اک درخت ایسا محبت کا لگایا جائے
جس کا ہمسائے کے آنگن میں بھی سایہ جائے
۔ ظفر زیدی

In the name of the Most Merciful, the Most Compassionate۔

The sun had scorched the Margalla valley relentlessly that day. Even my faithful “foxy,” [the mustard-colored volks wagon], seemed reluctant to venture onto the roads. Yet as the sun finally dipped behind the hills, dark-grey and white clouds gathered like merciful witnesses in the sky. Raindrops—blessings from the heavens—began to pour, cooling the parched earth and the hearts of its weary people. It was in that blessed moment that I stepped out of the plaza and took my seat in the car, aiming for Daman-e-Koh.
As we climbed the winding road, a familiar navy-blue figure appeared. The chiming of bells reached my ears before the eyes could confirm. “BaBa Tal” [the Bell-man], stood by the roadside, in his navy-blue robe adorned with brass bells. I stopped. He moved gracefully toward “foxy” and took the seat beside me.
“Bacha,” he began in his slow, resonant voice, “do you remember New York? Those nights when you attended every literary gathering, every function—even the glittering nightclubs. In 1981, when Studio 54 on Street 54 reopened after renovation, you were invited by Miss Carmen, the club secretary. That night, under the dazzling lights and pulsating music, you met the dream-girl of that era—Brooke Shields. Young, radiant, full of that unmistakable American starlight mixed with timeless grace.”
I smiled, the memory flashing vividly. The reopening of Studio 54 was electric—celebrities, artists, dreamers, and socialites converging in a reborn temple of nightlife. The air was thick with possibility and perfume. Brooke Shields, at the height of her fame, moved through the crowd with an elegance that silenced corners of the room. Our brief conversation—warm, fleeting, yet memorable—felt like a bridge between worlds: the bustling energy of Manhattan and the contemplative soul of someone who had seen both Eastern traditions and Western dazzle.
BaBa Tal paused, then continued: “And the poet whose couplet you kept repeating after hearing his tragic story?”
He took a deep breath. “Zafar Zaidi. His sister came from India and donated her kidney to save him. Yet, shortly after, he passed away. A soul whose words longed for love across borders, but whose body could not endure the weight of separation.”
A sacred smile-light appeared on BaBa Tal’s face. “Begin your article with his couplet,” he whispered. He knew—somehow—that an unfinished piece on India-Pakistan relations lay on my desk in the F-10 studio apartment.

“The believers are but brothers, so make settlement between your brothers. And fear Allah that you may receive mercy.” (Surah Al-Hujurat 49:10)

“And if they incline to peace, then incline to it [also] and rely upon Allah.” (Surah Al-Anfal 8:61)
These divine commands, revealed to the Holy Prophet Muhammad (Peace and Blessings be upon him) in the sacred lands of Hejaz, echo across time and artificial borders like the persistent chiming of BaBa Tal’s bells—gentle yet insistent, calling humanity back to its primordial brotherhood.
The Holy Prophet [ Peace and blessings be upon him] the Mercy to the Worlds, taught through his words and actions the path of reconciliation. He forgave the people of Makkah who had persecuted him. He established treaties with neighbors and former adversaries.
He declared: “Shall I not inform you of something more excellent in degree than fasting, prayer and almsgiving?”
His companions eagerly asked what it was. The Prophet ﷺ replied: “It is setting right that which is between people. And spoiling that which is between people is the shaver (that which erases good deeds).” (Sunan Abu Dawood, Tirmidhi)

