Amritsar and the Wagah border
After the usual hilarity of trying to get a tuk tuk to an AirBnB on a street no-one’s heard of, with no obvious landmarks, in the dark, when you’re tired and dehydrated, we arrived at a very welcoming place in Amritsar, run by the most attentive Mr Harinder.
Breakfast is a marvellous affair here – fat and full stuffed parathas cooked by Harinder’s wife and eaten in the family dining room. Fresh curd, honey, sour pickles and cream along with tea you could stand a spoon up in and nice conversation.
We decided to start our exploration of Amritsar at Jallianwala Bagh, a large open garden that became infamous in 1919 when one Brigadier General Reginald Dyer ordered his troops to open fire on a crowd of thousands who had gathered to protest at increasingly draconian British colonial policies. No warning was given. Dyer simply ordered his Sikh and Gurkah regiments to shoot into the crowd until they ran out of bullets. No-one’s sure exactly how many were killed, but it was at least 1500, many through jumping into a deep well. Richard Attenborough’s film ‘Ghandi’ recreates the scene with a stony faced Edward Fox as Dyer, utterly unrepentant at his hand in the massacre. Even after the atrocity he continued to impose appalling and humiliating measures to try and keep the populace under control, including making Indians crawl along a particular street where one sensitive English memsahib had apparently been offended by a native…
I’d wanted to see this site for ages, but I have to confess the place lacks any reverence. Places of horror, like Auschwitz for instance, generally command at least some respect and retrospection. Not here. Indian tourists compete to take their own beaming pictures against the walls where bullet holes are not only still visible, but highlighted with white tape squares. People traipse through the descriptive galleries without reading or even noticing the descriptions or explanations. No-one really seemed to care except us.
We had a much better experience at the Golden Temple, the reason most people come to Amritsar (alas, no cameras allowed though, so all the pictures here are from our mobiles). Shoes off, feet washed, bright orange head-scarves on. We were hoping for a look that said ‘pirate’ but I fear we got ‘gnome’…
You can’t buy style (unfortunately)
A nice atmosphere inside though, a relaxed, holiday vibe with most people milling about around the huge water tank that surrounds the temple. The temple itself is impressive – dazzling gold domes reflecting the intense midday sun and approached by a vast queue of devotees who wait for hours on the connecting jetty to get inside. The intense heat made us forgo that pleasure….
We wandered past the temple’s langar, a Sikh community kitchen, and were beckoned in by two elderly men waving tin trays at us. Feeling somewhat peckish anyway, we headed over and were handed a large circular thali tray, a bowl and a spoon. We were then led into a large hall and made to sit down in long rows, cross-legged with our trays before us. Other rows formed in front of us, then others in front of them. A series of volunteers make their way down the lines of diners at a decent pace – one with a bucket of dhal, one with a bucket of spiced potatoes & one with a sweet creamy substance – each ladeling a portion onto the trays below with a resounding slop and surprising accuracy. Chapatis follow, then water in your bowl from a tap, dispensed by a gentleman with a 4-wheeled mobile barrel. You eat your meal & chat with your neighbours. I had a somewhat limited and repetitive experience with the man next to me, who’s only topic of conversation was an appreciation of the missus. “Wife?” he asked. “Yes”, I said. “Beautiful!” he replied. Then, “Wife?” again. “Yes, she is”, I confirmed. “Beautiful!!!” Very loud, much to everyone’s amusement. It became ever so slightly less amusing after the 14th time, however we continued to smile and nod.
Lunch over, we headed from the hall to the washing-up area. From there another line of volunteers take your tray and cutlery. The trays are slapped hard against the sides of an enormous vat, then acrobatically tossed into a basket for transportation to the wash-troughs. I joined a trough with the other men (no women do it) and washed up countless trays and spoons with bare hands in cold water. Quite a serious endeavour it seems. I’d expected a bit of banter or smiling, but proceedings are serious – no one speaks to each other, the business at hand clearly not allowing for any frivolity.
That’ll teach me to forget my wallet…..
Perhaps the most impressive thing about the canteen though, is the sheer scale. The langar regularly caters for 25,000 diners per day and a peak times, feeds up to 100,000. And it’s all free. As an example of traditional Sikh hospitality with it’s virtues of compassion, equality and service, it’s truly magnificent.
We relaxed for a while in the cool shaded square surrounding the temple lake, until the ever increasing demands for photos with Helen and plonking of babies on my knees made us beat a retreat. We took the opportunity to wander around the nearby streets.
