"Hindustan, Jai Ho!" ("Victory to India!") The roar comes from a thousand throats.
"Pakistan Zindabad!"("Long live Pakistan!") The answering shout comes from a vociferous crowd beyond a low concrete barricade.
I'm in Wagah, on the Indian side of the border between India and Pakistan, to watch the flag-lowering and gate-closing ceremony that takes place between the two nations every evening at sunset. It is, as Michael Palin aptly points out, a hilariously campy show of "carefully choreographed contempt!" and it draws tourists from all over the world.
Indians in their tiered stands whoop jubilantly, and not to be outdone, the Pakistanis respond with equal gusto. From where I stand I can see the Pakistanis in their amphitheatre across the border. Like the Indian audience, the crowd is a seething mass of bobbing heads and waving hands.
So why this mock show of belligerence between the two nations? Well, when British rule ended in 1947 India and Pakistan emerged
as separate nations, and mass migrations of an estimated 14.5 million people followed - Hindus and Sikhs abandoning their ancestral land to move to India, and dispossessed Muslims going in the opposite direction.
It was a raw and bitter cleavage, provoking savage reprisals that resulted in 800,000 to one million deaths. Time has softened the memory of those horrific months, but the mistrust between the two countries still simmers, occasionally exploding into military standoffs in remote areas along the border.
Yet here we are today, 67 years later, watching a display of patriotic zeal that borders on the burlesque, with cheers, thunderous clapping, hoots and jeers on both sides.
The foreign visitors' section fills up fast. Throngs of tourists and media representatives wield yard-long camera lenses and rib-digging elbows as they jostle for space. I am engulfed in a forest of heads and bodies, and waving, clicking cameras.
As a warm up act, relays of women holding aloft large Indian flags race back and forth to enthusiastic applause. National anthem chants interspersed with
Bollywood songs blare over the loudspeaker.
The crowd goes wild as a young woman whirls into action, lip synching the words of a film hit, with much hip-thrusting and casting of coquettish looks at her audience. She is replaced by a group of colourful Bhangra dancers, who leap in the air, wave their handkerchiefs and invite people from the audience to join them.
An any-note-you-canhold-
I-can-hold-longer competition gets underway. From the Indian gallery comes a long holler sustained for about 50 seconds. This is echoed in ear-shattering decibels for an even longer period by a Pakistani vocalist. Back and forth it goes, until finally the Indian bawler appears to win. The crowd goes nuts, waving their flags, yelling and whistling in appreciation.
A bugle sounds and six
soldiers emerge clad in khaki with striped orange and black sashes, their orange turbans surmounted by enormous pleated crests that fan out like cockscombs. They speed-march with comical haste along the pathway, then hardstamp their feet to attention as they wait for the signal to approach the border gates.
The sun is almost on the horizon, and the moment everyone's been waiting for
arrives. The Indian soldiers speed march with a stifflegged swagger, high-kicking their booted feet to the height of their eyebrows, and take their place at the gates. The Pakistani soldiers sport black fan-tufts on their turbans, and they too march arrogantly into place. Both sides wear pugnacious expressions, and there is much melodramatic posturing - shaking of heads and stamping of feet - as they come face-to-face.
The bugle sounds, the soldiers salute smartly and the flags start their descent; both flags must come down at exactly the same rate, thus symbolizing the equal status of both countries. The commanding officers from both countries step forward, salute one another and exchange the briefest of handshakes.
The gates clang shut, again with split second precision on both sides of the border. The crowd begins to disperse as the show is over. That is until tomorrow, when it will take place all over again.
Travel Writers' Tales is an independent travel article syndicate that offers professionally written travel articles to newspaper editors and publishers. To check out more, visit www.travelwriterstales.com.
