Who moved my squirrel?

Wagah border is a strange place to be on our independence day. And by our, I mean India's and Pakistan's. On those particular days—evenings to be precise—a lot of unrestrained jingoism displays itself on either side of the gate that divides us. The whole arena is crowded and full of noise. As the official flags get lowered, soldiers lift their feet to heights that would make Ibrahimovic second-guess his wowsomeness. And while they are cocking around trying to shatter the concrete ground beneath them with their leather shoes, crowd add their bit to the unrehearsed show. Loud nationalist slogans can be heard and it's hard to find anyone who can stay untouched by such exhibition of harmless yet provocative emotions. Even the foreign tourists join in with 'Bharat Mata Ki Jai' or 'Pakistan Zindabad' depending on which country stamped their passports! I was there to witness all these aforementioned theatrics three months ago. To be frank, I wasn't interested in what was going on in front of my eyes. I was more into the ones on the other side. Call me a Paki-lover but I'm unapologetically fond of them. Having never seen a Pakistani in flesh before (which is the case with most of the Indians I know who hate Pakistanis indiscriminately), I was overwhelmed to witness SO MANY OF THEM at once. Most seemed upbeat with the watanfaroshi naraas on their lips. But then, you can't blame them for being in the jingoistic mood. Just like it'd be unpatriotic of me to expect anything different from my compatriots.... Amid this annual chaos, I noticed a bushy squirrel get down from a tree on *their* end and cross the border to climb up a tree on *our* end. I bet the ignorant rodent didn't know to which country it belonged.