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INTERNATIONAL

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Thursday, November 10, 2011

Ronnie Philip was the first Indian Hassaan Zafar ever spoke to - and vice versa. Here, the two students from Mumbai and Lahore write about their ground-breaking initiative Ummeed-e-Milaap with its joint Diary Campaign and technical qualifier competitions aimed at bringing together the youth of India and Pakistan. Its clearly time both governments heard this voice and introduced exchange programmes for students - a sure way to remove the festering misconceptions

Ummeed-e-Milaap: shattering stereotypes, the GenX way

The initiative expanded and we envisaged a technological, ideas and cultural exchange between Indian and Pakistanis students. And we decided to bring a Pakistani contingent to Techfest Mumbai
conceptualising the initiative and its execution. Thus was born Ummeed-eMilaap (hope for unity). After months of intense planning and execution we launched the Diary campaign in over 30 colleges in Mumbai, Lahore and Karachi to un-mute the voice of the youth of both nations. During this journey, each heart we touched brought an awareness of the thoughts that brothers and sisters across the border have for them. It gave a momentum to our team as a whole and we began having deeper relationships with our partners. The initiative expanded and we envisaged a technological, ideas and cultural exchange between Indian and Pakistanis students. And we decided to bring a Pakistani contingent to Techfest. We launched qualifier competitions at LUMS Lahore and FAST Karachi. None of us had any idea how many Pakistani students would be willing to be part of the initiative and come to India. The kind of support that we got was manifested by FAST Karachi initiating the National Robo League for the first time, and receiving an enthusiastic participation of over 46 teams. An incident that would stand out happened in LUMS where a Pakistani robot participated in the race with an Indian flag waving on top of it. The gesture moved every one of us and will always remain a cornerstone of the initiative. All the participating teams were so enthusiastic about coming to India that even their universities were ready to fund them for this initiative. With the overwhelming response for Ummeed-e-Milaap from the youth of India and Pakistan, it surely has been a step in the correct direction. It reinstated the fact that the youth of both countries are ready for a change and its easy to remove their misconceptions. The fact that the social media has helped me and my co-managers make many Pakistani friends on facebook, with whom we interact regularly, just emphasises that Peace is not that tough to achieve.

Connecting the dots

By Ronnie Philip

By Hassaan Zafar

It took me all of 15 seconds to decide that I was all for this peace initiative. I started to telephone Ronnie Philip but cancelled the call. I punched in the number again...It was the first time I ever talked to an Indian
phone Ronnie Philip. Then something struck my mind and I cancelled the call. Should I talk in Urdu? I punched in the number again. Deciding to play cool, I went for English. Conversing very formally we talked about the peace initiative Ronnie had mentioned. He sounded as enthusiastic as I was after reading his email. It was the first time I ever talked to an Indian. I assured him of complete assistance from my side. When the call ended I felt a bit nervous. I should have talked to my team first to ask if they agreed. Was I committing to something I wouldnt be able to do? Would my team give the approval? I decided to make a formal plan about the collaboration with Ronnies help. When I presented it to my team, they loved the idea. Everyone supported it. A series of calls and emails with Ronnie resulted in conceptualising this initiative. I was now conversing with him informally in Urdu, just as I would with any of my friends here. With people from IIT Bombay wishing me Happy Independence on August 14th and Eid Mubarak, all the stereotypes were being proven wrong. The question now was, what should we call the initiative. The name had to be powerful enough to touch peoples hearts. With suggestions from both sides, we finally agreed upon Ummeed-e-Milaap. The initiative had two parts: the qualifier event for Techfest 2012 for which we invited teams from all over Pakistan to participate in a robotics competition, and a Peace Diary which had to travel across MumbaiLahore-Karachi inviting the youth to comment and give their messages to the brethren across the border. Since our semester was to start late in September all we could do then was to talk about the details and finalise them. With a very short time for execution we got the LUMS administrations approval on this. I was a bit worried as that was a potential hurdle, but as they say, where theres a will theres a way. Our administration applauded the initiative and despite the time constraints, they helped us firm things up. Ummeed-e-Milaap, which was initially just found in my inbox I saw it happening. We announced our event and got an overwhelming response. Around 25 teams registered for the event with just one weeks notice. While decorating the venue, we decided to put up Indian and Pakistani flags together as the theme. Since participants were from different cities of Pakistan, I wasnt sure what their response would be at seeing Indian flags around. Nervously we received the participants and to our surprise found them very much at ease with it. In fact, they appreciated our team for this wonderful initiative. A team from about some Pakistani students going to India. It was all about such gestures of peace from the participants, expressed also in our mission statement: There is no way to Peace Peace is the way. I would like to thank all those who helped make Ummeed-e-Milaap a success. Aneeq Zia (President SPADES) and Farrukh Feroze (Executive Officer SPADES) worked tirelessly for the execution of the event. The LUMS administration gave its complete support to make it a success and of course, the invaluable help of Ronnie Philip and Anish Sankhe from across the border. My experience with this initiative not only cleared my misconceptions about the youth across the border but also about the youth in my own country. What the common man wants is peace and prosperity. Taking this vision further, we at SPADES plan to continue this interaction and are planning to invite Indian students to participate in our annual Science Olympiad, Psifi12. I believe that the youth c a n change a lot of things. As a student I w o u l d humbly request both governments to introduce academic and cultural exchange programmes for students so that the coming generations can remove misconceptions that have festered for the past 65 years. The writer is General Secretary SPADES (Society for the Promotion and development of Engineering and Sciences). Email hr.psifi11@gmail.com

