Khokrapar-Munabao
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Khokrapar-Munabao
The vital link
By Kunwar Khalid Yunus
The resumption of the Khokrapar-Munabao rail link is a good sign for the peoples of India and Pakistan. But certain formalities have to be taken care of in a proper way to make the journey a hassle-free one
February 17 was an epoch-making day for Sindh and Rajasthan. After 41 years, the provinces once again got linked through a rail network. The Thar Express, the connection between Zero Point and Munabao, was stationed at Karachi Cantt, waiting to move ahead.
Outside the railway station celebrations could be seen. Party workers, politicians, parliamentarians, MPAs and local bodies representatives of the city were in a festive mood. Most of them were from the MQM. Fifty-nine years ago, their parents and grandparents had once crossed the Indian side of Munabao to Pakistan’s Khokrapar when an infant Muslim homeland was born.
But after 18 years of independence, this southern border of Pakistan was suddenly closed for irrational reasons. Then the Indian consulate along with its visa office was also asked to be closed down at Karachi for some illogical reasons.
At the time of its closure, Karachi’s Indian consulate was issuing 1,000 visas on a daily basis. The number of travellers from the divided families was drastically cut down. For more than four decades those who still wished to visit India had to take long and torturous routes inside and outside the country to visit their relatives living on the other side of the border.
The divided families in Pakistan were at the time paying a double price for their freedom. First, when they crossed the border leaving their loved ones behind; and then when most of them could not meet each other due to some absurd travelling restrictions.
At the Karachi Cantt Railway Station, both federal and state railway ministers of Pakistan along with their senior officials were present. Initially, they had intended to travel to Munabao with the governor and chief minister of Sindh with a large number of mediamen. However, when they were “informed” that the Indian railway minister Lalu Prasad and Rajasthan’s governor and CM would not be there at Munabao to welcome them, the projected visit was cancelled.
It was a little over 2300 hours when the guard of the Thar Express blew the whistle. After more than four decades the first train to the Indian border slowly but surely moved. Dr Ishratul Ibad, the Governor of Sindh, said goodbye to us.
The train carried about 300 passengers. They were of two types: those whose journey was terminating at Zero Point; and those who were crossing Munabao and moving onward to Jodhpur. My wife and I belonged to the latter category. When we reached Hyderabad, it was 2am. It seemed that not only was the whole city wide awake but a big number of citizens had come to the railway station.
Our next stop was Mirpur Khas where we reached at 4:30am. Between Hyderabad and Mirpur Khas there were half a dozen small stations. Whenever the train crossed them, we heard young people cheering. They were happy to see the resumption of the train service between India and Pakistan.
It was morning when the snail-paced train passed through Khokhrapar. Another jubilant crowd was at the station anticipating the Thar Express would stop there; but it did not. Instead it kept on moving towards Zero Point.
At 9am, when our train stopped at Zero Point, I was still sceptical about our bureaucracy’s logic of ignoring the well established Khokhrapar railway station which has better facilities than the hastily constructed Zero Point.
When I tried to get off at Zero Point, my feet did not touch the platform. I had to come down with difficulty because of a very uneven surface made of red bricks with no cement or mortar in between. It was covered with desert sand. The situation reminded me of the hefty sum supposedly spent on Zero Point.
Here, we had to get off with our luggage. The absence of coolies was also felt at Zero Point. The number of passengers had now dwindled to about 150. There was a small room where the IB staff was registering the names of visitors in a conventional way. The customs and immigration staff, in spite of its small number, was trying its best. There were only three to four toilets with low ceiling. At 1330 hours, the Thar Express finally whistled to depart for Munabao.
At Munabao we were welcomed by cheering members of the India Pakistan People’s Forum for Peace. There I also saw the Rajasthan police’s musical band in their red tunics playing welcoming themes for their guests from Pakistan.
Not only was Indian Railway Minister Lalu Prasad there, but two Indian federal ministers and Rajasthan’s chief minister and governor (both women) were there too. When we met the railway minister, he asked, why did not Pakistan’s railway minister, Sindh’s governor and chief minister come to Munabao? Also there were state ministers and senior officials from the foreign, home and interior ministries.
