Lalin’s Column:Pakistan Zindabad India Jai Hind

From Colombo Fort to Rawalpindi and back by train for military training in 1964 - Just before Xmas 1963, I was informed by my battalion adjutant that I had to proceed to Rawalpindi, Pakistan to follow a Regimental Signals’ Officers course in the first week of January 1964.

Notice to move.

I was told to proceed to AHQ immediately. The next morning I reported to an indolent Capt Dole in charge of movements who told me without batting an eye lid that he did not know anything about my course. He checked with the Operations and Training Branch which educated him. Dole then told me to report after Xmas to be given movement orders.

Minimum preparations

I went home to Ambalangoda, spent Xmas with my mother and siblings and reported back to AHQ on 26th Dec, only to be told by Dole that I had to go by train as no plane reservations were available at short notice (as though it was my fault) and should leave the next night. I asked Major (later Brig) Denis Hapugalle who had done his Staff College course in Quetta, Pakistan for some tips. He told me that the Paks ‘were men amongst men’ and it would be ‘bloody ‘cold’ and that the tennis shoes there were super. I had packed my woollen battle dress; pull over, combat jacket, fleece lined leather gloves and army great coat, together with my rubber soled army boots. It wasn’t quite enough as temperatures there dropped to near freezing.

Echelon Square contretemps

Before I left armed with a railway warrant and a princely Rs 50 equivalent in foreign exchange to proceed from Fort Colombo to Madras, I dropped in on my brother Eshin (later Major) at Echelon Square where the First Sinha Regt was based. There were stirrings there. Four months later, on my return, I came to know that the Fort Police had been ’invested’ that evening in January.

Talaimannar to Madras by steamer and train

I travelled from the Fort station in the Night Mail to T’mannar station. An Indian steamer (SS Ramujon?) was already docked at the pier. I had breakfast with my Sandhurst friend Lt (later Lt Col) Satchi Ratnasabapathy, Artillery, at his troop base. I returned to join the boat queue at the very end eschewing unofficial ‘privileges’ on the two hour run. By courtesy of Indian Immigration at Rameshwaran I missed the connecting train for which I had a first class berth reservation. I was invited to join five Delhi bound ladies who I noticed had been noisily commenting on my ‘privileges’ at T’mannar. The next train to Madras did not have even second class seats and I was forced to travel 3rd class sleeperette, a nerve wracking experience in a country where 200 children are born every minute. My seasoned companions however knew how to lock in the sleeperette so that no one else could get in. Throughout the night a rollicking pre planned barter trade was conducted at selected stations. I remember bottles of ‘Horlicks’ being in great demand by their Indian friends and saris by our side.

At Egmore station Madras which we reached around 5 pm the next day we parted our separate ways. They gave me a contact in Delhi which I made nearly 4 months later on my way back. They have continued to be my friends ever since, though most of them ended up in the UK.

Mr Karunaratne in Madras

Mr. Karunaratne of the Deputy High Commissioner’s office met me and very kindly invited me home to stay overnight. During dinner I was grilled by his wife’s sister, a Wadugodapitiya, a stunningly pretty undergrad and her friend who were on holiday from Peradeniya. They wanted to know how I as Buddhist could serve in the Army when its objective was to ‘shoot’ and ‘kill’. I found it nigh impossible to make them understand that the Army was only a deterrent to those who would harm the country and it did not exist only to ‘shoot’ and ‘kill’ and that too only if the situation warranted it. (They had found out that I was a Buddhist by asking me directly in true Sinhala style whether I being a Fernando was also a Christian).

Madras to Delhi by train

I left Victoria station next morning for Delhi but this time I had a sleeping berth. I met flying officer Balu Shanker (BS), a pilot in the Indian AF from Dum Dum air base Barrackpore, Calcutta. He had with him a bed roll but no berth and it was with some difficulty, surprisingly, that I persuaded the others in my compartment to give him room to spread his bedroll on the floor of the compartment to avoid sleeping in the carriage corridor. His father too was in the IAF and based in Delhi and had been one of the pilots that flew the newly acquired Hawker Hunters Britain readily gave India after the 1962 debacle against the Chinese in the Aksai Chin mountains. Yet BS could not avoid being as brash as Indians normally were when they spoke to their neighbours and insisted that the Indian Military Academy Dehra Dun was ’tougher’ than Sandhurst, even though recent events made such comparisons invidious and very ludicrous.

