The surprise on the Line of Control (LoC) is that there is no line. Nor is there any barbed-wire fencing to demarcate the boundary between India and Pakistan. Just fortified bunkers on mountain slopes on either side of the Jhelum river. At the last checkpoint at Chakothi, a lone Pakistani guard stands forlornly next to a freshly painted milestone that indicates Srinagar is 121 km away and Uri just 10 km.

With the ceasefire being observed for over a year now, the Pakistani post here is in a state of relaxed de-alert. It is a marked change from the unrelenting daily exchange of artillery and infantry fire by the two armies. Instead of staring at their dushman's (enemy) eyeballs, Pakistani soldiers now sit back in their tin-roof quarters nearby, watching pirated versions of Bollywood's latest offerings. Their current favourite? Veer-Zaara, the story of forbidden love between an Indian boy and a Pakistani girl. Major Farooq Nassir, the army spokesman who has seen the movie, asks with a smile, ''Why is it always a Pakistani girl who falls for an Indian guy and not the other way round?''

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GUARDED STANCE: Pakistani policemen at the strategic Karakoram highway near Gilgit BETWEEN THE LINES: Muzaffarabad has its own dailies

The outpost at Chakothi is literally on the last mile that divides the two countries. If all goes well in the coming months, it could become the road to a historic new chapter of peace efforts between the two countries. On December 7, the two sides began a fresh round of official-level talks in Delhi on the modalities of running a bus service between Srinagar and Muzaffarabad, the capital of Pakistan-Occupied Kashmir (PoK) or Azad Jammu and Kashmir (AJK), as it is known across the border. Just 180 km of road separates the capitals of the two Kashmirs, but in 57 years, neither country has allowed Kashmiris to cross the LoC freely.

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SNARLED TIES: The main bazaar in Muzaffarabad

Even now it is not going to be an easy task. The Indian guards positioned a kilometre away from the Chakothi post give a friendly wave. One of them moves his hands up and down to indicate a steering wheel and signals that I should drive across. It's a joke. A narrow, rickety bridge still stands over the river but it looks as if it will collapse with the slightest load. It would take an estimated three months to construct a motorable bridge. Before that, there would have to be a de-mining exercise on either side of the border as the LoC is heavily booby-trapped. There would also have to be an agreement on the kind of travel documents needed to cross over.

The immense symbolism of the bus link between the two Kashmirs has, however, not been lost on India and Pakistan. In Muzaffarabad, Sardar Sikandar Hayat Khan, 72, the ageing prime minister of the AJK Government, is anxious to have contact established between the two Kashmirs. Over a breakfast of hot parathas and Kabuli chana at his modest official residence, Hayat Khan talks nostalgically of his ancestral home at Poonch near Jammu. He hasn't seen the place since he was a teenager and longs to visit it. ''There are so many divided families like mine and this bus would change the way the two Kashmirs look at each other,'' he says (see interview).

