Written by: S.S D/o Afzal Shakir, Karachi
Today the rain is pelting down.
“Asfand...” From the core of her heart she calls this name silently.
Whenever the rain falls she becomes sad.
She comes out of her room and steps towards her small beautiful garden.
She stops between the flower-beds and looks towards the gate.
Tears silently come out of her eyes and roll down her cheeks.
‘Mama, why are you crying?’ she hears a whisper. ‘I am happy here. Papa is with me. You should be proud of me mama, please don’t cry, it hurts me. I am happy here mama, I am happy.’
She rubs her tears away softly, puts her hand on her heart and smiles.
“I am proud of you beta. I miss you and your papa so much. I can never forget the day when you came in a white dress on the shoulders of the Pak army. The flag on your coffin looked so beautiful. When you came in from this gate (she points towards the gate) the rain had started falling so softly. And then it had stopped. How can I forget the day when you left me forever just like your father?
‘Don’t I live in your heart, mama? I didn’t leave you. I am still in your heart. Mama please go into your room. You will fall ill if you stay out here any longer,’ her heart whispered again.
She turned to go into her room to satisfy her shaheed son. He was happy so why should she mourn him? She had had a heart to heart talk with him and felt much better now.
Don’t know why today mama is so sad today. I think tomorrow papa has to go.
Dear Diary, I love my papa so much. He buys such beautiful toys for me. Whenever he comes home we play together. I wish papa would always stay with me like Faisal’s abbu. Faisal is so lucky that his papa plays with him every Sunday. Dear Diary, mama says that your papa is great that he fights for our safety and for our country. Dear diary I am very sad today because my papa will leave us tomorrow and I don’t know when he will come again. I wish my papa and his friends live a long time.
“Asad yar, get ready quickly. I have been waiting here for the last 15 minutes. Come out otherwise I ….”
“Otherwise?” Asad suddenly came out of the house and raised his brows.
“Otherwise I will not take my hand off the horn until you come out,” Sameer replied with a laugh and opened the front door for him.
“What’s the program for today?” Asad asked.
“Have you seen the preview of the latest Indian movie?” Sameer asked.
“No, I haven’t,” Asad said.
“We are going to the cinema to watch it. I’ve bought two tickets. One for you, one for me,” Sameer said, generously. “That’s what best friends are for,” Asad became emotional. They came to a signal on the road and as usual Sameer broke it and was gone.
Returning from school as Bisma entered the street, she saw a crowd in front of her house.
The first thought which came in her mind was pleasant.
Whenever her brother came, all the villagers arrived to meet him, but this crowd seemed to be so big. She entered her home with her heart filled with a sudden dread. She ran towards her father.
“Abba, Abba, why are all these people here? Where is bhaiyya? Why have they come?” she said, pointing to the army officers. She had understood the situation yet she was asking her father.
She wanted her father to dispel her fears. She didn’t want to believe her eyes.
Abba, who was trying to control himself, broke down. His daughter’s questions made his tears, which were hidden till now, flow.
“Beta he has left us. He sacrificed his life beta for the sake of his country. I am so proud, I am the father of a shaheed.”
Then he looked at the coffin and said, “I am proud of you beta. I am so happy.” He wiped away his tears and smiled.
Bisma wished that she had the same patience as her father.
How she had always waited for her brother. This time he had come but only to leave her forever.
She was not complaining to Allah because it had been her brother’s wish.
“Bisma, when I am martyred... don’t cry... be proud of yourself that you are the sister of a shaheed… that your brother gave his life for the sake of his beloved country and for the people of his country.”
His words rang in Bisma ears.
“Shadeed ki jo maut hae
Wo qoum ki hayat hae...”
On Defence Day the young school girls were expressing their love for Pakistan.
Speeches, national songs, tableaus are being performed.
The whole school is decorated with colorful buntings.
“We should love Pakistan from our heart because it is the result of many sacrifices and the blood of many people… it is a result of a very hard struggle,” and so on.
This type of emotional and enthusiastic speeches are also part of the program.
The program ends and the buntings and flags are thrown in the bins. Some are lying on the floor being crushed under the feet of the so-called lovers of Pakistan
The grief of mother can only be understood by a mother. No doubt it was an honour for her that her son fought bravely and then lost his life for the sake of his motherland, yet she missed him terribly. There are many mothers out there who are still waiting for their sons or for the news of their son’s martyrdom. The young boy, writing in his diary expresses his innocent wish to have his father play with him. He doesn’t know what the future will bring.
A sister loses her brother for the safety of Pakistan and its people. You and I, we love Pakistan. We claim that we do this for Pakistan, we do that for Pakistan but we know what we have really done.
Many brave soldiers have sacrificed their lives and many are fighting with determination. Why?
The answer is simple… they are fighting for us, for our safety, for Pakistan, for you and for me. In return what do we give them?
Slogans of ‘Pakistan Zindabad’?
Or wearing green and white dresses proves our love for our motherland, or singing national songs?
This is our love?
A mother suffers her son’s separation for us… for our safety.
A wife and a child also suffer loneliness for us, for the people of Pakistan.
I agree that we love Pakistan as well as the Pak army. The question is what can we do for both?
If we really love Pakistan we should boycott all things of India, all products of India, all websites of India, Indian movies, Indian songs, Indian cartoons, each and every thing of India, and not just India but we should boycott the products of all those countries which are the enemies of Pakistan.
Try to buy Pakistani products as much as you can. You know very well that watching movies and listening to songs is not good whether they are Pakistani or Indian. As you know the situation on the border is very tense. If you really love Pakistan, you must pray for it, offer salah-tul-hajaat and pray for its safety, pray for it as much as you can.
If you really love Pakistan, follow its rules and regulations. Don’t break signals. Don’t park your cars where there is a sign of No Parking. Don’t throw garbage on the roads. Don’t say nobody does this, we have to do it because we love Pakistan, because we are sincere to our homeland.
If we really love Pakistan we have to respect our flag. And not just our flag but all the things which belong to our land. As a Pakistani it is our duty to help our soldier brothers with our prayers. We should do whatever we can for the families of the shuhada. Our brothers need our prayers, need our love.
May our Pakistan always remain blessed and evergreen. May Allah give success to our country and keep it safe from its enemies… always