Delhi. Suhith Gautamadasa

On the second night it got colder the more we sped north and I could not sleep well as no blankets had been provided. We reached Delhi Central station around 7am . The porters in their red turbans urging thousands of passengers and other porters to ‘chalana chalo’ (push on) as they barged forward, were an unforgettable sight.BS dropped me at our High Commission. After much standing in the cold while ringing a bell I was finally allowed in. Luckily for me (late) Sumith Gautmadasa, second secretary (later Ambassador) took me in his charge, invited me home and got his servant Akbar to take me around the sites of that fabled city. I saw the Lodi gardens and the Qutb Minar where I saw many girls and boys trying to wrap their hands round its trunk for luck. I recall the holes in the ceiling of the royal court of the last Mogul Emperor, Bahadur Shah Zafar at the Red Fort which had decorative arches and cupolas. Akbar told me it was the work of the British soldiers who looted it during the final bloody stages of the 1848 Indian ‘Mutiny’ now referred to as the first independence uprising. I also saw the garrison soldiers taking part in traditional dancing as a recreation

Delhi to Amritsar

The next night I boarded the night mail to Amritsar but without blankets again. Apparently one had to order them from the station master giving 24 hours notice. A Sikh gentleman in the same compartment then went over to the station master’s office and tried to get one but the store’s manager was off for the day. The Sikh compartment man (cleaner?) then spontaneously offered me his blanket. I declined after thanking him profusely. There was something about Sikhs that was not only famously and fiercely martial but spontaneously generous. After a near freezing ride but protected by my great coat we reached Amritsar the capital of the Sikhs even when they ruled the entire Punjab under Ranjit Singh. The Lion of the Punjab ruled up to and including Peshawar in the North West Province of India until the arrival of the British. The Sikhs lost to the British after fighting two wars but just. It was said that another such victory would have forced the Brits out of India. The two sides then forged an alliance second only to that which the British had with the Ghurkhas for much the same reason. Both races stood by loyally to the British during the 1848 ‘Mutiny’.

Wagah border crossing

The train to Lahore reached Wagah the border post in the late morning. The passengers got off the Indian train and crossed the border to get into the Pakistan train but not before the railway guards on both side with their .303 inch rifles slung, embraced each and the passengers who were making the crossing either way. Noticing no one was hugging me, one of the Sikh guards came over and did so ! There was no military or any other show at the border like there is now. I did not see any soldiers at all. Lahore was just 12 miles away. I had a long wait for the train to Rawalpindi, the interim capital 180 miles away. I observed as I waited that the Pakistanis were generally better dressed than the Indians but hardly anyone was reading anything, news papers or books.

Rawalpindi - A SL Reception

I got into Pindi around 6 pm ad looked around to see who had come to receive me. There was no one. Shortly thereafter I saw quite a few Pakistan military officers coming my way but was disappointed when they brushed past me. They came back soon escorting foreign military officers of the UN Indo Pak Observer Mission (UNIPOM).

Standing spare outside the station I was wondering how to get to the School of Signals. I heard my name being called and soon identified Capt WM Weerasuriya and Lieutenant SJ Weerasena (both later Majors retired respectively) of the Ceylon Engineers who I knew from Sandhurst days. They were under training at Risalpur. They got hold of a taxi and directed the driver to the school. We spoke in Sinhala. The driver interrupted and said ‘kohomda Colomba?’ He told us he had lived there for 20 years!

