During my undergraduate years at RSD College in Ferozepur, Punjab, I had an unforgettable encounter that would shape my future beliefs. In 1974, the Youth Forum, one of the campus clubs, organized a picnic trip to the Hussainiwala border. Armed with bicycles, food, and games, we set off towards the edge of our nation.
As we reveled in our picnic, one of our friends expressed a desire to venture closer to the border and observe the Pakistani soldiers. Despite our initial reluctance and suspicions, we eventually agreed to let him venture out on his own.
Time passed, but our friend remained out of sight. Our cheerful spirits dissolved into worry as we frantically searched for him. Then, to our great relief, we spotted him running towards us.
“What happened? Why did you take so long? You had us on the edge of our seats,” our leader exclaimed.
Our friend, panting heavily, responded, “They caught me. They threatened to take me to their officer if I didn’t do as they asked.”
Intrigued, we pressed him for details. “What did they ask you to do?” one of us asked.
With a hint of amusement, he replied, “They asked me to dance while they sang ‘Bindiya Chamkegi, Payal Chanakegi.’ After that, we shared tea, and they let me go.”
Initially, most of us doubted his story, believing it to be an elaborate fabrication to conceal an embarrassing truth. However, years later, we discovered that this encounter had profoundly impacted our friend. He had become an ardent advocate for people-to-people contact and cultural exchange between India and Pakistan.
