One of my favourite travel experiences is joining the Indian crowd cheering for their soldiers trooping off to the Gate with archrivals Pakistan in a solemn spectacle for the border closing ceremony at Attari-Wagah, 30km north of Amritsar.
A Sikh parade commander yells commands and legs kicking, feet stomping and arms swinging they march in pressed ceremonial khakis with peacock plumes on their berets and turbans to the wrought iron gate which cuts India and Pakistan - once one country.
Civility and respect prevail as the parade commanders execute a perfunctory handshake, before the flags are lowered, keeping diplomatically at the same level and the gate closed for the night. The tricolour Indian flag is then carefully folded and marched back to the border post by a proud young soldier.
Before the march to the border it was a party - jubilant Indians dancing in saris on their side of the frontier, Bollywood hits pumping from loudspeakers. Tiny Indian flags and cold water are peddled to the swelling crowd by enterprising young man dodging lathis (rattan canes) of police officers. An army sergeant works the crowd from the army post, booming nationalist slogans and leading choruses of "Hindustan, zindabad!" (long live Hindustan) while tiny Indian flags flutter and wave in the swelling, bursting sea of people.
It was also, by the way, the closest i came to being crushed in a crowd.
This, by the way (again) was the VIP area which i managed to get into.
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