Having installed me in my quarters in the Signals Officers Mess they took me to meet Capt (later Major General) Kamal Fernando who was doing his Long (18 month) Telecomms course and his wife Ruby. She had got employment in a local school where one of her pupils was the daughter of the Pindi DIG who was often seen going around in an open jeep wearing dark glasses. Later on we were invited to the DIG’s place for tea .In the absence of her parents their daughter, maybe still not 12years of age, did the honours with aplomb and the confidence of an adult, ordering and pouring the tea and serving ‘samosa’. She also played some classical music for us. I was later also invited to lunch at the Finance Minister’s in one of the first houses that existed in Islamabad at that time. The Minister was from East Pakistan now Bangladesh and his son was my younger brother’s pen friend. Islamabad was then still only a pile of bricks but the Pakistanis were determined to outclass Delhi.

Pindi in winter

I returned to my freezing quarters. It was in the middle of winter and there was no semblance of any heating. Neither was there any hot water for bathing. The first was solved the next day by buying a two bar room heater. I was informed by my Pathan batman orderly Aziz (‘Stalwart’) how with a couple of razor blades and some electric wire a type of ‘immersion’ heater could be made. I was given a warning that it could kill if I touched the vessel in which the water was being boiled. There used to be complaints by neighbouring officers about sudden electricity downs. This accelerated the purchase of an immersion heater. When Aziz (Pathan) went off to his distant home for Ramazan (Eid) he reported late courting considerable disciplinary action. He pleaded with me not to inform the Adjutant (Commandant’s staff officer).I didn’t. Capt Rajah Delgoda 1Sinha had been on the same course before me. He had the mortification of having to identify his push bicycle which his batman had ‘borrowed’ and abandoned when the Military Police raided an out of bounds joint. The soldier got 28 days detention.

School of Signals –Instructors

In the class room a lot of the teaching was about physics which found me struggling but ‘private tuition’ by Kamal who was first in his class and took to communications like a duck to water, helped me to keep up with the others. My instructors were late towering Capt Javed from the Punjab Regt who was also a basket ball player of repute who died of a heart attack in his early 30s, and Major (later Maj Gen) Riaz Mahmood Pak Signals who was brilliant. Riaz started off his classes by saying ‘Don’t waste time by taking notes. Just listen to me first and if you cannot understand ask me’. We learned well. In 1978 he as Brigadier visited SL with the Pak National Defence College course. I was fortunate to be a liaison officer for the visit. At Anuradhapura he told me while we were at the Samadhi statue that he had left his camera at the Sri Maha Bodhi. Fearing the worst, I immediately informed the Military Police. They were back with the camera in a few minutes. It had been secured by a monk. Brig Riaz keeping me pacified throughout, told me he was never worried about losing it as he had left it in a sacred place. My affection for him was not misplaced.

Cold weather warfare

I remember having a problem with the principle of super heterodyning which I overcame by learning what it meant by heart. We were also taught the use of US army radio equipment which like the Patton tanks (M47) with computerised fire controls were the rage in the Pak army. We used the hand held PRC (6 & 9) and vehicle mounted GRC (87) series which were the latest in military communications and the old British C12 which my regiment replaced with Brit HF 156 radios. The biggest problem in the class was the freezing temperature. We wore great coats over our uniforms and woollen gloves in class. During my time in Pindi it snowed after 30 years and there was also an earthquake after 12 years. No guessing who was blamed for it. The class room was heated by what was called a Quetta stove which was placed to a side of the room. The Pak officers used to wrap themselves round it during the class breaks and appeared not to care that a guest officer from the tropics was also shivering. Apart from that the class was friendly.

Friendly forces

I made some very good friends like Munir u Din (Punjabi), Zia u Din (Bengali), Ahmed Farook Khatlani of Iranian ancestry from Karachi and Sameen Jan Barbur (Pathan). Khatlani was a scamp but a good officer who later died in the battle of Kanjarkot in the Raan of Kutch (1964), a prelude to the 1965 war with India when he went forward under machine gun fire to rescue a wounded soldier. Zia, a Brigade Major (senior operations staff officer in the Brigade) went across the Punjab battle lines in the 1971 war to join the Bangladesh army and then disappeared from public view disillusioned with what the politicians did to his country. There was also Abu Thahir (Bengali) a quick tempered man who having lost a leg in the 1971 war, later led a mutiny to establish a socialist army in independent Bangladesh and was unfortunately hanged for his efforts. I remember him almost coming to blows with a Punjabi officer.

