One particular event which has left a lasting mark on my mind, heart and soul was crossing the border between India and Pakistan.

We started 2014 by crossing the Wagah border from Amritsar to Lahore, by foot. A short distance of 10-15 ft holds within it the struggle of millions of immigrants, the tears of hundreds of thousands of divided families, and endless travel and visa restrictions. A short distance but a long journey to undertake.

My family and I are one of the many victims of this man made border and this journey was a sad and bitter reminder. As my family stood in Amritsar to say good bye to us a few feet away my  aunts, uncles and cousins stood to receive us. Siblings, cousins, nephews, and nieces, standing a stone throw away, estranged with tear filled eyes. Divided by a set of iron gates and a barrage of visa and requisite clearances.

The flurry of emotions I felt as I crossed these few feet I have never felt traveling across the world, crossing thousands of miles. As we moved forward to cross over, I remember thinking this was the most unnatural thing I have ever experienced. No act of God or Nature can create such an artificial divide between people, hearts and landscape.

We were one of the last passengers to cross the border. After the immigration counters close, and the gates are closed between the two countries, the Wagah border turns into a site for unabashed chauvinism The ceremony is a huge tourist attraction and slowly the stands on both sides filled up with thousands of people. We decided to stay on and watch the ceremony.

In a short while the calm silence was taken over with patriotic songs, blaring on loud speakers from each side. As we took our seats we could see distant glimpses of our loved ones sitting in the stands on the Indian side. Tall, uniformed Indian and Pakistani soldiers have been carrying out the choreographed routine of the border-closing ceremony since 1959. It is a full-fledged mass performance, played to a gallery of several thousand every evening. As Indian soldiers and Pakistani rangers compete in goose-stepping, a major domo on either side exhorts people to shout patriotic slogans.

Amidst the cheering crowds on both sides, there was a steady stream of tears in the eyes of a few. A few who can still feel the pain of this division, who still face the consequences of divided families, who still have loved ones on both sides, who are a sad reminder that this border was not God’s will nor an act of nature………but a man made tragedy.

The multitude of crowds that comes to see this border ceremony and refresh their patriotism have long forgotten the wounds and the legacy of the partition. They only see the continuing rhetoric of enmity, betrayal, and suspicion that the two countries rehearse against each other. The border closing ceremony at Wagah acts out the rhetoric of hate…….drowning all tears and voices of love.

But soon…… there will be no teary eyes left in the stands, there will be no one to remember the tragedy that has been penned down, there will be no loved ones left across to catch glimpses of ….there will only be thousands of cheering crowds who will come to see a theater where India and Pakistan rehearse their chauvinistic hatred for each other.

I am an optimist, I do believe one day these gates will be open to all, there will be no penned border to divide us, but as we cross over there will no longer be a loved one eagerly waiting to hug us…….the generation and families that shared the pain of this division will no longer be there to witness the joy of unification. We would have finally crossed the line…….