SLAMABAD and Rawalpindi are generally referred to as the `twin cities` which is a misnomer by any standard.

Twin cities are unique cases of cities that have close geographical proximity and eventually grow into each other, losing their individual identities.

Minneapolis-Saint Paul metropolitan area in the State of Minnesota epitomises the true meaning of the term. In many historical cases, cities grow into each other`s space and eventually lose their original identities.

Budapest, for example, is a combination of two settlements Buda and Pest which parented this metropolis. Indeed, Islamabad and Rawalpindi are physically close, and indeed it may one day lose the buffer zone between, but chances of the two cities growing into each are far from remote for various reasons.

The so-called twin cities are far from identical despite having some commonalities owing to its origin and cultural belief system.

Rawalpindi, for instance, evolved from a backwater village to a transit camp, sanctuary to fleeing Afghan ruler Shah Shjua and his brother Shah Zaman, a sprawling cantonment during the British Raj, and eventually earned the honour of being the largest military garrison of the Raj.

Soon after Independence in 1947, Rawalpindi was swarmed with refugees from UP and CP provinces of India, followed by refugees from Kashmir. With Islamabad coming into being and the strengthening of General Headquarters (GHQ) of Pakistan Army, hordes of people from the adjoining Hazara Division and Galiat areas moved to Rawalpindi for better prospects.

The demographics of Rawalpindi eventually became more heterogeneous as refugees from across the border moved southward to Karachi and Hyderabad. According to 1998 census, Punjabi, with a dominant Pothowari dialect, remains the language of 90 per cent of Rawalpindi residents.

The one thing that Rawalpindi does share with its not-so-identical twin is the `kala pul` syndrome. Social stratification, not inits radicalsense, exists in both cities, where locales are inhabited by people belonging to a certain class. These unmarked boundaries are seldom crossed and parallel cultures exist in both cities.

For instance, localities such as Lalazar, Westridge, of late Bahria Town and DHA share little, if anything, with people living on both sides of Murree Road and Lal Kurti, and other areas of old city. The same is true for Islamabad, where the E sector, for instance, is often referred to as the `elite` sector, which houses diplomats, powerful politicians and other notables who often maintain a second home in this sector.

However, unlike Islamabad, where social segmentation is more ominous, Rawalpindi, owing to it its deep-rooted culture and rich history, is a much more traditional and egalitarian society.

The concepts of neighbourhoods, familial ties and collective living remain the hallmark of Pindi cultural scene.

Islamabad`s history prior to its existence is limited to Margalla pass being the gateway betweenPunjab and Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa provinces. The area was pretty much desolate and infested with poisonous snakes; thus the name Margalla, `Mar` is Persian for snake, and `galla` means herd.

Islamabad primarily is a late 20th Century purpOse-built capital. The city is divided into eight zones, including administrative, diplomatic enclave, residential areas, educational sectors, industrial sectors, commercial areas, and rural and green areas. At the time when Pakistan moved its capital from Karachi to Islamabad, the bureaucracy and state machinery predominantly consisted of Urdu-speaking ICS officers and staff and, to a lesser extent, Bengalis. Islamabad was well on its way to be an all-inclusive, cultured and value-based city. However, the improvements in educational sector, exponential economic growth in the 1960s, created opportunities for people from other provinces to join civil services, and Islamabad started to bulge and it continues to expand for reasons only known to people entrusted to run our affairs on our behalf ... or so we believe.

With the influx of people from various ethnic and social backgrounds, the evolution of city`s culture was stunted. The city remains polarised, insular and clique-based, with each group having its own value and belief system. It was only recently that political events in the city motivated people to converge for a common cause.

I have been frequenting both Islamabad and Rawalpindi since the mid 1970s. Surely, Lahore with its rich and buoyant culture was still provincial when com-pared to Islamabad. Indeed Islamabad had its razzle-dazzle even back then, but when it came to food, it failed to whet a Lahori appetite.

