Karishma and the team pulled up to one of the high schools in Central Delhi, the car's engine humming to a stop. As they stepped out, Karishma leaned closer to Trisha and asked, "What is she doing here?"
Trisha followed Karishma's gaze and spotted Haseena conversing with a group of teachers. Her face lit with a welcoming smile. "Her contacts organized this. Of course, she will be here."
Karishma's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why don't we have contacts?"
Trisha sighed, sensing the familiar edge in Karishma's tone. "Because we don't live in Pakistan and never worked for CAP (Citizen Archives of Pakistan)."
"Or because we don't have a husband working in high places," Karishma muttered, her words tinged with bitterness.
Trisha turned to look at Karishma, confusion mixed with frustration on her face. "okay..What is your problem with her? Why can't you accept her help? Why do you always have to be so opposed to it?"
Karishma didn't respond, her eyes fixed on Haseena, who seemed oblivious to the tension brewing just a few feet away. Trisha rolled her eyes, plastering a polite smile as they approached the group of teachers and Haseena.
The school welcomed them warmly and led the way to a bright, spacious room filled with about 30 or 35 students aged 14 to 16, each with a laptop in front of them. These students were participants in CAP's Exchange for Change program. Every two weeks, students from India engaged in a 30-minute call with their counterparts in Pakistan. The program had evolved from writing letters across the border to face-to-face conversations, with plans for students to visit Pakistan through an exchange program eventually.
The program's premise was profound: most Indians and Pakistanis lived their entire lives without ever communicating with each other. Exchanging slurs under the comment section does not count. It is the product of a narrative created on both sides to see one another as 'different.'
CAP and its Indian counterpart, Routes2Roots (R2R), have partnered with schools nationwide to facilitate more humane contact between the two countries in the hope of defeating animosity.
Karishma's team was there to film one of these exchanges and speak with the students to delve deeper into the program's impact.
As they set up their equipment, Haseena moved effortlessly among the students, offering words of encouragement and charming them with her friendliness. Then she moved to the front and explained the filming process to students and why Karishma's Team was here today.
Karishma discussed her vision for the shoot with the videographers Hasan and Minal. Amid their discussion, a corner of the room drew her attention. There, Haseena was engaged in a delicate interaction with a teacher who was scheduled to be interviewed. The teacher, an older woman in her mid-40s, appeared anxious, her hands shaking slightly as she smoothed down her sari.
Haseena gently adjusted the microphone on the teacher's sari, her touch light and respectful. "Have you ever done this before?" Haseena asked, her voice a soft balm to the teacher's nerves.
The teacher shook her head, her eyes darting around nervously. "I have not," she admitted, her voice trembling. "My face is not camera-friendly."
Haseena's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "Now, who told you that?" she asked, her tone blending disbelief and reassurance.
The teacher hesitated, clearly taken aback by Haseena's unexpected kindness. "Just... people," she mumbled, her eyes avoiding Haseena's gaze.
Haseena shook her head, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Well, those people were wrong. You have a wonderful presence, and the camera will love you."
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In-yeon
FanfictionIt's an In-yeon if two strangers even walk by each other on the street and their clothes accidentally brush. Because it means there must have been something between them in their past lives. If two people get married, they say it's because there hav...
