There’s a familiar ache in the hearts of many from the Indian subcontinent, a deep, unspoken grief at what could have been. It’s the kind of melancholy that arises when two people who were once one, sever ties and take separate paths, only to realize years later that their fates were always intertwined. India and Pakistan, two nations born of a bitter and bloody partition, continue to live in each other’s shadows, burdened by a shared history but separated by borders that defy the cultural, linguistic, and familial ties that have always connected their people.
In my quieter moments, I often wonder what the subcontinent might look like today if, after 1947, the leaders and people of India and Pakistan had chosen a different path. If instead of allowing external powers, ideological divides, and old grievances to harden into enmity, they had chosen cooperation, what kind of world would we be living in today? What if, like the Czech Republic and Slovakia, India and Pakistan had charted their own courses while maintaining peaceful coexistence, shared trade, and open borders? The tragedy of partition might still have happened, but its legacy could have been one of growth, healing, and unity, rather than division, conflict, and suspicion.
The external powers, of course, played their part in shaping the destiny of the subcontinent. The Cold War drew lines of allegiance and suspicion across the globe, and South Asia was not immune to its reach. Pakistan, in seeking security from India, aligned itself with the United States, while India, committed to non-alignment but leaning toward the Soviet Union, found itself at odds with its neighbor. These alliances didn’t merely reflect geopolitical strategy; they fed into the already simmering tensions between the two nations. Pakistan sought to counterbalance India’s size and influence through military aid and alliances, while India, wary of external interference, pushed for economic and strategic autonomy. What if, instead of choosing to be pawns in a larger game, both nations had committed to true non-alignment? What if they had stood together, working to stabilize not just their own relationship but the region as a whole?
Afghanistan, that land of ancient civilizations, could have been spared much of the devastation it has faced over the past several decades. With India and Pakistan acting as a united force for peace in the region, Afghanistan could have become a bridge between Central and South Asia, rather than the site of a proxy war. The domino effect of cooperation in South Asia could have led to a more stable, prosperous region. Instead of a zone of perpetual conflict, the Indian subcontinent might have become a beacon of peace, trade, and cultural exchange, attracting investments and intellectual capital from all over the world. Pakistan and India together, with their combined influence, could have helped shape Afghanistan’s path, offering it stability and growth rather than becoming yet another theater for global power struggles.
I think about how the natural resources, ingenuity, and intellectual capital of this region could have been harnessed for mutual benefit. A cooperative approach would have seen shared investments in agriculture, technology, and industry. The mighty rivers that cross borders could have been managed together, providing water and food security for hundreds of millions of people, rather than sparking disputes and tensions. The Thar Desert, which sprawls across the borders of India and Pakistan, could have been a joint project in environmental sustainability, turning barren land into thriving ecosystems.
Culturally, the potential for connection is equally moving. Imagine a world where Pakistan and India routinely competed on the cricket pitch, not with the weight of political animosity, but with a sense of friendly rivalry. Arshad Nadeem and Neeraj Chopra, the javelin champions who represent the best of athletic talent from their respective countries, would have been celebrated for their camaraderie, not as exceptions to the rule but as the embodiment of it. Their smiles, their mutual respect, and the joy they took in each other’s victories could have set the tone for all future competition between the two nations: not to dominate, but to uplift.
The subcontinent has always been rich in art, music, and film. Bollywood, with its global reach, could have found its perfect complement in Pakistan’s thriving music scene and television dramas. We already see glimpses of this potential in moments when artists from both sides collaborate despite the odds. Imagine a subcontinent where Lata Mangeshkar and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan shared the stage more often, where cross-border productions became the norm rather than the exception. The fusion of Indian and Pakistani art could have created a cultural powerhouse, unparalleled in the world.
The tourism industry, too, could have flourished in ways we can barely imagine today. Instead of the Alps being the ultimate honeymoon destination for South Asians, they could have been flocking to each other’s hill stations, beaches, and deserts. The stunningly scenic valleys of Kashmir, which today stand as a stark reminder of our unresolved conflict, could have been the “Switzerland of Asia,” a land of shared natural beauty rather than contested territory. Picture the beaches of Gujarat and Sindh, not divided by barbed wire, but as destinations for tourists from both countries. Imagine a Chitral youth dipping their feet in the confluence of the Bay of Bengal and Arabian Sea, feeling the full breadth of the subcontinent from mountain to coast. Picture a Mizo student visiting the ancient ruins of Harappa, tracing the origins of civilization in the same land that gave birth to their own modern identity.
And what if the regions torn apart by the border could have instead been sources of collaboration? The opportunities for exploration, education, and connection would have opened for every citizen, from the highest peaks of the Karakoram to the furthest reaches of the Andaman Islands. The rich heritage, the spiritual sites, the historical jewels could have been part of a vibrant cross-border economy, where people from both sides traveled freely, appreciating the richness of their shared history, and held their head high in the pride that comes only from knowing that they did not let differences take from them their cherished and celebrated past.
What saddens me most is that this isn’t a fantasy that requires wild imagination. The people of India and Pakistan, for all the animosity that exists at a political level, are not fundamentally different from each other. Our languages, our food, our customs, our festivals, and our traditions are reflections of a shared past. Punjab, Bengal, Sindh, Kashmir—these are not just territories, they are places where families were torn apart, where shared memories linger in the hearts of those who lived through partition. The modern borders divide not two different peoples, but the same people.
What if the governments had chosen to focus on these shared aspects of our identity, rather than deepening the divides? The youth of both nations could have grown up seeing each other as friends, competitors, collaborators—partners in the journey of life. Shared educational programs could have allowed students to study across the border, learning from one another’s institutions. Joint research initiatives could have seen Indian and Pakistani scientists working together on global challenges—climate change, public health, technological innovation. The brain drain that both countries experience might have been mitigated if the subcontinent had been seen as a united front for intellectual and scientific advancement.
Perhaps one of the most compelling possibilities lies in the way our youth could have been engaged. Imagine talent exchanges between our universities, where young people from Karachi and Mumbai, Lahore and Delhi, Chennai and Quetta, Gilgit and Agartala, spent semesters at each other’s institutions, not as tourists but as peers, building lifelong connections. Think of the joint research centers, the co-owned cultural festivals, the annual sporting events that brought people together, not to prove who was superior, but to celebrate the immense talents and potential of both nations. How could this not have had a ripple effect across the world, changing perceptions of the subcontinent from one of conflict to one of creativity, collaboration, and growth?
I think of the missed opportunities in infrastructure development, joint public health programs, environmental sustainability efforts, and scientific collaboration. Together, India and Pakistan could have spearheaded the fight against climate change in South Asia. We could have stood as a united front in addressing regional issues, from the monsoon floods that devastate millions to the droughts that ravage our crops. We could have been a global model for how countries with a complex and difficult history can still come together for the greater good.
Instead, we are left with the realities of a divided subcontinent, where suspicion, political posturing, and militarization dominate the conversation. I do not deny the complexity of our history or the wounds of partition, but I can’t help but think that had we chosen a different path, we could have created something extraordinary—something that would have set a new precedent for the world. The division between India and Pakistan was supposed to give both countries their own sense of sovereignty and identity, but it has done so at the cost of unity and progress.
What could have been? A South Asia that stood tall, not as two hostile nations but as partners in progress. A region where peace, prosperity, and collaboration were the order of the day, where the borders might have been real, but they never became barriers. A subcontinent where the memories of partition were allowed to heal, and where the people, rich in shared culture and history, were free to dream of a brighter future—together.
Oh, what could have been.