‘Black man –certainly not’ – (Lt Khatlani)

Khatlani in a land that took very unkindly to ‘Eve teasing’ tried many times on his way back to the mess on his bicycle, to impress a girl at a school. He was ignored each time. One day I cautioned him to desist. She misunderstanding me turned and being at a loss for words could only say ’you, you, you black man!’ Khatlani immediately shot back and said ‘don’t ever say that. He is an Allied Officer from the Ceylon army’. I saw the look of shock and possibly regret on her face as the esteem and stock of my country was always very high in Pakistan. She had probably thought I was a Bengali officer. The Chief Instructor was Mansoor Ul Haq who later became the Army’s Chief Signals Officer, then on retirement head of Pak Telecoms (followed by Riaz Mahamud) and was finally in charge of Overseas Pakistanis. The Commandant was Col Choudhury.

Field training –winter

The course had class room work and practical training including radio exercises both on foot and in vehicles. One night exercise was in the area of the Mangla Dam. The cable laying final exercise caused some concern as it was known the cable path would be taken purposely across a near frozen stream, testing one’s ability to lay cable as well as doing so in extremely uncomfortable circumstances.

One or two officers refused to lay cable saying it was a soldier’s and not an officer’s job. This came as a surprise me as officers had to set an example. Having come prepared as advised by colleagues, I stripped down to swimming trunks which had been worn under the battle dress trousers, removed my boots and stepped gingerly into the water, reeling out cable from a drum. Once in the water it was not so bad even for a tropical Islander. The directing staff, showing streaks of ‘sadism’ enjoyed themselves even more by getting battle scarred Jemadhar instructors to cut the cable. This they did time and again with glee and revelled in our misery while we searched in the icy stream for the line break and then repaired it. However the sun shone through out, unlike my previous experiences in the UK in the wet and cold. It was enjoyable too, (sadistically?) seeing others struggling!

Fasting

Major military exercises were held often purposely during the fasting period of Ramazan. Our final exercise was too. At lunch time I was told to get into a truck with its canopy closed and eat in the pitch dark. I was warned that should anyone see me eating there would be ‘boda’ trouble. That night I saw the breaking of the fast (aftari).It was a Mogul feast which made up and more for the strains of the fast. I decided to join them in fasting beginning with the morning ‘seri’ for the rest of Ramadan to the joy of my comrades who then asked me to become a Muslim.

Dr Rex de Costa

Kamal and I were lucky to meet the late Lt Col Rex de Costa, a doctor of the wartime Ceylon Defence Forces who had been invited to a reception by the Pak Ex Servicemen’s Association in the Signal’s Mess. He was a towering personality being over 6 foot tall. The others had gathered around and listened intently to whatever he said. He greeted us in Sinhala. It was he, a well loved doctor of Deniyaya that the JVP killed in 1971 just because he had treated a wounded policeman.

Field Marshal Ayub Khan

FM Ayub Khan was the President of Pakistan then at the peak of his popularity. His autobiography ‘Friends not Masters’ was considered ’famous ‘by some and naive by others. The Pak officers used to say of the Americans who were backing Pakistan ‘their money our blood’, a cry I am sure they repeat with greater conviction now. I met the founder Commander of the crack Special Service Group (SSG) Ghulam Mohamed (?) who for a moment mistook me for one of his own as I too was wearing anklets (gaiters) with my boots. The Pak and Indian Armies did not do so but the SSG did. His successor came over to Diyatalawa in 1971 to advise us at the fag end of the Insurgency. During the LTTE scourge the SSG helped in the training of our Special Forces. (SF) The renowned SSG Commander late TM (Tariq Mohamed) was popular with our SF too.

Tennis and squash and sprinter Abdul Khaliq

Kamal and I played a lot of tennis coached at times by a specialist who later wanted me to get him a job in SL .I also played squash with Munir who excelled in it. The Paks were world champs. There is a village that produced endless world champs like Kenya does in long distance running. Munir having been a Military Academy champ, outclassed me but my game improved tremendously. We witnessed the Army athletics meet and saw Havildar Abdul Khaliq dubbed the fastest in Asia after the 1954 Asian games win the sprint events. He had been a semi finalist in the sprints in the Rome Olympics and in Melbourne at the Commonwealth Games.