The journey so far

azar mein rehtey pull it off. After putting in place ho... The catchy tune some strong groundwork beand lyrics of the Aman hind us, we passed the first hurki Asha anthem on television dle: convincing our institutes caught my attention as I lounged authorities. This was followed by my on my sofa this February. The song highlighted the striking first interaction with Pakistanis. similarity between the people of I was introduced via email to India and Pakistan and inspired people like Dr. Pervez Hoodbme to stand and be counted in hoy, Beena Sarwar, Dr. A. H. the quest to bring together the Nayyar. I was really happy to people of India and Pakistan. see their enthusiasm as they We, the young citizens of the pledged to help make our initiacountry, should be the torch- tive a success. Soon, I received a call from bearers of this effort. Within a month, I was pro- Hassaan Zafar, a student at Lahore University of vided a unique opportunity to Management Scimake this dream into ences (LUMS) in a reality when I was i Pakistan. This was made manager of Mumba my first conversation our institutes sciwith a Pakistani. We were both ence festival, Techfest. Each one of the 21 man- excited at the opportunity to agers are given the opportunity talk to each other and were inito state their vision and what tially at our formal best, trying they aim to achieve in their to be as polite as possible. The short tenure of nine months. My ten-minute conversation ended vision was: To unite the stu- without any tangible conclusions, but our message was subdents of India and Pakistan. Well, life throws you sur- stantiated. I just felt at complete prises. One of my co-man- ease with Hassaan, never for a agers, Anish Sankhe, had the moment felt that he was differsame vision. It was our delight ent in any way. We talked several times to see the whole team rallying behind this initiative and pledg- after that to conceptualise the ing support to achieve our initiative. The response from dream. But how were we going Hassaan and his friends made to put our thoughts into ac- it clear that even they were tion? We felt clueless, there looking for such an opportuwere uneasy realisations about the complications: Post 26/11 (the attacks on Mumbai), are the citizens allowed to cross the border? How would we get in touch with any Pakistani? What would their response be? Would my calls be monitored by nity, wanting to play a role in police authorities? Looking back, I find these driving home the message of peace to the youth. Things apprehensions laughable. After a few brainstorming started looking up. The Aman sessions with my mentor Jatin ki Asha IT Committee helped Desai (a journalist, and the us to connect with student most optimistic and helpful per- heads of AIESEC Karachi and son I have ever met), we started FAST Karachi, with whom we to feel that we might be able to enthusiastically partnered in

n eye for an eye makes the whole world blind Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. My father taught me the meaning of this quote when I was in the seventh grade. I used to wonder why the world seems so ignorant of these words so simple and yet so meaningful. For years I thought of the

Lahore

Students for peace: A robot with an Indian flag at a technical competition for Ummeed-e-Milaap at LUMS Lahore; (Left) students at a Diary Campaign inauguration at IIT Bombay; (Right) students at an event in Mumbai. If everyone starts interacting on a personal level, they will start to realise that the brothers and sisters across the border are just like their own. This realisation needs to dawn upon each one of us. Together, our might will easily overpower the forces that try to separate us on the basis of borders, region and religion. Our common appeal to the youth of both nations is: explore and find out for yourself what people across the border are like, rather than having biased opinions about them from the extremists. Join the youth wagon to bring a change, a change to lay the foundations of a peaceful tomorrow. Ummeed-e-Milaap: There is no way to peace, peace is the Way. The writer, a student at IIT Mumbai and a manager of TechFest 2012, is one of the driving forces behind Ummeed-e-Milaap http://www.techfest.org/hom e/ummeed_e_milaap | Email: ronnie@techfest.org people living across the border as enemies. As a child when I watched Bollywood movies, which like every Pakistani I am a big fan of, I used to ask myself, how can someone who looks just like me and talks like me be an enemy? I remember that June day this year so clearly. After returning from my internship, I checked my email. My inbox contained an email from a guy named Ronnie Philip. It had travelled to me via Dr A.H. Nayyar (a faculty member at LUMS SSE) and Beena Sarwar of Aman ki Asha. The email talked about a student level peace initiative between IITBombay Techfest and students at LUMS; it invited SPADES (Society for the Promotion and Development of Engineering and Sciences, a student run organisation that I am a part of) to collaborate in this regards. I am usually not quick to make decisions but it took me all of 15 seconds to decide that I was all for it. Without contacting my team, I started to tele-