Next day, following a trip to the surprising good Partition museum where people actually read the exhibits, we headed out to the Attari – Wagah border where India meets Pakistan. Every afternoon a border closing ceremony is performed there that attracts literally thousands of patriotic Indians and Pakistanis (more of the former), all seated in stadium sized arenas. Spectators are treated to highly-coordinated theatricals where soldiers from each country’s border force, dressed in full finery with feather-crested caps, compete to intimidate and outdo each other in the art of outrageous gesturing.
From our vantage point in the stands, we saw the 20,000 seats gradually fill up as the start of the ceremony approached. Some groups paid for the privilege of running a short distance across the border tarmac with enormous Indian flags, to great howls of delight from the crowd. A large group of women danced to very loud pop songs for 20 minutes. Then the border troops appeared and commenced a rather strange ritual. Together they produced several long droning noises, probably lasting about a minute each time. Presumably a demonstration of superior lung capacity is a clear sign of manliness.
Droning over, a warm-up man did the rounds, whipping up patriotic fervour with back and forth chanting between him and the audience. Whether they were doing this on the Pakistan side wasn’t clear as the noise from our side was deafening. A karaoke style song was shown on two large screens, the Punjabi script lighting up as the tune skipped merrily across pictures of Indian military might – a fast patrol boat, a squadron of tanks, fighter jets on the attack. It all seemed good natured, but somewhat jingoistic at the same time. ‘We all might be having fun here’, it suggested, ‘but we could easily give the other side what for if we wanted to’. Old enmities are never far from the surface it seems….
The closing ceremony proper is a very much stage-managed affair, and with good reason. Each side might attempt to outdo the other, but great care is taken that they don’t – flags are lowered at exactly the same pace, folded in exactly the same manner and gates are closed at exactly the same time – no-one wants to spark an international incident by over-doing it. That said, the soldiers really do go for it with their flamboyant posturing, snarling, and speed marching. Most impressive are the high kicks that would split a mere mortal’s trousers in an instant. Like John Cleese on steroids, some manage to get their toes above their heads with powerful arcing sweeps of the leg, often while cantering at speed towards the opposing border. After recent events of my own it brought a tear to my eye.
The Indian Ministry of Silly Walks in action
Silliness over, flags are lowered solemnly
At the end and at 6 o’clock precisely, a rapid handshake, a quick salute, and the gates were slammed shut. Selfies with the troops if you wanted to. Unsurprisingly, people wanted to.
We spent our last evening in India (for now at least), visiting the Golden Temple again and our visit happened to coincide with the birthday of the 9th Sikh guru. It was pleasantly warm, and we spent our time cross-legged on the edge of the sacred lake in contemplation, along with hundreds of others, watching small clay bowls being filled with oil for burning and the setting sun lighting the temple with an ever-deepening golden glow. Low-pitched songs and incantations were played from loudspeakers and the crowd responded in kind. The lamps were lit, then everyone stood and sang. Reflections of people & burning lamps in the lake, the sounds of deep humming, the shy muttering of prayers, then out of nowhere, fireworks illuminating the temple and surrounds – it was a magical experience and one we will never forget.
The sun starts to set on the Golden Temple….
In another example of the sublime quickly turning into the ridiculous, a massive bear-like man decided to give me a massive bear-like hug as we made our way out. “Thank you sir!” I said, as he gently rocked me back and forth, “I feel like we know each other so much better now”. He didn’t answer. He was clearly in some form of rapture and my inane gibberings rightly brooked no response.
Crossing into Pakistan tomorrow…….
Simon (18th April 2025)
The orange headgear was flattering.Ian wants one. You know Simon when you come home ,the “wife” will expect you to wash up. . It’s all experience.Happy Easter. XX
Ian can have mine if he wants it!
Sounds like you’ve had a varied few days, and I agree you do have a beautiful wife. Do they do the border ceremony every day or just because you 2 were in town??
Enjoy Pakistan, looking forward to hearing all about it!
I have indeed a beautiful wife (that fella wasn’t wrong!). Border ceremony is everyday yes – quite amazing, but yes. It’s actuallly been stopped as of yesterday though, in fact the entire border has been closed due the terrorist attacks in Kashmir. I guess we were lucky to get over before that all kicked off. Posts on Pakistan coming soon – it’s marvellous here!
Beautiful – headgear and descriptions 😁. I was worried you were getting blase about all the amazing things you are seeing, as we all gasp at every blog post. So it’s wonderful to hear your magical experience at the temple – it sounds sublime. Can’t wait to hear all about Pakistan
You’re right – it can be very easy to become blase. Luckily we’re both big kids at heart (especially me) and still get excited at stuff we might have seen before! The Golden Temple experience was sublime indeed – we were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time.
You might have heard – the India Pakistan border is now closed since the terrorist attacks in Kashmir, so we were fortunate to cross a few days beforehand. Can’t even fly between the 2 countries now….