Line of Control?

I do not know how to communicate the idea of a "line of control" in either Hindi or Punjabi. The cartographers in New Dehli and Islamabad might well employ other terms for their so-called common border. I had never even seen footage of the land around the line until recently. That changed only when earthquake recovery prompted a shift in priorities for the governments of both India and Pakistan. It was on November 8th, 2005 when the first trucks filled with supplies for the quake victims arrived and for the first time in the history of the two nations, in front of all the cameras, something other than mortars and malice crossed the line of control. I watched the citizens of Kashmir, the flashpoint of the 2,912 km divide, lining up at the line, eager to see if they too could make the crossing, desperate to end long exiles from their families and communities. November 8th was not to be their day.

Witnessing, on the evening news, the melange of hope and suspicion on their faces, I was confronted with the myth, the curious notion that this area is, in fact, a "line of control." If that were so, exactly who would be in control there? Would it be India? Would it be Pakistan? I am certain both sides would agree that neither is in complete control of the border. Yet, in light of an extremely delicate cease fire and the continuous military presence outside of the line, it would be difficult to argue that they are controlling the line cooperatively. As far as I can tell, the reality is that no one is in control at the line of control. If anything, it could be said that the line of control itself appears to be exerting the control for which it is named, arbitrarily restricting the mobility of the people living around it, in spite of any other considerations.