Murreee

We visited Murree their hill station, 55kms from Pindi. It was covered in snow but we were told it was quite pretty in spring.

Pindi to Lahore

I was attached to the Long Telecomms field training course that went to Lahore nearly 300 kms distant. Their equipment especially the antennas were very impressive. We crossed 3 rivers of the Punjab, Jhelum, Chenab and Ravi. One bridge over the river Jhelum north of Gujranwala was probably a mile long. On the way we had lunch off the beaten track at the Hiran Minar (Deer Tower). The heat was beginning to be oppressive and we were caked in dust.

Lahore

Lahore was fascinating. We saw the beautiful Shalimar Gardens with its 41 fountains, lovely flowers and varieties of all the fruit trees of the Punjab. The famous Zam Zama (Kim’s gun) ‘terrible as a dragon and big as a mountain’ was made in 1776.The Badshahi Mosque that had the beauty, passion and grandeur of Mogul works was built by Emperor Jahangir in 1757.It was the largest mosque in the world until 1986. Its four 176 ft minarets are higher than those of the Taj Mahal. The high light of the stay was the Tattoo and the Lahore horse and cattle (and camel) show at which FM Ayub was chief guest. We saw exciting tent pegging contests with riders racing in and lifting pegs off the ground at thundering speed. Their horse riding skills, second to none, have been inherited from the Moguls and the Mongols.

Folk dances

We also saw folk dancing by the turbaned soldiers who formed a circle with drummers on the inside. The first was the very popular, vigorous, formless bhangra (a bit like our baila) by the Punjabis . It had the audience tapping and clapping. It originates from the harvest dance of the Sikh farmers. It is a celebratory dance of both Pakistanis and Indians and has spread all over the world. Then came the wild and fierce khattak dancing by the rangy Pathans. It reminded us of the Afghans who used to dance on the Galle Face Green at the end of Ramadan in the 1950s .

It held us spell bound. They had long swords in their hands and twirled around making evil sword cuts and thrusts. Legend has it that before battle the Pathans capture an enemy, cut off his head and keep it on a large metal plate which is in the centre of the dancing circle. It is covered in ghee. As the dancing becomes wilder, a fire is lit under it. It makes the head bob up and down. It drives the Pathans into a raging frenzy. The leader has only to point in the direction of the enemy (which I did not doubt was India) and off they would go to attack the ‘dushman’. The Bengalis performed one of their delightful national dances which appeared to be semi classical like munipuri .It was received with great applause. We also for the first and only time saw and heard 1200 drummers and bagpipers. Kamal counted them.

Khyber Pass

We visited Landi Kotal at the highest point (3510 ft) of the Khyber Pass, ‘the sword cut through the mountain’ where ‘every stone is soaked in blood’. It was a caravanserai throughout the ages , lying between Kabul and Peshawar in bleak terrain bereft of even a blade of glass. One could get copies made of any gun (‘Khyber guns’) and most electric goods at duty free prices there. These were delivered over the mountains to any part of Pakistan by the Pathans, by passing Customs’ checks. On the way up along the Pass through which Darius, Alexander and the Moguls passed south there were notices that said “The government of Pakistan is not responsible for anyone who strays more than 5 yards off the main road”. The reason being that legally it was tribal (Afridi) land and their laws by agreement prevailed over that of the Pak Government. The code of the Pathans was clearly exhibited at the bottom of the Pass. It read ‘Hospitality’ (to all), ‘Asylum’ (even to an enemy) and ‘Revenge’ (the Old Testament ‘eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth’). The courage and the bloodletting ferocity of the Pathans was legendry. Even their best known Afridi love song has three people being killed. They are men who value honour beyond life.

Taxila

We also visited the well preserved ruins of Taxila, 32 kms from Pindi, an ancient city from Gandhara times, which also had a Buddhist university. It is today a world heritage site. The Gandhara (now Peshawar) sculptures which thrived during the reign of Emperor Kanishka (2nd century BC ) are probably the most exquisite and beautiful examples of all Buddhist culture and art. They form a part of Pakistan’s heritage now.