GIKI even insisted on running their robot with the Indian flag on it to send a message of friendship across the border. Thus came upon me a moment of realisation that the youth which makes up the majority of the population of both countries wants peace. I felt the essence of Ummeed-e-Milaap. It wasnt about arranging a robotics competition, nor was it

A schoolboys story 1946-1947: Part II

By Iftikhar Malik

The kindness of strangers

us but my cousins were anxious, worried and always kept the curtains of the room drawn. They never stepped out but I ventured out in the verandah and one day went around the house. It was a big house with a long driveway and lawns around it. Dal roti was our preferred meal and I tried to keep the room spick and span. I was wearing the same set of clothes with which I left School and did not have a change. My cousins used to threaten me that they would report me to Mr Grewal if I upset them on any count. One day he did visit us, I was left motionless when the bearer told us that the Sahib was coming. It turned out to be a pleasant visit much to the disappointment of my cousins who thought he would upbraid me for annoying them. I cannot remember how long we stayed there but it was an awfully long period in one room with little or nothing to do. I felt listless and only when some of the DCs staff told us from time to time that a plane would be coming to take us home would there be some excitement and noise in the room. Days passed and we settled into a routine. We did not have any news what was happening which added to our misery. One fine morning we were told that we would be taken to the airport to take the plane. We got ready but it was a disappointment as nothing happened. A few days later the exercise was repeated. An older person would have his nerves all jangled with such developments but we were young and quickly went back to normal life in the room with the drawn curtains. Finally on a beautiful day Mr Grewal Singh rushed us to the airport in his car followed by a police escort. In a short while we reached the airport and in the distance on the horizon saw a plane coming in. It was the first time I saw a plane in real life. sadness for the persons left behind and how It landed and came close to us near the air- would they manage. We were among the port building and the doors were opened few that got across safely. with the engines running. Out stepped my The plane took off smoothly on this, my Uncle Khalid wearing a suit. He saw us, and first plane journey. I could pull open a little called out to us to run to get in. He got off, cylindrical window cut in the big window. met Mr Grewal, exchanged a few pleas- put my arm and hand out and feel the antries and re-entered the plane. As the breeze. It was wonderful. After a short plane taxied on the runway, the doors were while I was taken to the cockpit where the still open. We were seated in the front part pilot told me how the plane went up and and whilst it was down. Amazing, I readying to take off, thought. The journey The momentous events of lo and behold, we to Lahore was over in saw that it was sur- 1947 uproot an eight-year-old about 30 minutes or rounded by several At the Airport boy from boarding school in less. hundred men, my father along with Simla until he can return women and children my Aunt Saliha, of all ages who safely, months later, to his mother of my cousins wanted to get on. a few relatives family on the other side, still and These were Muslims received us safe and staying close to the wearing the uniform he left with sound. It was a joyairport waiting to ous and happy reunitake the train to Paknon. istan. It was an amazing sight with people The get together with other relatives trying to enter, some did and some clung and friends took place at Uncles residence. onto its wings and undercarriage. It could Lots of mubaraks and gratefulness to Allah not move. were expressed. Suddenly I realised my Mr Grewal Singh who was watching, mother was missing. She could not come went up to the crowd and with kind, gentle from Rawalpindi. My Aunty noticed that I words with the help of the police brought was feeling that I was not part of the homesome order. Yet people were clinging to it. coming celebrations and stood silently in a Gradually with great difficulty it started corner wearing the same shirt and shorts moving, the doors open as the staff could when I left School, now stained and quite not close it because of the people trying to filthy. To cheer me up she asked if I would enter. It started gathering speed and from have a squash. I nodded and followed her the window I saw people fall off from the to the pantry for the drink. That gesture rewings. One had held onto the roll bar in the mains as a pleasant memory of my days. doorway and was pleading and crying to let My father and I motored down to him in but that was not possible; the staff Rawalpindi via the village. Many villagers pushed him out with force and closed the came to see me and wish me well. In the door. We were jam-packed in the aircraft. nine odd months away from home the only My immediate reaction at that time was of language I knew was English, Punjabi and