SIKANDAR HAYAT KHAN | POK PRIME MINISTER

"We need a face-saving solution" Sardar Sikandar Hayat Khan, 72, the prime minister of the Azad Government of the state of Jammu and Kashmir gave Managing Editor Raj Chengappa an exclusive interview at his residence in Muzaffarabad. Excerpts: Q. Are you for a bus service between Muzaffarabad and Srinagar? A. I welcome the proposal. There are so many migrants and divided families that I proposed to President General Pervez Musharraf that this bus service should be made available to all Kashmiris. I am very optimistic they will find a way of agreeing on a travel document and not insist on passports. In the interim, maybe some area could be designated as a no-man's land where people from the two sides could meet, share a meal and return by evening. Q. Will the recent peace initiative make any progress? A. After three wars, India and Pakistan realise they cannot change the status quo militarily. We should be realistic. All of us have concluded there should be a solution. General Musharraf is a blunt person and he put forth a peace initiative. There is no use if it remains one-sided. There is talk of confidence-building measures but there are doubts about India's sincerity. Q. Has the new Indian Government made any difference? A. Atal Bihari Vajpayee had an edge which Manmohan Singh doesn't because he runs a minority government. Even if Manmohan Singh is sincere, doubts remain. When there is political leadership in India like Vajpayee's and military leadership in Pakistan, then things move in the right manner. Q. The continuing militant activity in the Valley is of concern to India. A. We have no control over them. When they feel both the countries are moving towards peace, militancy will come down. The Indian Army general said that many militants are ready to move to India but this is not true. There is definitely a reduction in militancy. Q. The Hurriyat wants to be the only one to be involved in talks. A. Their stance is wrong. Representatives from all areas should be given an opportunity to meet. Both the governments should allow Kashmiris to meet and come up with solutions. Time-frames should be worked out, otherwise it will only seem fashionable to say, 'Involve the Kashmiris.' Q. Do you think a solution is possible? A. What we need is a face-saving solution for India, for Pakistan and especially for Kashmiris, so that they can live in peace. Q. Don't you think plebiscite is now an outdated demand? A. Plebiscite is not a destination. It is a means to an end. If there is a substitute, then there is no need for it. Q. Is there room for a third option-independence for Kashmir? A. In the beginning it was made clear to the maharajas that there were going to be only two countries, not 500. Also, Kashmir is a landlocked country. We have limited resources, no industry and four big countries on our borders. So independence is not economically feasible.

On the road from Muzaffarabad to the LoC, everyone is excited about the bus to the Valley. Abdul Karim, a 65-year-old driver at the one-bazaar town of Majoi, lifts his kurta to show a shrapnel wound on his stomach which, he says, is the result of Indian artillery fire. ''We have been fighting for 57 years and nothing good has come of it. Our towns used to be deserted. Now there is hope. The peace process must not fail.'' There is visible relief among those living near the LoC. Zubeida Ali Sham, who lost her husband to bullet fire eight years ago, now prays every day for peace to succeed. She has five children who go to a nearby school and she fears for their lives. ''We are poor and we just want to get on with our lives,'' she says.

"I'm keen on seeing my ancestral home in Jammu." RASHID ALI, TEA VENDOR. Having migrated from AJK to Chilaas, Ali believes if independence is not possible, Kashmir should be made an autonomous zone.

Back in Muzaffarabad, at the Sangam Hotel, which even offers a holiday package for honeymooners, a Kashmiri band plays an old ballad that reflects the growing hope: ''We will return to you our homeland. Come, my love, let me show you my Kashmir.'' Situated on the confluence of the Jhelum and the Neelam rivers, Muzaffarabad is the poor cousin of Srinagar. It is a town bursting at its seams as close to three-quarters of a million Kashmiris inhabit its hills. The primary tourist attraction is its own Red Fort that was built in the 17th century. At the main bazaar, as in Srinagar, walnut carvings and Kashmiri shawls fill up the shops. Traffic snarls are common as the ubiquitous antique Bedford trucks, with their frontage decked like a Punjabi dulhan (bride), block the narrow streets.

All the vehicles registered in PoK have AJK number plates. The local administration, including the police forces, are supposedly under the control of Hayat Khan and his Government. The Government even has its own tv and radio channels with a predominance of news of ''freedom fighters'' being killed in the ''Indian-Held Kashmir''. Schools have their own curriculum, but high schools switch over to the education system prevalent in Pakistan's Punjab province. With Pakistan's help, a majority of the houses, even those in the remote hills, have been electrified. The connectivity between the towns is good. Tourism remains AJK's main source of revenue, with Pakistanis and foreigners flocking to its many hill resorts.

Yet, AJK's azadi is a sham. While Hayat Khan purportedly heads the Government, his real bosses are in Islamabad. He is merely a member of the AJK Council chaired by Pakistani Prime Minister Shaukat Aziz, which takes key decisions involving the PoK. The 13-member council is dominated by Pakistani Government representatives and its stranglehold over AJK is complete. All top bureaucratic posts, including that of the chief secretary and the inspector-general of police, are usually held by officers deputed from Pakistan. Over 90 per cent of the AJK Government's budget of Pakistani Rs 1,500 crore is paid by Islamabad.