If memory serves me right, before Pappasallis made its entry, there was one fast food joint, Mr.

Chips, worth its salt. Surely there were few upscale restaurants around but those were a bit heavy for our light wallets. There is no doubt that the foodie scene has improved a lot in Islamabad recently with lots of new startups, but other than Monal there is hardly anything to write home about.

Only an Islooite with underdeveloped taste buds would `savour` a plate of bland pulao of sorts, a chicken piece, with two shami kebabs and raita and boast about it on social media! The city has a long way to go before they can catch up with Lahore or Karachi.

Rawalpindi was maybe a notch or two above Islamabad in this context, but had little to offer in terms of variety. The only eateries that I remember served good food during our two-year stay at Pindi was Shezan, Jehangir Balti Ghost, Snack Shack, an upscale fast food joint set up by an NCA student, and Gelato Jaleebi, with an honourable mention of a Halwa Puri place adjacent to the old GTS stand, barfi from Babu Mohalla and cone ice cream vendor on the Bank Road. Like I said, almost everyone stayed within their comfort zone, so our area of operations was restricted to Cantonment. It was only recently that I found that there are a number of erstwhile eateries in the old city thanks to the maverick politician from that area.

Islamabadphobia, it seems, isembedded in the Rawalpindi residents` psyche. Back when I was one of the Pindi boys` or `boyses`, a pejorative term recently coined for Rawalpindi youth in the backdrop of opening of Centarus Mall, the well-to-do Pindi youth will go out of the way to befriend Isloo youth. The primary objective was to somehow enter the mythical world of debauchery that existed within the confines of gated villas of Islamabad.

Those not so lucky would put on their best clothes and loiter around Super and Jinnah Super Markets, hoping to catch an eye of some glamorous Islamabad lass.

The ordinary folks would flock to places like Shakarparian and Rawal Lake. So the strong reaction by Islamabad elite is understandable since this was the first time they actually came into contact with ordinary citizens of Pindi(read Pakistan).

The street scene in Pindi was restricted to Bank Road, where youngsters would loiter around in groups of two and three around the cone vendor shop or Student Book Shop, hoping to be the knight in shining armour for a princess disembarking from a car.

Again, the youth belonged to the privileged segment of Rawalpindi, barring under-training recruits who would throng the place during their quarterly and bi-annual term breaks, hoping against hope that they would impress a girl or two. Actually, few of them did manage to do that. But the not-so-brave souls like us were content with procuring the latest novel by Harold Robins, and catching a movie at Odeon cinema before departing for our destinations. The old city dwellers were content with frolickingaround Satellite Town market and avoided Bank Road altogether.

Having said that, I must acknowledge that Pindiites do know how to enjoy life. They have their picnics in Ayub Park and at Khanpur dam; family get-together at Murree and adjoining areas. Isloo youth on the other hand has a rather limited horizon.

The idea of fun for Isloo youth is more up-scale than the rest of the country. Activities such as picnics, sight-seeing and the likes are not on their menu. They have always enjoyed the comforts of closed groups engaged in activities like hiking, camping, bonfires, concerts, etc. Of late they have turned to speed car racing, para-gliding, dirt-biking, and of course the mythical parties more visible now than they were about 30 years ago.

They hold Lahore and other cities in low-esteem and would only travel when unavoidable. A second-generation Islamabad resident worked with me when I was in Islamabad. During the course of some discussion, he mentioned that he went to Lahore to attend a wedding of his cousin and while driving on the Mall Road, he had a panic attack due to the `crazy` traffic of Lahore so he parked his car on the side and called his relatives for a rescue, and vowed never to go to Lahore again.That is some reality cutoff.

Coming back to the notion of twin cites, it is highly unlikely that Rawalpindi and Islamabad would ever grow into each other.

The way things have shaped during the last three decades or so, Rawalpindi is destined to remain a step-brother to Islamabad! E