How Pakistan is preserving its culture better than India

On the eve of Independence Day, having just returned from Pakistan, and marked my presence on the "zero" line, I could not but help wonder what kind of identities our two 69-year-old nations project. And how representative they are in reality.

In India, are we looking at a single dominant identity or will we continue as a collection of myriad religions, communities and cultures? Aren't our multiple religions our heritage, which is to be preserved?

Certainly, Pakistan seems to have sorted the problem by declaring its identity as an Islamic Republic, and so the overwhelming image is very much of a Muslim country. Whether it is the language, or the attire, or the food (barring a very cosmopolitan culture in some cities), Pakistan takes pride in creating its own ethos. Perhaps this was essential, given the short history of its existence.

But what about our collective pre-history? How does one deal with it? That was a looming question, when we visited Taxila, in Pakistan, an ancient site which had witnessed both war and peace, but had also seen knowledge sprout and spread in monastic schools scattered over a vast area. The ruins are compelling. And much of what remains is starkly of Buddhist origin. The museum and the first archeological digs which were pulled together by Sir John Marshall in the early 20th century demonstrated what a large habitation this might have been, definitely dating back more than 2000 years.

In the literature handed out by the museum it seems this area, near the Indus, was even inhabited in 3100 BC. But it is clear that a lot of the religious history of the subcontinent is buried here. While there are some suggestions that the Mahabharata was first recited in this area, there are also the well-preserved Buddhist stupas and shrines, and, from a much later medieval period, evidence of madrasas and a mosque.

We visited one of the most impressive sites, at Jaulian, where a school of learning had been established, around 2000 years ago, on top of a hill. It was obviously a Buddhist school, with intricate remnants still to be found of stupas and the Buddha replicated over and over again. Could the methodical repetition of the images have been a form of meditation? Or of prayer? Why was there this constant replication of his life, often within the same space? Was this done deliberately to assert a religion which was no doubt flourishing in that period?

The school at Jaulian appears, even now, to be well-planned and spread out, and the entire structure is hewn out of the locally available stone. The living quarters are carefully defined, and small, ventilated rooms stand on a square. There is a dry pond in the centre, where, according to our guide, once upon a time, lilies blossomed. All around are shuttered alcoves within which reside more images of the Buddha.

It is undoubtedly an amazing experience to see how well preserved (given the harsh climate, and the attacks by invaders) many of the images still are. And then there are little interesting highlights, such as the lecture hall, and the kitchen area, opening up on all sides to the hills, and the open skies.

One can imagine this as a bustling Buddhist enclave, somewhat distant from present day Pakistan or even India. Is there something of those times still within us? Do we still bear the ancient stamp of those identities, and hear within us the chanting of those monks... Our shared history has so many questions, and conundrums! We should find a common space to both treasure and resolve them.