Whose spring is it, really?

Picture this: an Indian woman, marked by her sari, finds herself in the crowded heart of Lahore8217;s Anarkali Bazaar. Every little shop has groups of strapping Pakistani men clustered around TVs. An impulse of spring stirs the woman to say, 8220;I hope you win!8221; Heads are shaken all around. 8220;Aap jeete ya hum jeete, ek hi baat hai!8221; say several men. It8217;s the same thing, whether you win or we win. 8220;Aap toh apni hi ghar aayee hain8221; You have come home says another group, with lovely stern-ness. When India wins, the souk smiles and nods at the sari. Can this be Pakistan, where cricketers who played badly against India had their families attacked and their houses stoned?

But, how deep is your love, as the song goes? At a literary dinner, truth outs from the belly of a poet whose family home was on the city wall of Old Delhi, by Kashmiri Gate, across the road from Ritz Cinema: 8220;We hate Indians, but love Indian music.8221; Tsk. You could have fooled us. You have before, notably in Kargil. But meanwhile, the legendary Pakistani mehman-nawazi for Indians has been out in full force, as though a huge national conspiracy is afoot, from the humblest waiter to the highest circles: Be Nice To Indians. India last saw such a street conspiracy when Indira Gandhi summoned the 1977 General Election. The urchins distributing Congress pamphlets anxiously told each person accosted, 8220;Please vote for the Janata Party.8221;

But now, what? A series of carefully orchestrated signals are being beamed out, as if to tell the world: 8220;We are not a rogue state. We have a modern outlook.8221; One flower-filled spring afternoon, Sughra Imam, Minister for Social Welfare, hosts a lunch in the historic Lawrence Gardens, now Bagh-e-Jinnah. In her early 30s, slim, trim and chic in diamante-rimmed Chanel sunshades, she says, 8220;I am a third generation Pakistani, born after the 8217;71 War. I don8217;t know any other country. My generation is very comfortable and confident in its identity. I want more such meetings, especially between people of imagination, so we can build our relationship8221;.

At dinner on Lahore8217;s magical Food Street in historic Gual Mandi Shahbaz Sharif, Nawaz Sharif8217;s brother, is credited with Lahore8217;s civic regeneration, street musicians serenade Indians on clarinets and violins: 8220;Bahaaron, phool barasaao, mera mehboob aaya hai8221; and over and over again, 8220;Ghar aaya mera pardesi8220;. In affirmation, Lt Gen Khalid Maqbool, Governor of Punjab, tells a dinner gathering: 8220;Lots of people have asked me, will it work this time? But this time is different. This time it seems to be built on the sentiments of the people.8221;

No mistaking that. Even the ultimate hurdle of cricket seems crossed, that famous proxy war that makes both sides demoniac with fury. But riding the genuine people-to-people sentiment on the street seems a more sinister process of political legitimisation for the Musharraf government. More is at stake here than the Indo-Pak peace process. Pakistan8217;s future reputation rides on how the country showcases itself in the ongoing cricket series, as a civilised society, in fact as a civil society. So this series is indeed different. It is being played for the international community. The gora gallery still snickers at us emotional natives, so easily torn, so easily mended, while our brown neo-colonials laugh outright.