On the streets of Pakistan people are resisting old-school warmongers to call loudly for peace

As tensions rose throughout the day, you had television news ablaze with patriotism. But the mood in the streets was palpably different

I woke up in Islamabad to the knowledge that Pakistan may be on the brink of war. Not an incredible reality given that it is Pakistan. However, my reality living and working in Islamabad differs from the Pakistan presented in the news cycle. Most days when I’m not reporting I’m frequenting Aussie-style coffee joints for a flat white, hiking on the Margalla Hills and enjoying dinner in the city’s bustling restaurant scene.

But now I was faced with the prospect of war. Pakistan and India had engaged in airstrikes deep into each other’s territory. What stood out this time was that never before had either country veered beyond the infamous Line of Control. Not since 1971 has there been such an escalation in tensions between the warring neighbours: the stakes were high and I knew the alert was considerable. As a reporter in this region, it is very important to acknowledge the importance of perceptions. This is a nation living on the edge.

I called a Careem, Pakistan’s equivalent of Uber, to begin my day of reporting and attempt to work out the severity of the situation. The cab driver, as usual, asked me politely where I was from and how long I’d lived in Islamabad, due to my Englistani Urdu accent. He asked if I had heard about the Balakot attack, I told him that I had and that I was travelling to report on the situation. Our conversation continued as we chatted about the highs and lows of and labyrinthine nature of the Pakistani parliament.

But before I leave the cab, the driver stops me, and says: “You know what really annoys us Pakistanis is how much they underestimate us. So please tell the western media, it’s much more than bombs and biryani here. We are far more capable!”

As tensions rose throughout the day, you had television news ablaze with patriotism. Talk show hosts shows dressed in military uniforms, the talking heads on news channels affronting the Indian aggression. It is difficult most days to watch Pakistani media but the flag-waving was amplified.

However, on the streets the narrative was different. Young guys on rollerblades were holding placards amongst the traffic shouting “say no to war”; while juice sellers conversed with fellow shopkeepers arguing for the need for calm in their homeland. Not only for them but also for the sake of their Indian counterparts, one stallholder emphatically told me “our calls for peace is not a weakness, the Indian government is hurting us but yet we choose to rise above”. Women are often asked to take a back seat in public matters in this pocket of the world. But at Islamabad’s press club a female reporter held a sign with the words “Women Say No To War”. Many women are now strongly advocating for joining hands in peace in India, Pakistan and Kashmir.

People in Britain are primarily aware of the terror groups that have been slowly shaping the rise in religiosity in Pakistan. Therefore, when the Pulwama attack occurred many would not have been surprised at the news of a Pakistani terror group Jaish e Mohammed claiming responsibility. As a Brit of Pakistani heritage, it has always been a struggle to explain to those back home the complexities of Pakistan. There are a range of tribes of ancient traditions that reside in harmony in the melting pot that is present day Pakistan. But that image of this young country gets very little air time.

What does unite Pakistanis is their resilience – they are very much aware their politicians have made some suicidal decisions regarding the direction of their nation. But for most people the politicians are not their go-to in matters of crisis.

The closure of the airspace had heightened the already tense situation. No longer used by commercial airlines, fighter jets now controlled the skies. Between the journalists and politicians, the conversations became more alarmed. The military is on red alert and ready to respond on short notice. But as the fighter jets swirled around the night sky, the Twitter feeds of the young and old – hearing the roar of the Pakistan Air Force – were filled with calls for calm and prayer.

Pakistanis did not rest easy that night due to the uncertainty of what Modi’s next move would be. But while political posturing and military might has framed the relationship of these warring neighbours for decades, on this monumental day it was apparent that the Pakistani people are ready to lead with peace.