Amritsar & border closing ceremonies....

             I was able to avail myself of the highest class (Shabati) of Indian passenger train service from Delhi

Enter--- the peacocks...

to Amritsar, reclining airline style seats, no bed berths.  Rolling stock was showing signs of age, much used and could have benefited from a good cleaning—anyway the stage was relatively short, by Indian rail distance standards, six hours, with infrequent stops. Upon return to Delhi on Monday, I shall be on a regular express, and the trip duration extends to eight hours.

               Amritsar is the most northerly port of call of this round India rail jaunt and as we sped across the countryside into the Punjab, increased prosperity was evident in terms of farm mechanisation and quality of many of the home structures that I saw from my speeding carriage. With the monsoon, only just passed, the fields were green, rice paddies full and all looked to be very bountiful.

             My lodgings in Amritsar, the Lawrence Hotel, a couple of kms north of the ‘Old City’, is located in an active commercial zone and last night walked past the largest, most prosperous shops and plazas seen so far in India. More private cars on the streets and a preponderance of upper- end consumer goods that shout wide spread aspiration to the good life.

              I have learned that the Punjab is the home of the turbaned Sikh sect, with a minority even calling for an independent state named Khalistan. Sikhs are taller than Indian populations I have seen in other states passed through so far. My observation is that in the Punjab, there is noticeably more female representation & apparent gender equality, at least in public. Everyone spoken to so far, is quick to tell me of the other Sikh city is Brampton, Ontario. Punjab was split into two halves during the 1947 carve-up that created Pakistan—one half on each side of the border.

           After a morning of relaxation (read sleep) at the hotel favouring a very bad chest cold, my driver arrived at 3.30pm sharp for the ride to the Indo- Pak border crossing point where every night since 1947 they have ceremonially closed the gates for the night to each other. 

That's Chris---on the right!

The process has evolved in to pure theatre—very Monty Pythonesque—did John Cleese get his inspiration for his Ministry of Funny Walks here? Two separate closing ceremonies occur along side each, other-each side trying energetically to drown out the other sides national anthem, chants & calls. Reminded me of an ear-splitting World Cup final game!

              The amplified audio process is blasted out to the banks of seats on either side of the border through two (one Pak, the other Indian) super massive sound systems. At 5.30pm on the dot, teams of very tall athletic soldiers appeared simultaneously on each side of the border gate and in turn separately and individually competed with the other nation’s military to do the most preposterous goose stepping marches, to kick their legs higher than their plumed turbans and make the most overt gestures and aggressive body language possible, supported strenuously with roars of approval from their own country’s cheering sections. Pure theatre, of course---EXCEPT one could see everywhere on roof-tops, soldiers with automatic machine guns and sniffer dogs checking the crowd. Just this passed week, there has been a flurry of shelling across the line of control in nearby Kashmir. With national flags hauled down in unison  and ‘Sunset’ bugled, the border gates between these two rival nuclear powers slammed shut.

                  An interesting event and one very much recommended, but the 2 hour build-up in intense sun and the non-stop,ear-splitting cacophony from two massive, competing sound systems, makes this perhaps a one- off experience for this scribe.