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WHILE devoting February 13 to the stands of Gaddafi Stadium for the ODI match between India and Pakistan, I and about 10 others from Delhi and Mumbai had reserved Valentine8217;s Day in Lahore for the sights of the old city. The women in our group decided to splinter off from the game after only two hours to go shopping, and that proved to be serendipitous. Although we had every intention of returning, we heard through the grapevine over a lunch of mutton brain masala that a general strike could very well happen on February 14.

8216;8216;If this strike takes place, everything will be closed, 100 per cent. You8217;ve got to do the maximum shopping today,8217;8217; a Pakistani woman told us.

Lahore was a Valentine Mecca like most cities of the world on the days before February 14. Men hawked roses and red plastic hearts on the side of the roads, and the Italian fashion house Moschino peddled its designer fragrance on a conspicuous billboard proclaiming 8216;No ordinary love, no ordinary gift8217;. A European model accompanied the ad8212;blue eyes and red hair popping the senses of a conservative Islamic republic.

But the ad rang true in another sense. When I saw it on a dark, abandoned street that should have been lit up and full of shoppers on the night for lovers, I realised there was nothing ordinary about Valentine8217;s Day itself in Lahore. Citizens chose the day to join the frenzied backlash against a Danish newspaper that first published satirical cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad in September. Merchants shackled their shops and anecdotal warnings haunted the ghost-like city, telling visitors not to go near old Lahore where the police had set up blockades to control crowds.

If there is no true sense of ease in a foreign environment, Valentine8217;s Day in Lahore, with the strikes, only magnified an outsider8217;s sense of anomie. The day didn8217;t feel dangerous, but it became an exercise in extra-delicate movements, despite Lahore, on first comprehension, having the feel of a European capital. With all its consumerism and indulgences, we probably just had a false sense of security.

The city gave us two options for Valentine revelry: gritty unrest or privileged safety. Employees at the Sunfort Hotel in Lahore8217;s Liberty Market and other Pakistani citizens told us, 8220;You just don8217;t take chances.8221;

We resigned ourselves to the scrubbed version of Lahore8212;the nice and gentle side that makes you fall in love with Pakistan. I wonder though if the sterilised aspects of seemingly dangerous places are any less authentic than the passionate circumstances of ordinary citizens. Although odd at best, the Moschino ad represented another side of a Pakistani city that was also worth exploring.

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We began the Valentine8217;s Day strike just wondering what to do, huddled outside the Sunfort Hotel and facing countless closed storefronts. We first ate lunch restaurants were some of the few establishments open that day at a place resembling an American-style cafeteria, before heading to the Royal Palm Golf and Country Club.

Despite mulling over the warnings to keep vigilant about our personal safety, the club was so isolated and beautiful that it made us forget the city8217;s other circumstances.

Defined by exclusivity, the manager told me most people in Lahore can8217;t afford the club8217;s monthly fees 2,000 Pakistani rupees. The club just hired a 25-year-old from England to run the driving range, and the few cars in the parking lot were all expensive imports.

Largely abandoned like the rest of Lahore, we had the patio overlooking the course all to ourselves. We drank coffee, tea and fresh lime soda while listening to Kiss by Prince and other 8217;80s bands like Duran Duran. As darkness fell, a few shops opened up, and we tried in vain to find more treasures worth taking home.

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At dinner we took in the Badshahi Mosque from the balcony of Cooco8217;s Den and Cafe. Lights romantically illuminated the structure, making things look terribly peaceful in a city that was no doubt still full of tension.

And maybe that was how it was all supposed to end: Us sheltered from harsher realities, still thinking, believing love was in the air.

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