From Kashmir to Karachi, from Delhi to Lahore—our stories are tied together. But this shared legacy is being stolen by those who benefit from hate.
It is time to open doors, not dig trenches. Time to speak, not shoot. Time to build, not burn.
Dr. Muhammad Mataro Hingorjo | Ireland
Today, the subcontinent stands on the edge of a dangerous cliff. Two nuclear powers—India and Pakistan—share a border filled with soldiers, suspicion, and silence. Tensions rise with every small spark, and common people on both sides live in fear, not of each other, but of what their leaders might do next. The people of South Asia—who once lived, prayed, ate, and celebrated together—are now prisoners of borders, politics, and propaganda.
But it doesn’t have to stay this way.
There is a lesson we can learn from across the world—from the history of Ireland and the United Kingdom. Like us, they too had a long and painful story. Ireland was ruled by the British for centuries. Its people fought for independence, suffered partition, and faced bitter violence in Northern Ireland. Hundreds died. Communities were torn apart. There were religious and political divisions—just like we see between Hindus and Muslims in our region.
But over time, both countries chose peace over pride. Instead of blaming each other forever, they started talking. They signed the Good Friday Agreement in 1998. Today, the border between Ireland and Northern Ireland is peaceful. Trade is open. Students from both sides study together. Families cross freely. Despite the pain of the past, they built a future where peace and progress matter more than ego and revenge.
So the big question is: If they can do it, why can’t we?
India and Pakistan are not strangers to each other. We are brothers and sisters of the same soil. We speak the same languages, enjoy the same food, cry to the same music, and carry the same cultural memories. From Kashmir to Karachi, from Delhi to Lahore—our stories are tied together. But this shared legacy is being stolen by those who benefit from hate.
Let us be honest. The real enemies of peace are not the common people. They are some short-sighted politicians, military powers, and business tycoons who thrive on conflict. War gives them power, money, and control. Every time there is tension, weapons are sold, elections are won through fear, and people’s hopes are burned. But who pays the price? Farmers, laborers, students, and poor families on both sides.
Instead of spending billions on bombs, imagine spending on hospitals, schools, and jobs. Imagine artists performing in both countries, cricket fans cheering together, families reuniting, and trade markets booming with opportunities. Peace is not just an emotion—it is an investment in our children’s future.
Of course, peace is not easy. It requires courage—not of guns, but of hearts. It needs wise leadership and patient dialogue. It demands that we give up the politics of hate and think long-term—for the next generation, not the next election.
We, the people of South Asia, must raise our voices for peace. We must demand that our leaders act like statesmen, not warmongers. Let us learn from Ireland and the UK, who found a way forward without forgetting the past. Let our history be a teacher, not a prison.
It is time to open doors, not dig trenches. Time to speak, not shoot. Time to build, not burn.
Because at the end of the day, we are not just neighbors—we are a family divided by history but united by destiny.
Read: A Slow War on Sindh’s Protesters
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Dr. Muhammad Mataro Hingorjo is a Family Physician originally from village Dhandhi Hingorja, Tharpakar, Sindh, currently residing in Limerick Ireland.