This teaching stands as a timeless mirror for India and Pakistan.
Though we are neighbouring nations and writers may wish for brotherly relations, there is not the slightest doubt that after the sacrifice of hundreds of thousands of lives, this willingness is not the seed of any reunion. It is simply the mature desire to live as good neighbours in peace.
Today, 117 prominent citizens from both nations, under the banner of the Centre for Peace and Progress, have raised their voices in a joint open letter to Prime Ministers Narendra Modi and Shehbaz Sharif. Signed by 61 from India and 56 from Pakistan, this letter arrives one year after Operation Sindoor. It urges an end to prolonged hostility and the revival of dialogue, diplomacy, and human connections.
Zafar Zaidi’s couplet—Ek darakht aisa muhabbat ka lagaya jaye, jis ka hamsaye ke aangan mein bhi saya jaye—captures the soul of mature neighborly relations. Plant a tree of love so vast and generous that its shade cools even the courtyard of your neighbor. Zafar Zaidi lived this longing. His sister crossed the oceans and borders to reach Newyork to donate her kidney, an act of profound love and sacrifice. Yet he passed away soon after—a tragic reminder that physical separation and unresolved pain can claim even the brightest poetic souls. His words, however, survive as a prayer for the subcontinent.
India and Pakistan are sovereign neighbours, not candidates for reunion. The sacrifices of history demand respect, not erasure. The 117 signatories—including Farooq Abdullah, Mehbooba Mufti, Mirwaiz Umar Farooq, Manoj Jha, Humayun Kabir, A.S. Dulat, Mani Shankar Aiyar from India, and Khurshid Mahmud Kasuri, Ashraf Jehangir Qazi, Pervez Hoodbhoy, Isphanyar Bhandara and others from Pakistan—carry the weight of lived history. Their appeal is practical yet profound: restore diplomatic ties, reinstate High Commissioners, resume visas, reopen airspace and Attari-Wagah, revive cross-border buses and sacred corridors, and resume structured dialogue on all issues, including Jammu & Kashmir, with steps toward demilitarization while addressing legitimate security concerns
That 1981 night at Studio 54’s reopening taught me something enduring. Beneath the glittering lights and pulsating energy, amid celebrities and dreamers, one felt the universal human hunger for connection. Meeting Brooke Shields—a symbol of grace amid glamour—reminded me that even in the most dazzling, divided worlds, moments of genuine encounter transcend barriers. If two strangers from different continents could share a warm conversation in the heart of Manhattan, why should sovereign neighbours across the Wagah border remain perpetual strangers?
The contrast haunts: while the world danced under Studio 54’s lights, the subcontinent nursed wounds of division. Zafar Zaidi’s tragic end—saved momentarily by his sister’s kidney from across the border, only to slip away—mirrors the region’s condition. Acts of love occur, yet systemic shadows of suspicion persist.
“No man is an island, entire of itself… any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind.” (John Donne)
This Western truth resonates with the Prophet’s ﷺ universal mercy. When one neighbour suffers unnecessarily, the whole region is diminished.
The Human and Economic Ledger
After the sacrifice of hundreds of thousands of lives, the path forward is clear: not reunion, but peaceful, dignified neighbourly coexistence. Terrorism remains a non-negotiable red line for India. Yet perpetual isolation is not strength.
As John F. Kennedy declared: “Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.”
This aligns with the Quranic command to incline toward peace when the other side does.
The economic prize of good neighbourly relations is immense: integrated energy grids, joint tourism, cultural revival, and trade that could add billions annually. The youth—connected yet divided—deserve opportunities, not inherited enmity.
Valid concerns persist: terror infrastructure, domestic politics, deep-state resistance, and the painful Kashmir question. Yet the letter proposes a wise sequence—begin with low-cost, high-impact measures (diplomats, visas, buses, religious access) to rebuild trust for deeper talks. Incrementalism worked before; it can again.
BaBa Tal’s appearance that rainy evening was no coincidence. His bells summon us to remember: love is the only tree worth planting. Its shade must reach the neighbour’s courtyard, as Zafar Zaidi dreamed, as the Holy Prophet ﷺ practiced, and as the 117 signatories now plead—not as a call for reunion, but as a mature call for two sovereign nations to live as good neighbours in peace.
To Prime Ministers Modi and P.M Sharif: History’s eyes are upon you. The rain of divine mercy is falling. The chiming grows louder. Incline toward peace, plant the tree, and rely upon Allah.
Wa ma tawfiqi illa billah.