"I want all my children to go to school without fear." ZUBEIDA ALI SHAM, HOUSEWIFE. Living at Chakothi, she lost her husband to gunfire and has five children to look after.

Though regular elections have been held for the 40 seats in the AJK Legislature Assembly, its prime minister and president have always served ''at the behest of the powers that be'' in Islamabad. In the past, uncomfortable governments have been sacked and their leaders unceremoniously jailed. Many political parties like the JKLF may flirt with independence but Islamabad is clear-there is no option for Kashmiris except accession to Pakistan.

To its credit, Muzaffarabad isn't as heavily fortified as Srinagar across the border. There are no army or police checkposts along the 140 km of winding road that connects Islamabad with AJK. The rebel capital itself is devoid of police pickets behind sand bunkers on every street, a hallmark of the Valley. It is probably a sign of the confidence with which the Pakistani Government controls reactionary forces in the region. There are enough Pakistani Government minders, including an entire army division headed by a general-officer-commanding, stationed at Murree nearby, apart from the ISI agents, to ensure Islamabad's full control.

For years, Muzaffarabad and its surroundings have been the hotbed of the so-called jehadi movement backed covertly by the Pakistani Government. But after Pakistani President General Pervez Musharraf's promise on January 6 this year-to forbid any territory under Pakistani control to be used for terrorist activities-all visible signs have been removed. Key militant groups have been asked to shut down their offices in Muzaffarabad. The Indian Government, however, still accuses Pakistan of keeping the infrastructure of terror intact, implying that jehadi camps have been shifted to the mountains around Muzaffarabad. Says Major Farooq: ''Let the Indian Army pass on information about these camps and we will take action.''

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LOST INNOCENCE: Schoolchildren at Majoi near the LoC

This is propaganda. The hardliners, and there are plenty of them, are lying low for now. Internationally, terrorism remains a bad word and the Kashmiri militants are waiting for the current peace efforts to run aground. In his Muzaffarabad office, Sheikh Akeel-ur-Rehman, the naib amir of the Jamaat-e-Islami of AJK, which has openly backed militants, issues a quiet warning. ''Our right to self-determination has to be acknowledged after so many sacrifices. We will continue to struggle even if it takes 50 years to materialise.'' He mocks the Indian Army, saying it is a sign of the country's weakness that despite constructing fences across the LoC and deploying troops, the jehadis get through.

One of the many shortcomings of India's Kashmir policy is that unlike Pakistan it has not been able to build a strong indigenous movement that advocates its cause within the PoK. There are no mirror groups like the All-Party Hurriyat Conference that India can use to embarrass Pakistan in the international fora. Delhi has not visibly backed dissidents to create unrest in PoK to counter Islamabad's policy of bleeding India through ''a thousand cuts'' in Jammu and Kashmir.

"Why don't the two sides give us a chance to speak?" RAFIQ, COAT-SELLER, He picks up his goods from the Chinese border and sells them at throwaway prices in Gilgit. Rafiq believes Kashmiris need to get together.

The growing alienation with India is evident in the Northern Areas (NA) of PoK, where till last fortnight no Indian journalist was given permission to visit. Few in India realise that the AJK Government in Muzaffarabad has no control over the NA, which consists of 75 per cent of the 78,000 sq km that the Pakistan Government occupied illegally soon after Independence. It is a vast swath of land dominated by high mountains that extend up to Badakshan on the Afghanistan border and the Xinjiang province in China. It lies on the confluence of three of the world's greatest mountain ranges-the Himalayas, the Karakorams and the Hindu Kush.

As the PIA Fokker Friendship flight to Gilgit lifts off from Islamabad, it veers sharply towards right and heads straight over the mountains of NA. The pilot asks you to peep out of the window and see Nanga Parbat that soars to 8,125 m. As the plane darts through the passes, the breathtaking vastness of this part of PoK unfolds. Split into five districts (a sixth is to be formed soon), the NA is home to 2.8 million of the total 5.3 million residents in PoK. It is a mindboggling kaleidoscope of ethnic groups, including the Baltis, Shins, Pathans, Ladakhis, Turks and Kashmiris, each speaking its own language.

