http://www.indianexpress.com/full_story.php?content_id=75197
London post 7/7 from inside a cab VRINDA GOPINATH Posted online: Thursday, July 28, 2005 at 0045 hours IST It took two mini-cab drivers, one Indian, one Pakistani, to explain the sudden wall of ice that has come between Indians and Pakistanis in London, post-7/7, and the further freeze after 21/7. All this, in an island of black cabs, where prudent English cabbies caution you against rogue mini cabs get robbed, cheated or dumped, they warn. But then, who wants to stand bleary-eyed in a queue at the airport, and so, it was comforting to be greeted by the rotund Mr Alvares Almeida, at Terminal Four. By the time we hit the A4, Mr Almeida had established we were boorish northerners from India, while he was from sunny, south Goa. We were redeemed only after it was established we were from Bombay originally, and also Goa fiends, and he relaxed with familial cheer. Without further ado, Mr Almeida set off on a litany of complaints and a rendition of the benefits of being back home, sometimes swelling with nostalgic emotion, at other times, cursing native stupidity. Now that we had also established he had led a good 25 years in London Central he boasts, with fresh fish and meat cooked daily by his agreeable wife, it was mandatory to ask him about the 7/7 bombings. He stiffened and then burst forth, Those Paki b******, they have given us all a bad name. Advertisement There was no stopping Mr Affable Almeida, who went from being sunny to dark in an instant. Why do they want to live here if they want to lead separate lives? he demanded. Do you know, they wanted to wear the headdress to school, and protested on streets because it was not allowed? He spluttered with Christian scorn. They are a menace and the youth are violent, and the mosques, dangerous. Do you know, not once have the English ever said, Indians, Go Home. It is always, Pakis, Go Home. He underlined this statement with dramatic flourish. Perhaps it was Mr Almeidas Goanness, we thought, after all, he believed all northerners were coarse and jingoistic, so, no one paid much attention to his rant. But a few days later, in the first flush of 21/7 on a rainy evening, we were once again in a mini cab. This time it was a crisp Mr Afsal Khan who greeted us at the door. The moment he saw our Indianness, he went from familiar to distant. The customary Punjabiyat that normally followed was barely uttered, but curiosity got the better of him. Mr Khan established we were from Delhi, and he, from around the corner, Islamabad. The frostiness soon explained the sudden stiff and wooden courtesies of the two neighbourhood Pakistani grocers, the off-licence guys for a midnight bottle of Vodka and Tonic, pack of fags, or for a breakfast melon. But the penny did not drop until Mr Khan appeared again, in a fatalistic twist, at the front door to take me to the airport. I almost believed he asked for the assignment, and it was a re-run on the motorway. The trendy, bald-shaven, Mr Khan, in his Mercedes SL 300, he boasted, was also from Central London, and lived a good 30 years in the city, with none of the ghetto mentality of suburban London. Was he angry by the bombings? Mr Khan swerved from being demonic to being in denial.It was a political meltdown, and India became the beast of the sub-continent, brutal to Kashmiris, Muslims etc., etc. But the years of comradeship of being an Asian abroad prevailed on him, and Khan bemoaned his sudden ethnic isolation, and why Pakistani youth, unlike other Asians, were turning to violence. We have no control on our kids anymore, he said with his Pak-Punjabi nasal twang, I believe many go to Pakistan and come back changed. It is terrible. He blamed the Iraq War, and the murderous West, for the London bombings. There is a lot of violence and a lot of unhappiness, he added for measure. Perhaps his aggression comes from a bad diet? Mr Almeidas good cheer comes from a good stomach. Mr Khan burst out. Do you know even the meat at the butchers could be five years old? I heard it on the radio. But it made up his mind for the future. I think I will go back home.