From our side, a sitting parliamentarian (myself), the Secretary-General of the HRCP, Iqbal Haider, General Secretary of the Pakistan chapter of India-Pakistan Peoples Forum for Peace, Ms Anis Haroon, and her hard working members (approximately 60) reached Munabao. We found Munabao quite different from Zero Point. The station was neat and clean. From there I saw many families departing for Pakistan. They were mostly from Gujarat and Rajasthan. There was a large number of Sindhi families too. Most of them reside close to the border area. They speak Sindhi at home, but with the locals they converse in Marwari.
After the completion of formalities, we proceeded to the other side of the platform. Here, the Jodhpur Express was waiting for us to carry us to Jodhpur.
It had started getting dark. We passed through Ramsar, a small town. I saw people on roadside, on house roofs, at railway crossing gates, on their bicycles, rickshaws, bullock carts, camels and on sand dunes. All of them were cheering and waving at us.
Members of the Indo-Pak Peace Forum were singing old Indian and Pakistani love songs. We joined them. It was surprising that passengers, irrespective of their gender and age, also joined us in the chorus. They were going to their ancestral homes, some after 41 years, and some after 59.
Railway stations of Barmer, Bolotra and Luny swiftly passed by. At about 11.30pm we saw big houses, wide streets and a large number of vehicles, indicating the arrival of a big city. It was Jodhpur. There was a huge crowd waiting for us with garlands in their hands. We were warmly received and soon our necks felt heavy with loads of garlands.
In the morning when I opened my room’s window, I could see Jodhpur’s main road, Panch Batti. All sorts of vehicles were plying it. Jodhpur is also famous for its soft camel leather footwear.
The next day there was a function arranged by Jodhpur’s chapter of the Peace Forum at Abul Kalam Azad Muslim School. Among the dignitaries were some former ministers, MPs and members of the business community.
We were welcomed with a presentation of Allama Iqbal’s poetry which was recited by girl students. Dr Zeba Rashid, a 65-year-old peace activist, whom I saw at the Jodhpur station walking with some difficulty carrying a large candle, was also there. She delivered a wonderful speech, saying that she was bed-ridden for long, but when she heard about the opening of the Munabao route and the train coming from Pakistan she forgot about her ailment and was once again standing on her feet.
One woman member of the Indo-Pak Peace Forum feared that the new train service would be closed down on some pretext, therefore visa offices at Karachi and Mumbai were a must.
Some delegates were from Gujarat’s fishery society. They spoke about Gujarat’s fishing community’s problems members of whom sometimes mistakenly cross Indo-Pak international sea limits. They also narrated a recent story of how a fisherman who crossed the territorial sea limit from the Indian side and got killed.
We left for Udaipur before sunrise in a private cab. Now the real Rajasthan started where we could see a common village man with long sideburns and a typical nine-yard pugree riding his camel.
Also visible were brightly dressed women working in the fields at the camel-driven wells and in the narrow bazaars with their long ghoonghats, which thinly masked their faces.
There we got a chance to see Ranakpur’s Jain temple, a massive, ancient and impressive structure. It’s in the lap of dark hills where tall dry grass and leafless trees could also be seen. Just before the hills, I saw a big road sign with a painted image of a feline, “Beware of cheetahs”.
In the afternoon we reached Udaipur. It is a Rajasthani city for tourists. It was so peaceful there that I saw only one traffic constable. The city has a Muslim population of 45,000. I saw a neat looking very old building on which it was written in English, Amrit Ki Haveli.
We stayed at the Circuit House, an old colonial building close to a tranquil lake. On our way back to where we were staying, we passed through narrow lanes of Udaipur. It was 11:30 in the night. Perhaps there were weddings taking place in nearby hotels. The streets were still full of young women wearing colourful saris and glittering ghagras. Udaipur has an old mosque known as Paltan Ki Masjid.
While sitting at a shop near the mosque I asked one person, Haji Tayab, if he had ever visited Pakistan. The 80-year-old informed me that perhaps it was in 1965 that he had visited Pakistan. He stayed with his younger sister at Karachi’s Aram Bagh area. The day Haji sahib returned to Jodhpur war broke out between India and Pakistan and the Khokrapar border got closed.
The Thar Express’ was to leave for Pakistan Feb 25. But I heard about the sudden demise of my party and parliamentary colleague Prof Khalid Wahab. We decided to immediately leave Udaipur for Delhi by the Marwar Express.
After a brief stay at an MP Nirmila Desh Pandayjee’s residence we again boarded the Golden Temple Express to Amritsar. And after some formalities we came back to Pakistan.
