Not-so-special feeling in a special place

Deepti Verma

Tribune News Service

Dera Baba Nanak, December 4

December 5 and 6 are special days for the Indian Army and Dera Baba Nanak (DBN), but special is not exactly what this strategic border town in Gurdaspur district feels 45 years after those ‘Battle Honour’ days in 1971.

It was on the night of December 5, 1971, that the Army’s Dera Baba Nanak Brigade was ordered to capture a crucial bridge to deny a launch pad to the Pakistan army. It met with heavy resistance during the offensive in the enemy territory, but the bridge was captured by 5.15 am. As a tribute to the valour displayed (10 soldiers were martyred), Dera Baba Nanak Day is observed on the two days every year.

A border fence has come up since, there are new fortifications, but like the fog that hangs heavy over the agricultural fields, there’s a heavy feeling one gets in the area.

It is reflected in the conversation of a small crowd on a mound right next to the border fencing. “Can you see Kartarpur Sahib gurdwara?” Where’s the durbeen (binoculars)?” a tourist asks. There is a collective guffaw when the Border Security Force guard says, “It was stolen a few days ago.” They strain their eyes for a glimpse of the shrine across the border, but the fog makes the task difficult.

The way to the ‘darshan sthal’ is through a BSF check-post, where each visitor is required to register before being allowed to go about a kilometre further down.

Devotees gather at the raised platform — dedicated to the ‘sangat’ by the BSF in 2008 — to catch a glimpse of the place associated with the first Sikh Guru in what is now Pakistan through a pair of binoculars, “which is missing”. A high observation post is manned by BSF men nearby. Diagonally opposite is a similar post, with a Pakistani flag fluttering over it.

A local resident points to a passage leading to the other side of the border towards Kartarpur Sahib, about 4 km away. “Eh nai khulna… chaahe jehri marzi government aajave (This corridor won’t open no matter which government comes),” he says.

This reality of being so close and yet so far is an issue that rankles for the faithful, but Dera Baba Nanak also seems to have accumulated over the years a lack of faith in the State’s desire to bring change. And that perhaps has resulted in complacency that could be amusing to a visitor — like the sight of a motorcycle left idling in a corner of a street with a strange contraption attached at the back. It can ferry anything and everything: cauliflower in dozens, kids, some men or whatever they can pick as a utility.

At the core, however, is a wryness that brings out the emptiness of the place — in the routine of its residents deprived of good roads, a college, adequate transport facilities, in shops that continue to sell war souvenirs, plastic dolls and toy guns, rarely seen in semi-urban villages.

Yet, like several residents, Gurpreet Kaur comes up with this: “Rabb da ditta sabb kuchch hai (God has given us everything).” They’ve stopped complaining; it has no meaning, elections or no elections.

Today, the town revels in its bounty of cauliflower and a good paddy season. “Allow us unhindered access to Kartarpur Sahib and give us a good school and college, we’ll manage the rest,” says a youth, pillion-riding on a motorbike that also ferries vegetables. Dera Baba Nanak awaits that day.