Last night, I was coming back from market; It was a Saturday night, and oddly, streets were empty, the small food shops were deserted, bakeries abandoned even the beggars were out of sight. We stopped at a tandoor to get some naans for dinner. Unusually, the lights were dimmed and the Tandoor seemed closed. As our taxi stopped, I noticed 3 shadowy figures move hesitantly. They wore prayer caps and had tasbeeh in their hands; they seemed alarmed with our presence.
When our driver returned with Naans, he told us that the shop owner is Phakhtoon; they are so terrified with latest incidents of Phakhtoon killings that they have camouflaged themselves in the gloomy darkness of the shop and prayed to find solace and to be secure!
A sharp twinge traveled deep into my heart. We keep on hearing such news, but witnessing the reality was awfully agonizing. News is not always false its not always aggrandized. Our own people are not sensing protection within their own domains. Our streets are no longer an extension of our homes. They have become corridors of crime.
We have always been one.. We have always been Pakistanis. Then what happened? Did we fell asleep and became ignorant of what has been happening in the background? Or we were well aware of noiseless movements, those invisible objects being re assembled.. We did hear those whispers but were not able to make out the meanings. We did notice those changes but that dint affect us, and how could it when we already had so many other things to worry about.
These thoughts invaded my mind. I could hear the classic national song “Sindh, Sarhad, Punjab Baluchistan…Aik hian hum aur aik hai Pakistan” and could see all those childhood memories of school assemblies, in which four students enthusiastically represented four provinces and lovingly hugged each other under Pakistani Flag... Just like brothers.
At least that’s what we saw and felt as children but will our children be chanting the same song? Will they still have same four friends to inspire them? Or will they see one shooting all three one after the other and then painting the green and white flag his own?
I am not trying to portray the worst picture here. But I think it’s about time that we should open our eyes and ears and confront the reality.
If we don’t want those four buddies to kill each other, we must notice those extras, unwanted characters on the stage; some are behind that curtain at the back… who are whispering in the ears of the friends, who are trying to edit the script. They are going to ruin the show! As soon as one of the friends is left behind, as soon as their strength weakens, these characters are going to stab him as well. They will shredder the flag and now the stage will be their own along with the silent, stunned audience; us!
Let’s wake up! Let’s pull that curtain down! Lets unmask those faces! Let’s rise up and swamp the stage, push those uninvited characters off the stage. Encircle those young brothers and let them be ONE!
When our driver returned with Naans, he told us that the shop owner is Phakhtoon; they are so terrified with latest incidents of Phakhtoon killings that they have camouflaged themselves in the gloomy darkness of the shop and prayed to find solace and to be secure!
A sharp twinge traveled deep into my heart. We keep on hearing such news, but witnessing the reality was awfully agonizing. News is not always false its not always aggrandized. Our own people are not sensing protection within their own domains. Our streets are no longer an extension of our homes. They have become corridors of crime.
We have always been one.. We have always been Pakistanis. Then what happened? Did we fell asleep and became ignorant of what has been happening in the background? Or we were well aware of noiseless movements, those invisible objects being re assembled.. We did hear those whispers but were not able to make out the meanings. We did notice those changes but that dint affect us, and how could it when we already had so many other things to worry about.
These thoughts invaded my mind. I could hear the classic national song “Sindh, Sarhad, Punjab Baluchistan…Aik hian hum aur aik hai Pakistan” and could see all those childhood memories of school assemblies, in which four students enthusiastically represented four provinces and lovingly hugged each other under Pakistani Flag... Just like brothers.
At least that’s what we saw and felt as children but will our children be chanting the same song? Will they still have same four friends to inspire them? Or will they see one shooting all three one after the other and then painting the green and white flag his own?
I am not trying to portray the worst picture here. But I think it’s about time that we should open our eyes and ears and confront the reality.
If we don’t want those four buddies to kill each other, we must notice those extras, unwanted characters on the stage; some are behind that curtain at the back… who are whispering in the ears of the friends, who are trying to edit the script. They are going to ruin the show! As soon as one of the friends is left behind, as soon as their strength weakens, these characters are going to stab him as well. They will shredder the flag and now the stage will be their own along with the silent, stunned audience; us!
Let’s wake up! Let’s pull that curtain down! Lets unmask those faces! Let’s rise up and swamp the stage, push those uninvited characters off the stage. Encircle those young brothers and let them be ONE!
~ Zahra
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