Separated at birth

We soon found one. It was a one-owner, one-assistant run shanty. Both men wore crumpled salwar kameezes. The assistant8217;s kameez, in fact, bore patches all over. We placed our order. The owner was thrilled that we had come from India. He ordered tea. He said that the fees would be Rs 400 and that we could come the same evening to collect our gift.

The job was immaculately done. Both the Urdu and English letterings were precise and clear. We proffered the cash, but he refused to accept it. 8220;Bhaisaab, sharminda mat karo. Aap Hindustan se aaye ho. Aap hamare mehman ho. Hum paisa nahin lenge brother, do not embarrass us. You have come from India. You are our guests. We cannot accept the money. We were speechless.

Some nights later, after being treated to a delicious meal by our Pakistani friends at Cooku8217;s Cafeacute;, a popular roof- top restaurant overlooking the Badshahi Masjid, our autorickshaws were stopped at a dimly lit traffic junction by two AK-47 wielding policemen.

After we explained our status in Lahore, the sergeant stopped the checking, 8220;Maaf karna. Hume maalum nahin ki aap Hindustan se aaye ho. Hamare saat thodi chai pee lo please excuse us, we did not know you were from India. You must have some tea with us.8221;

On our last night, our Pakistani friend Wasim Rabbani decided to take us to the all-night food street at Gowalmandi. Wasim ordered food fit for an army, and as we greedily slurped the last morsel of the phirnee dessert from our plates and asked for the bill, the restaurateur simply grinned and said, 8220;Wasim bhai bill de chuke hain! Wasim has already paid the bill8221;