The next day, I had to catch an early morning bus to meet a visiting friend in Faisalabad. While the campus is beautiful and away from the bustle of the city, it can be a challenge when on foot. I had to walk several miles before I found a rickshaw early on a sunday morning. I was worried that I would miss my bus. My legs were tired and I was covered in sweat by the time I reached the first rickshaw. I hopped in and we went for a bit, before the rickshaw sputtered to a halt. It ran out of gas. Once again, I was on foot, hurrying to the bus stand. If I missed this bus, the next would be late in the afternoon, and I would lose the day with my friend. I kept walking until I found another rickshaw to take me the rest of the way. Thankfully, I made it with 5 minutes to spare, and hopped on the bus.
Hours later in Faisalabad, I was picked up by Zafar sahib who was hosting my friend and some other guests who were coming in town to commemorate Bhagat Singh, a freedom fighter from independence movement from the British. They would be visiting his birthplace the next day, but I could at least see my friend Parmod Sharma ji who had come all the way from India.It was a bit of an odd day. It was fantastic to see Parmodji, whom I had not seen in 5 years, and don’t know when I might even get the chance to see again. His sweet daughters had made cards for me. I remember how naughty and cute Saba and Sana were from 5 years ago. The day itself consisted of press club visits and other manners of more talk and less seeing. I was embarrassed at the display at the press club. The other visitor from India had been visiting for the past 30 years and had worked I was told on peace building efforts. The “journalists" at the press club asked lots of dumb questions ranging from Veena Malik, to questions about things that only Indian Government policy and military people could answer. Similar to press conferences I have seen in India, while the cameras are rolling you see "journalists" asking their "zinger" questions and feeling satisfied and smug about it while wasting a real opportunity to connect people. It makes very clear to me that politicians and “journalists" such as these ones are equally a part of the problem.They have the platform to ask the real questions, to help clear up bigoted notions and strive to uphold accountability. Instead they used their platform and access to play games and posture. At the same time, the guest had nothing to say but, that the problem was all in Pakistan and that India was blameless of any possible wrong doing. No information was to be gained from either of these parties.
I felt that Parmodji, who stood up and only spoke for a few minutes had much more value to bring than all the other people in the room combined. He simply shared that politicians are on both sides would continue to do as they did, but connecting the general populace was in his opinion the key. He shared a few specific examples of how he was contributing to this effort through his organization Yuvsatta and the annual Peace Festival they hold which brings students from Pakistan and other countries to Chandigarh, India. When people meet and interact, then they can connect and find their common ground and love for one another, away from these politicians and “journalists" who are clearly on their own agenda.
We visited a library afterwards, from where Parmodji and I slipped out to walk around the city, to enjoy the clocktower, sites, bazaars and people of Faisalabad. We walked around for a while, then hired a rickshaw to take us around for an hour. There was not much to see, but I guess that is because Faisalabad is more of an industrial town, known for cloth . It was previously known as Lyallpur.
At night, Parmodji and I went out to run some errands, then came back and had some daal for dinner at Zafar sahib’s home. There was a nice mushaira (poetry recital) going on in the drawing room, which I attended for a bit. People shared some beautiful poetry, and I particularly enjoyed the Punjabi poetry. I would have stayed longer, but I was exhausted having been up and about since 5am. I went to sleep.