Donkey at the border!

GS Aujla

WHAT would appear to be the most objectionable provocation at the International Border today was known in the mid-seventies as an acceptable indulgence on the dhussi bundh separating India and Pakistan. The heavily vegetated area, with a kutcha road all along the border in Gurdaspur, was home to a teeming brood of black partridges and wild boar.

A tacit courtesy that Pakistan Rangers extended to their Indian counterparts was to allow shooting partridge and wild boar. Since pork is forbidden in Islam, they did not mind us shooting the pigs. 

I found in the late PD Vashisht, the then Additional Deputy Commissioner of Gurdaspur, an avid hunter. Although a Brahmin by birth, his mouth would start watering the moment he saw a partridge in the bushes. In the hunting season, the two of us — after duty hours — would proceed to the dhussi for ‘patrol’, with our 12-bore shotguns jutting out of the windscreen. We would often leave the jeep and let a bird fly to take a shot. The chances of survival of our likely prey was 50-50 as neither of us was an expert at flying shots. I was an ace rifle shot in my younger days and made a lousy shot with the shotgun. I am told a good rifle shooter scarcely becomes a good shotgun firer. Vashisht was a cerebral hunting addict and was happy with a small bag of partridges — mostly ‘sitting ducks’, as the phrase goes.

The BSF officer at the border outpost would facilitate the roasting of the partridges and had a cook who was an expert at barbeque that he made out of wild boar. We had the most enjoyable time at the International Border and there was no cross-border tension.

One day, when we were driving on the dhussi bundh, we saw a donkey in our territory. It was so heavily loaded that it could hardly walk. We got off our jeep and with the help of our driver and retainers searched the animal. We found five cases of ‘Solan Number One’ (a popular brand of whisky made in India) in the bags. Handing over the donkey at the outpost, we were told that Indian smugglers used to load donkeys with their favourite brand of liquor for Pakistani counterparts. We were also told that a bottle of ‘Solan’, costing Rs 35 in India, was sold for Rs 350 in Lahore on the black market. The forbidden fruit is always dearer.

The unfortunate donkey had strayed back into the Indian territory, apparently having lost its way and failing to deliver it to the assigned receiver across the border. Ironically, there was no punishment for it — it was mercifully spared a torturous interrogation. A triumph for animal rights!