Peshawar and 12 Frontier Force Rifles-Havildar Ghulam Sarwar

Lieutenant Yusuf of 12 Frontier Force (12 FF) invited me to visit Peshawar. For the second time I crossed the bridge over the Indus at Attock where it is said Alexander the Great crossed at that point. The Pakistan SSG was now also menacingly (!) based there. Alexander then crossed into the Punjab over the Jhelum River to do battle with the Indian king Porus (Purahito).

At the 12 FF (earlier Punjab Irregular Force nick named famously Piffers) officer’s mess which had a beautiful garden full of roses, I observed two decorated ebony elephants placed on a table in the middle of the ante room. I was told that two of their boxers, brothers called Sarwar, had won them in the then regular Pakistan v Ceylon boxing meet(s). A few years later I came upon the visiting Pak boxing team in Chatham Street. On speaking to them and of my visit to Peshawar and the 12 FF, unexpectedly one man shyly introduced himself as Havildar Ghulam Sarwar. I shook hands and got back to my corner!

Yusuf drove his scooter far too fast. It went off the road into a field where I observed a young boy tending flocks with a shouldered rifle. No Pathan male other than a small child was seen without a weapon on pain of being called a woman. We had dinner of chapatis and chunks of meat in Rope Maker’s street. Seeing my hesitation to eat the meat that moments before was hanging from the roof with myriad flies covering it, my hosts asked me if I was worried. Looking at their well over 6 ft hulks I gulped and said ‘no if you can eat it and are so healthy, why should I worry’. Throwing years of caution to the winds, I joined them at dinner even as the flies thrived!

Radio Ceylon

In Pindi I recollect going with course students on their scooters to small ‘boutiques’ to have chapatti and chicken tikkas. They being smartly dressed always, wore suits. In the cinemas I was happy to observe that they served only hot Ceylon tea during the interval. When anyone bought a radio in Pakistan they would conclude the deal only if it connected to ‘Radio Ceylon’s Urdu service. Unfortunately it made some believe that Radio Ceylon was based in India.

Pindi club

The Pindi Club was full of military officers over the weekends. There used to be some dancing too but of men only! The Pak officers looked enviously at the Anglo Pakistani ‘Chota’ club as they called it, where there was a lot of fancy dancing but they never went there due to ‘protocol’. Everyone knew when the Adjutant General Atiq ur Rahman came in to the Pindi club as most of the young officers ran into the barber’s saloon in fear that they would be pulled up for having long hair.

G man

One day an officer came over to the mess, introduced himself to me and asked whether I was from Ceylon. When I said I was, he invited me to come to his place for tea as he intended to visit soon. I humoured him.I suspected he thought I was Indian and appeared to be some sort of an ill disguised but embarrassed G man doing his duty. We drove to a smart looking housing block and over tea, chicken tikka and nuts; he satisfied himself I was from Ceylon. His questions were unimaginative. I doubt if he ever visited.

Cricket -first ODI

During Ramazan we formed a Ceylon Forces team to play GHQ Pakistan on the Pindi grounds. Our team consisted of 5 officer cadets from PMA Kakul who used to make use of my room to sleep whenever they came to Pindi .They were the over 6 foot Jayantha de Silva who became a junior under officer and came 3rd in the PMA order of merit and to my mind was the most brilliant officer we ever had, Srilal Weerasuriya who later became army commander, Jaliya Nammuni (later Maj Gen) HM Karunaratne and Dalkin Samidon (who both left the army early to go abroad) , the two Engineer Weeras from Risalpur, Kamal and I and two officers carefully chosen by GHQ Pakistan probably as a punishment on a holiday. They being patriots dropped catches and scored nothing. GHQ had a Pak test cricketer. He scored a century and they won. As it was during Ramazan the Paks left immediately after the match without any socialising which was a pity.

