Wagah is tremendously noisy - patriotic songs on both sides of the gates and people on both sides matching voice against voice - they are louder than us . An itty bitty old lady in a shirt and a sari with her pallu wound over her head and around her throat walks down the length of the road,hauling the tricolour , grandson in hand while the populace seated on the tiered stand cheers .On the other side grandpa in a green spattered white kurta pajama , hennaed beard and fez on head waved the Pakistani flag .

The BSF put up a fine show , the cockaded hat fanning out with each goose step the soldier took

and there was a lot of foot stompting and head turning and moustache bristling till the flags of both countries were bought down to be put away for the night

after which the gates clanged shut with a definite finality for the night .

The Golden Temple was beautifully quiet after all this brouhaha -.

Rajma chawal,papad ,warrian ,juttis and the train from Pakistan

The train from Pakistan stops at Attari, the last station on the Indian border, set amidst silent green fields



It is a three hour journey and the packed train disgorges hordes of people from across the border who remain hemmed in with blue ropes at the station until they clear customs and immigration which the Assistant Commissioner tells us takes hours to complete . It is a silent place .And it is easy to imagine that trainload of slaughtered bodies that came to rest here during partition . Now the crowds are quiet and watch and wait patiently to board the blue train to Delhi which waits beyond the guard fence .
A signboard says "Welcome to India -the largest democracy in the world.