WAGAH BORDER, India and Pakistan—At sunset every day here, India's hostile relationship with Pakistan is acted out in a bizarre military tradition known as the "Beating Retreat Ceremony."  Paramilitary border guards in ceremonial turbans take part in an exaggerated and athletic military drill. Pakistani and Indian guards march with feet kicked above head height then slammed to the ground before flags are lowered and the border gates are closed. For years, they have taunted each other with raised fists and puffed up chests. Flag-waving spectators on each side cheer them on with patriotic anthems.  Every day at sunset, Indian and Pakistani guards on the Wagah border face off in a militaristic flag-lowering exercise called the Beating Retreat Ceremony. WSJ's Tom Wright reports on India's effort to tone down the bizarre display.  For India, a civilian democracy whose leader, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, is pushing for better relations with Pakistan, the spectacle has become an overly belligerent embarrassment. So in March, India suggested to Pakistan a number of changes, such as getting rid of the raised fists and bringing in more smiles. In July, it introduced women guards in a bid to reduce testosterone levels.  "Our side has always held the view that this is a civilized ceremony," says Himmat Singh, Inspector General of India's Border Security Force for the Punjab Frontier, which staffs the ceremony. "We should not play to the gallery."  Pakistan is marching to a different tune. One evening recently, Pakistan Rangers dressed in black raised their fists in repeated acts of bravado and stared aggressively across the "Zero Line" at their Indian counterparts, who stood motionless in their khaki uniforms.  The commander of Pakistan's side of the border, Col. Sher Jung, claims the hundreds of Pakistanis who sit in bleachers daily to see the show clamor for these theatrics. "How does it create tension? We're doing these gestures to motivate our own audience," says Col. Jung. "Our aim is to increase the morale of our own people by a good standard of drill, by more manly qualities."  An Indian guard made a command as thousands of Indian spectators watched during the nightly flag-lowering ceremony at the Wagah Border.  India, he suggests, is keen to tone down the ceremony because its guards have suffered many torn ligaments and sprained ankles from all the stomping.  "Perhaps they are weak and not having a balanced diet," Col. Jung says.  Indian border guards admit to injuries—about one a month—but say Pakistan suffers equally. They claim Pakistan needs to indulge in aggressive gestures to mask the fact that fewer supporters visit its side of the border.  India says between 7,000 and 10,000 people visit its side nightly. One recent evening, hundreds of women in brightly colored saris danced to Hindi pop songs, including "Jai Ho," ("Be Victorious") from the Oscar-winning film "Slumdog Millionaire." The Pakistani bleachers were empty until just before the flag lowering, then filled up with far fewer supporters than in India.  The Wagah Border, on the British-era Grand Trunk Road between Amritsar in India and Lahore in Pakistan, has been the main land crossing between the two countries since they were carved out of British India in 1947.  The border remains tense. In January, India said four rockets fired by suspected Pakistani militants exploded near the Wagah outpost.  India retaliated with machine-gun fire and mortar shells. Pakistan denied the firing came from its side of the border. No one was injured.  Most vehicle traffic isn't allowed, so hundreds of porters ferry goods back and forth between Indian and Pakistani trucks. A daily bus service crosses the border. But mainly people come to see the ceremony.  The Wagah ceremony dates to independence, when armed forces from both sides carried out simple flag-lowering ceremonies at Wagah, a village that had been split in two by the partition of British India. In the early 1970s, both sides began to coordinate a drill in the spirit of friendship after the 1971 Indian-Pakistan war, according to Indian and Pakistan officials.  The ceremony took on its current form as soldiers began to try to outdo one another with higher kicks, stomps and other aggressive gestures.  In 2004, amid a peace process between the nations, efforts were made to reduce some of the aggression. But the 2008 terrorist attacks launched from Pakistan on Mumbai stymied that. The two countries began talking again about peace in February.  In March, both nations agreed to revisions in the ceremony. Two guards from each side who meet at the start now shake hands for longer and smile instead of scowl.  Pakistan also agreed to stop a gesture in which soldiers point at themselves with their thumbs—which is viewed as inflammatory. But it refused to stop raising fists or to completely do away with nasty stares.  Not everyone on the Indian side supports efforts to lighten up. Parmjit Singh, a 47-year-old Sikh from Mumbai, spent a recent ceremony leading the crowd in a frenzied chant of "Hindustan Zindabad" ("Long Live India.") An Indian guard urged him to tone down his shouting.  "They raise the voice. So I also raise the voice," said Mr. Singh, who was on his 17th trip to the ceremony. "The ceremony should remain as it is to show the pride and spirit of India," chimed in his friend, Sarbjit Singh, a 56-year-old dealer in car parts."  One new female guard, Sukhman Mann, a 22-year-old from India's Punjab state, disagrees. "So many people come to see this boundary and enjoy the parade. So there is no need for aggressive pressure," said Ms. Mann, who performs in orange nail polish.  India uses its female guards to start the parade. Two guards march out ahead of the men but take no part in the "leg stretching" and "foot pressing"—local terms for the high kicks and stomping.  Col. Jung, the Pakistan border commander, says he has no plans to reciprocate. "For me, drill is a hard duty," he said. "So why should we employ our ladies on hard duty?"  Write to Tom Wright at tom.wright@wsj.com
Some participants in daily gate-closing ceremony are singing a new tune, but the national antagonism persists in dirty looks and hostile gestures