he jeep groaned past the Bazar and onto the Convent on the outskirts of Simla, where my cousins Farida and Asma were waiting clutching handbags with a few nuns. The officer got out of the jeep, met the nuns and escorted my cousins to the jeep. Somewhere past the Ridge we were transferred to big black car. In the evening we found that the ferry at Ghaggar had closed and we had to find a place to stay overnight. The officer rang a bell at a small house in an Army compound at some distance from the ferry crossing and asked the lady who opened the door to keep the children for the night. She was a kind Hindu lady and let us in and gave food. Her husband an Army officer came in late but we were fast asleep by then. I was given the sofa in the drawing room whilst my cousins presumably had another place to sleep. Early the following morning, I awoke to see a huge Alsatian dog sitting on his haunches, head cocked and looking at me lying on the sofa. It was not aggressive but had a loving look. I stretched out and got close to it and hugged it. It stayed close to me during breakfast and went with me to the car where the officer was waiting. With a big thank you to our hosts we restarted our journey, crossed the Ghaggar. After a few hours we reached the residence of the Deputy Commissioner, Ambala and were lodged in the guest room. Years later I came to know that the Deputy Commissioner was Mr Grewal Singh, an Indian Civil Service officer, a friend and colleague of my Uncle Khalid, the father of my cousins travelling with me. Mr Grewal met us the following morning and said that we would be living with him till evacuation was possible. I had a vague notion then of what was in store for

Urdu were forgotten. So the young boy from the plains of the Punjab had returned home but I was anxious to get to Mackeson Road and the tennis court there and my bicycle. It was winter and cold and a few days of food of my choice and freedom changed me. In January 1948, I was admitted to the Convent and upon my parents transfer to Lahore, to St. Anthonys and later Aitchison College. Life at School in Simla had set me on a path to which I have no regrets. Boarding life in particular taught me self-reliance, sharing with dormitory mates, competitiveness, good manners and a host of other matters which steadied life ahead. As the years rolled on, gone is the journey to School, the end of the Persian Water wheel in the village and the ride on the drivers seat going round and round the well, the gas lamps, the spelling competition with cousins. Sita Ram is no more and forgotten are the deodar trees of the greater Himalayas around Simla, the trek to Kufri where the flowers were taller than us young boys, Wild Flower Hall, Barnes Court, the Ridge, Flat One in the School. Gone are Cotton, Sinker, Barnes and Emerson Houses and the Prep School (now a Tibetan Centre), and so are Kathala Railway Station and the beautiful Kidar Nath Farm. I got my tin box back and collected it from the Indian High Commission office at that time located on the Mall next to the Canal in Lahore. It was empty and I felt that it was of no use to remember the material part of life. I was glad to be home with my parents and sister and brothers. Only now can I feel what parents had to go through as there was little assurance that we would return; life could have taken a different path. And onto matriculation, O/A levels, graduation, service with a multinational with a multicultural work force with gems from across the border, working with different ideas and values but easy for me to un-

derstand, having been in boarding with boys from all over India. I had known some of their thinking and got along with them... Amongst my seniors, Zafar Hassan from Amritsar and Lahore, Zia Shafi Khan from , and Nizam Shah Shahjahanpur in the UP from Srinagar were outstanding. There are lifelong friendships forged with Ejaz, Naveed, Anwar. Service in Aitchison College followed and more attention given in the twilight of my life to a loving family across the globe in a different setting. I married Asma; our sons Jaffar and Usman studied for their degrees in the US and are now in Calgary and Karachi respectively with their families. Grandchildren Hassan, Haider and Sonia are growing up to be good human beings. The village prospers and the descendants of Malik Maula Baksh keep his name flying high. He lies buried there with his sons Abdur Rahman, Abdul Mannan and Abdullah Khalid with place in the graveyard for more to follow. Doctor Sahib, Chief Sahib and Commissioner Sahib are remembered to this day. But there are no slogans or eventful days and the dream that was Pakistan sadly disappointed many. Only a brief period in the 1965 skirmish, as Gujrat borders the Jammu area, did the residents show the determination to succeed from the soil that made them. On a clear day one can see the Pir Panjal range in the Himalayas, beautiful and serene and standing tall and mighty unchanged as time goes by. I will always remain thankful to Mr Grewal Singh. In the 60s, his brother Mr Kewal Singh was appointed as the High Commissioner of India to Pakistan. Aunt Salihas father, who was also Asmas grandfather, and I called on him. Mr Singh was deeply touched by the gesture of a distinguished person around 90 years old who had made the effort. But such men and such values are few.

The writer served in a multinational as the Head of Human Resources, and later as Vice Principal and Bursar of Aitchison College, Lahore. Email: iftikharahmadmalik@hotmail.com A peace initiative whose time has come...

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