It was my second day at the local language school here in Germany. I was eagerly looking forward to mastering the basics of the German language. The classroom was large and bright, with huge French windows ushering in the warm rays of the sun on a chilly, winter morning. The students were seated at the U-shaped setting of the tables and chairs - no front benchers and back benchers, no slackers or pranksters. Everybody was in the plain sight of our Lehrerin (teacher). The class strength was 19 till yesterday. Our classroom resembled a mini UN assembly meeting. After our formal self introduction session yesterday, I had determined that between the 19 of us, we represented 17 different nationalities. We had Jordan, Tunisia, Algeria, Kazakhstan, USA, Morocco, Russia, Macedonia, Lithuania, Belize, Iraq, Brazil, UK, Spain, Turkey, Portugal and of course India. There were three students from Iraq and thus we have accounted for the nationalities of the 19 students. But today we had a new student. She knocked on the door and walked in, greeting the class at large in a timid voice. She seemed to be in her late thirties and sat at the opposite end from where I was seated. My Iraqi neighbour on the right leaned in and asked if I was familiar with the garb our new classmate had donned. I told her I was not. The seat to my left was empty. Soon our Lehrerin waltzed in and took the roll call. When she noticed the new student she asked us to introduce ourselves to her in German. When we were done, she introduced herself, “Hallo, Ich heisse Farhat und ich komme aus Pakistan”. For a second I lost my balance, after all I had never met a Pakistani ever before. 15 years ago my sister had a pen pal from Pakistan and that was as close as I had ever got to a citizen from Pakistan.
Given the long standing feud over border, river water, Kashmir and of course the partition, Kargil war, nuclear tests etc, one never knows what sentiments to hold for our neighbours. I, for one, had been unable to take a stand until that eventful day. I am quite a liberal in many ways. I don’t care for race, religion, age, sexual orientation, political leanings or any other forms of personal beliefs. But due to the ever-super-charged atmosphere between India and Pakistan, one never knows how to break the ice or where the boundary is. So my surprise is justified when Farhat walked over to my end of the table and seated herself to my left. I managed a charming smile and she immediately broke into a full fledged dialogue, “Oh, so you are from India! Very nice to meet you. Where are you staying, why are you here, how long will you be staying, do you like it here, do you speak Urdu, where does your husband work, do you have children”, the questioning went on. I was delighted to answer her questions because I had realised I had a friend in the making. She had just shown me how easily border disputes could be swept into oblivion.
Just a few weeks later, she invited my husband and me to her beautiful home. She is a marvellous cook. The biryani was delicious and the kebabs were scrumptious. Her husband is a warm person who fondly recalls how well he was treated by his Indian host when he had visited Delhi in 1996. Her children are delightful and have been brought up with good values and morals. When my relatives visited us here in Germany, she invited them also to her house and treated us to the best Rasmalai we had ever had. Since then, we have gone back and forth many times between her home and mine. She has taken us out for weekend trips and barbeque sessions. We have had them over for Rajma-chawal and cutlets. Some friendships are destined to live forever. It has been a year since Farhat reminded me that international boundary lines apart, at the end of the day we are all same-same.
