My decision to exit Pakistan was quite impulsive. Jamiyaat Islami Party in Lahore was becoming quite aggressive and streets of the city were not so friendly anymore. One June morning I hopped out of my rickshaw in Annarkali Bazaar to meet with my Japanese friend Kioshi-yoshi-zava and walk together to our classes when suddenly all shopkeepers were in frenzy to close their stores..the sound of falling shades and first stones being thrown...A friendly hand pulled us indoors and then we waited for an hour in a safe seclusion for the pro-Zia demonstrators to pass. We were few steps away from the College and as soon as natural rhytm of the bazaar returned to normal we ran for cover. We were the only foreigners who made it to school that day. As we opened our textbooks the windows shattered - apparently a bomb exploded one classroom down. Enough excitement, I am taking a break ! I made it to a rickshaw, made it back to the convent and informed my wonderful sisters of my sudden desire to check out India.... I had couple addresses in Delhi to stay over plus I had my pen-pal in Jullundhur - what could be simpler ? A bus loaded with local domesticated animals and their owners took forever to crawl towards the border. Then - it stopped. Endless fields, yellowish sunset burning everything in sight - where the hell was the border ? I followed the signs. A checkpoint, kia hal he (how are you), shukriyya (thank you) off I walk. And walk. And walk. What if Sher-Khan jumps out from the woods, I thought, thinking of Kipling. But there it was, finally, another checkpoint. "Namaste" and "dhanyavat" (hello and thank you)and I am in India. What India ??? A ghost place with everything in sight closed. No buses, no cabs, no foreign exchange booth. An absolute middle of nowhere. So I sat there on a nearby stone and then I saw birds. Waiting. Big, hungry birds. Ugly creatures with naked throats with no feathers waiting for the first sign of my dehydration...

It was early summer of 1984 when I decided to temporary disappear in India - was it another Murphy's Law ?? For I was running away from political disturbance and riots in Lahore and of course managed to enter India in June when Indian troops, opposing a militant Sikh separatist movement, shot their way into the Golden Temple, killing more than 400 people inside. The massacre in Amritsar later on created disturbances in all India and subsequently led to the murder of Indira Gandhi in October that year - she was shot by two Sikhs from her security forces. Border guards kindly explained to me that everything was closed: all banks, offices, transportation because of disturbances in Amritsar which was some 30 km away. With every passing hour the birds were getting closer and closer to me. I noticed I was not the only one stranded in the middle of nowhere - there was a group of four Nigerian tourists standing nearby in a state of deep agitation. Beats me how they managed to telepathically haul a cab but I ended up getting a ride with them. The cab driver attempted to enter the town through different streets, alas there were military everywhere and our entry kept being denied. Finally we sneaked in. It was like a ghost city. No people in sight. Empty, quiet streets, broken windows, trashed pavements, barricades here and there and an ominous sounds of shootouts in the nearby distance. So much for escaping guns being fired in Lahore !!! Finally military police caught up with our cab (which must have been the only vehicle moving around), and under heavy escort hoarded us to a hotel which was the closest one to the railroad station. The locked us in a lobby, warned not to leave and wait for the first train out. The four Nigerian guys turned out to be quite friendly. Upon finding out that I was from Poland they immediately came up with an idea of marrying me off to one of their brothers who lived in Brooklyn, NYC, for a nominal fee of course, to help me move to the land of plenty. I took the address - just in case, and the train arrived. Police escorted us to it and warned to go directly to Delhi. Finally, off we go. I stood in the open window trying to grasp a bit of what was going on out there; I lit up a cigarette and suddenly the train attendant grabbed me and pulled inside, shutting the window down: "not allowed" - he said. "They will shoot". So the train dragged and dragged and I sneaked out when it stopped on Jullundhur station. After all I didn't want to go to Delhi quite yet and nobody will be telling me where to go ! A small Punjabi town - home of my pen-pal of few years. I figured with some luck he might be still living there.

I was lucky again. I moved in with my small backpack - no questions asked. The very next day I went with the whole family to purchase some cotton cloth for my new shalvar-qameez (here we go again !) and it was made in couple hours. I was decently dressed and as such accepted in my new family. I had a wonderful time there. Despite tensions in nearby Amritsar, Jullundhur or Jalandar) was not afftected by them and I was immersed in life of this colorful little town. Such a dramatic difference from Pakistani cities. Here, I felt immediately a sense of belonging and acceptance while in Lahore I constantly had to watch my back. We went to temples and bazaars, walked the streets, visited stores, gave right of way to numerous cows, hid from burning sun...The matriarch of the family taught me how to prepare chapati and real curry. In the evenings we sat on the roof of the house enjoying cooler breeze and eating dinner which I helped to prepare.

My Hindi was improving on a daily basis. In this peaceful oasis of hospitality I began to realize the amount of stress I was under in Lahore and I grew to appreciate India even more...On the other hand I didn't want to overextend my surprise visit and a week or so later I decided to depart to the unknown. Search through my notes produced a long forgotten address of a Polish couple who at the time lived in New Delhi and worked for the WHO. I didn't know them, of course - someone gave me their address before I left Poland - just in case I decided to waltz to India. And so waltz I did and in no time I presented myself at the door of an impressive looking house in New Delhi.