Why do Pakistanis watch Indian films? This may seem like an absurd question to most of us here because we’ve never seriously thought about it. For us, it’s a way of life. Despite the decades-long ban where we could not watch them in cinema houses, we found ways and means of going around the ban. In the form of Doordarshan, on video cassettes, almost always relying on the Hindi filmi songs caught on Medium and Short Wave, in the form of records, audio cassettes, whatever. The last one we could never do without.

Therefore, one is surprised to know the question has been addressed as one with some academic value. Serious treatises have been written on the subject, dealing largely with the strength of Indian cinema and the reasons of the decadence of the industry in Lahore.

A simple question put by someone from across the border, available online, deserves some attention though. The person writing the blog calls it an "honest question" that is not meant to provoke "fighting or abuse". And the question is: How do Pakistanis feel about watching Bollywood considering they’re taught India is an enemy and anti-Islam from elementary school?

The observation seems so correct. Yet on an ordinary day one could say one isn’t bothered, and live with the two realities quite comfortably. After all, one has heard of stories of soldiers on this side of the border spending many an evening watching these films.

But these are different days; once again one should say.

Read also: "We have torpedoed our industry out of notions of honour"

The political tension between the two countries has once again taken its toll on the arts. The Indian films have remained banned, a self-imposed retaliatory ban one must add, from the Pakistani screens for the past many months. With the cinemas wearing a deserted look and the industry on this side coming on the verge of collapse, the ban has been lifted. But what are being shown now are old films; the new ones need a No Objection Certificate that doesn’t look like coming so easily.

At this point in time, there is a sense of personal loss -- for not being able to watch these films on the big screen that people had gotten used to in the last eight years or so. This brings us back to the original question: Why do Pakistanis watch Indian films? What is it about these films that makes Pakistanis forget all lessons of nationalism?

We need to understand this because post Uri, the tall claims of nationalism in a war-like situation on both sides have taken these films away from people. It is in this climate that the Indian Information and Broadcasting minister M. Venkaiah Naidu, while responding to the government stance on the decision to boycott Pakistani artistes, was forced to say "It is very simple to say art has no boundaries; but countries have boundaries".

He said it: Art has no boundaries. That’s what Indian films and music have always been for their Pakistani audience, art without a national stamp; except that here was a connection which already existed that they have not been able to sever.

It’s a pity this need to be stated again that art knows no geography and has a language that is universal. It is because of this universality of language of art that 90 per cent of its readers in the world have read War and Peace in translation. In these two countries, when it comes to film, there is no need to even translate. The swear words resound like nothing else.

So we mourn Om Puri, not because he stood for a political cause but because we have watched and enjoyed his art. The Lata-Asha and Rafi-Kishore comparisons have been made in the Pakistani drawing rooms with as much authority as anywhere else. The ordinary Pakistanis of the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s were as conversant with all Bollywood scandals, mostly through film magazines, as the Google generation of today. It is as if we have lived the lives of Meena Kumari and Guru Dutt and so on.

Watching an Indian film has been a collective experience that no historical bifurcation could ever impact.

Yet the binary has been often drawn on various pretexts. The Syed Noors and Sangeetas have fought a long battle in demanding a total ban on Indian films, in the name of protecting the ‘Pakistani’ film industry. Along with individual talent moving across and proving its worth, we often hear artistes claiming they are not interested in working in India "despite all offers". Reason: they are "patriotic Pakistanis".

To be fair, the Syed Noors and Sangeetas were given a long time to prove their point. They could not. The recent ban and the ensuing empty cinemas and their cold pop corns should be the last reminder. The cinema industry in Pakistan was revived on the strength of Indian films alone and nothing else, films that people watch anyway on small screens at home.

The claims that the industry will be viable if we are able to produce 50 films a year of our own remain ridiculous at best. Even if we produce 150 films a year, the demand for Indian cinema will not dry.

Besides, a protected film industry will only churn out mediocre stuff, if only because it is not exposed to modern developments and experimentation next door. You cannot produce a film for cinema unless you have watched them in hundreds and thousands on the big screen (here one is referring to the subcontinental song-and-dance variety that is the essence of the region). The new breed of film-makers missed that chance while they were growing up. They have only watched them on small screens; no wonder our films look more like television plays.

We need more cross-cultural exchanges and not less. It’s a win-win situation for both countries. As for the question "how do Pakistanis feel about watching Bollywood considering they’re taught India is an enemy and anti-Islam from elementary school?" here’s an easy answer. Pakistanis feel very good watching Bollywood despite having been taught India is an enemy and anti-Islam from elementary school.

What more proof does art need for its validation?