"Earlier we used to hide. Now there is hope." MOHAMMAD KAFI, TAILOR, He has a shop at Chakothi and wants the bus link so he can meet his relatives.

On the Karakoram highway, at Chilaas, three hours by bus from Gilgit, Imran Khan rests beside his 1972 Bedford truck bedecked with colourful motifs. The 500 km all-weather highway, which Pakistan constructed with China's help, is the artery through which it controls the NA's affairs. Khan is full of the usual complaints of truckers-he has to bribe the police several times on the way. He is also tired of Islamabad's iron control over the region. ''We want autonomy from both Pakistan and India. We want to be in control of our lives,'' he says.

Delhi has continuously failed to exploit such sentiments. For instance, it did not take advantage of the intense disaffection that spread through the NA districts after the Kargil War in 1999. It was from the Northern Light Infantry division stationed near Gilgit, the capital of NA, that Pakistan drew most of its troops to occupy the Kargil heights. No official estimate of the Pakistani Army's casualties has been given, but the number of dead soldiers is put at 2,000. This had created a wave of resentment in the NA, especially among the shaheed (martyr) families who had lost their breadwinners in the battle.

"What we need is more jobs and less corruption." IMRAN KHAN, TRUCK DRIVER, He plies on the strategic Karakoram highway, the main artery that gives Islamabad control over the Northern Areas.

Since 1999, Musharraf's Government has pumped in billions of rupees for the area's development to pacify the local population. Gilgit, which nestles in a vast, dry valley in the Karakoram ranges, is a hive of construction activity, with new schools and roads being built. Jamil Ahmed, the amiable home secretary of the NA, points out that the Pakistani Government is spending Rs 3 billion this year-double the amount compared with last year-in the region to complete 20 hydel projects, build an additional 212 km of roads and 579 new schools.

Unlike in AJK, Pakistan has not even bothered to maintain a sham of autonomy in NA. With the constitutional status of NA clothed in ambiguity, it is now ruled directly from Islamabad. The NA Legislative Council, consisting of 24 elected members, has a limited mandate and its powers are no better than a municipal corporation. The bearded Malik Mohammed Maskeen, the council's speaker, frankly admits, ''Our loyalty has been purchased by Pakistan through its numerous development projects for the region. Earlier, we had trouble getting even salt. Now, everything is available.''

"We are willing to struggle for another 50 years if needed." SHEIKH AKEEL-UR-REHMAN, NAIB AMIR, AJK JAMAAT-E-ISLAMI. He warns that if the peace talks fail militancy may return.

Despite Pakistan's efforts to smother dissent, it bubbles forth continuously. Earlier, much of it had to do with the Pakistani policy of settling people from the neighbouring provinces of the North Western Frontier Province and Punjab to reduce the proportion of Shias in the region-from 95 per cent at Independence it has dropped to 55 per cent now. More recently, the Shia community leaders have been protesting against the introduction of textbooks in the school curriculum by the Pakistani Ministry of Education that promote only Sunni thoughts and values. In June this year, troops had to be called to quell hundreds of Shias agitating against the new school syllabus.

Movements for independence too have sprouted. Among them is the Balawaristan National Movement (BNM) that, since 1999, has been pushing for an independent Republic of Balawaristan, including areas of Gilgit, Baltistan, Chitral and Ladakh. Standing on the banks of the Indus river, Shujaat Ali, general secretary, BNM, talks of Islamabad's intolerance. ''We have so far not been allowed to win a council seat,'' he says. Unlike in AJK, they don't believe in violence. The only guns visible in Gilgit are muskets that can be bought at an antique shop.

As in AJK, in the NA too, there is a yearning for peace. Muhammad Farooq, a gemstone dealer, is happy to finally meet an Indian and says, "We are tired of jung and jehad. It is time Kashmiris had a say about their future." The ''other Kashmir'' is speaking. Finally.

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