Pakistan Republic Day Parade 23 March

I was free for nearly 3 weeks after the course was over as I had been forgotten by my army and the High Commission in Karachi. I used to watch the Pakistan forces prepare for the Republic Day parade every day. I was taken up by their insistence on precision and the endless rehearsals. I recall the parade commander repeatedly calling out to a battalion CO ‘take your battalion back and march it in again. For a subaltern they were sweet words to hear - of the flak reaching up high.

Senior Tigers: First East Bengal Regt

After the parade we did the round of all the messes of all regiments which were under canvas to congratulate them on a super parade. I accepted the invitation of the First Bengal Regt (Senior Tigers) for lunch. I observed that Col Osmani the most senior Bengal officer who I had meant several times before and also when he was in military hospital was being welcomed by all Bengalis with a great deal of affection. He became the first Bangladesh army commander. The adjutant Capt (later Brig) Siddiqui asked me to tell the Pipe band to play whatever music I wanted. The next time we met was in 1978 at Queen’s House Colombo after a state banquet for the President of Bangladesh Gen Zia Ur Rahman. I was an additional ADC. Brig Siddiqui had asked Army Commander Lt Gen (later General) Denis Perera who was at the dinner how he could meet ‘Lt Fernando who was in Pindi in 1964 ‘. Gen Perera knowing I was down stairs said he would arrange it and as they came down the stairway after dinner pointed to me and said 'that’s your man! Siddiqui later came home and had tea with my wife and family. We spoke about the time in Pindi and life in Bangladesh. He was sadly not able to tell me anything about my friend Zia u Din except that he was missing which he appears to be even today. I was told Zia was disappointed that Bangladesh had not fulfilled its promise because of the politicians.

Lt Munir-Lahore

On my return journey I was met at Lahore station by Lt Munir u Deen who with his very pretty girl friend (in a land of many beauties) took me to lunch at his cousin’s home. We had a super lunch and a lively conversation. I realised that in their homes the women held sway even if they were not seen around much outside. He took me back to the station for the journey to India that evening.

Gurduwara- The Golden Temple Amritsar

At Amritsar I visited the Sikh Golden Temple. I was escorted by a young Sikh volunteer who told me matches and cigarettes were taboo. He showed me the Granth Sahib their holy book. It is read 24 x 7 x 52 nonstop by a relay of readers. To make sure no page is unread by error, the new readers start on the previous page read by the outgoing reader. The Sikh and Muslim religions have similarities as they both believe in One God. There is an abiding mutual respect for each other with the Punjabi language linking them further. The Sikhs fiercely believe that if the Indo Pak problem is left to them it can be solved. All visitors are customarily invited to dine in the Gurduwara. I had to decline as I had asked two Germans who had come in the train with me to join me for dinner at the station. I took the night mail to Delhi.

Delhi - Mr. Murthy

In Delhi I was very well looked after by a HC officer Murthy. He arranged for me to visit GHQ Indian Army. At a garden party I met two Sikhs who told me that they had been in Anuradhapura and knew the ASP there Mr. Ekanayake. They were pleasantly surprised to know that the Ekanayakes were well known to me too as my home was there for three years during the time my father was District Judge.

The treasured memory of my stay was visiting the indescribably beautiful Taj Mahal. It took 20,000 workers 22 years to build. I visited it again with my wife 35 years on and it was just as lovely and breathtaking. Tagore wrote “only let this one tear drop, this Taj Mahal, glisten spotlessly bright on the cheek of time forever and ever”.

Talaimannar again

I returned to Talaimannar via Madras (Chennai) and was met by Lt (later Gen and Army Commander) Gerry de Silva of my regiment unrecognizable at first as he was sporting a moustache. It was a diversion from the boredom of duties there. I was given a few days leaving before I reported back for Anti Illicit Immigration duties.

Men amongst men

I had been away for nearly three months in Rawalpindi with what may then have been the best army in South Asia with ’men amongst men’. I had to prove it was all worth it. It was time I got the regimental signals operating loud and clear.

Even as I recall my happy days and good friends in Pakistan I despair as to what went wrong in that land of the ‘Pure’ that held so much promise in 1964 especially now that I have the joy of living in my own country without the scourge of 30 years of unremitting terror.

- Asian Tribune -