_____ A hint of nostalgia, a pint of desire _____

It's been months... even years perhaps when I last kept my feet off the ground and gave into the groove we call the patriotic fire. It's been months... since I have objected or approved of any discussion, let alone mingle into some sort of active discussion. It's been months...feel like ages ago, when my fingers hit the keypad in that nonchalant fashion, when words were plenty and widespread, when thoughts were disperse... I soared, I swam and ultimately I gave into those thoughts, those moments of spark. Sometimes I had to take a gasp and halt my progress, I was not in a hurry, nor I ever was in a hurry, I had to stop, just to feel human again. The driving force behind my zest was always a pint of inspiration, and I knew I could do and achieve amazing feats just 'cos of that inspiration, that ray of hope...

And somehow, this all seems so forgone.

I was once surrounded. Those stars would lit up any part of the galaxy, would put a smile on any one's face, would let your hollow self loose into an unknown freedom, a struggle to undo yourself and bring out the real you from within yourself.

I don't know, maybe I have deliberately shifted to another solar system, 'cos here everything seems dull and desolate. I think the skies here never had the chance to greet those flashing pans of brilliant vibrant forces. I think I am missing those stars...

And perhaps I myself am the culprit. When you tend to think about none other than what's on your mind, I guess that's the thing that happens to you, and it's called 'aloofness'.

And one such star. I haven't had the chance to know her that well, but whatever I do know about her, is enough to make her one of those figures who you don't tend to near or neglect, but praise and behold. Such stars are unique and our solar system is definitely at odds with them.

I was out of contact, and when it dawned upon me, it was a tragic news. She had recently lost a precious soul. Someone you can give your life for. A mother, a divine creature like no other... and all I could was write a few notes of condolences.

It was a shock. Somehow I got immune to everything I was linked to in the past, and so I was again steady on my track... the road of aloofness.

Until now.

You see, you never know when it hits you. And whenever it hits you, believe me you are never expecting it.

I don't term myself as a selfless patriot, nor am any close to any who could spur my emotions... molten that stiffed mold of clay over my heart and make my aware of who I really am. But as I said, you never know... human nature with all its mysteries.

Somehow, those old folk lords are again making my heart dance to their jovial voices, those magnificent tunes of freedom and struggle. In some very suspicious, but auspicious way... I am again soaring into the winds, higher and higher. Allan Faqueer, Faiz Mohammad Baloch, Pathanay Khan, Shaukat Ali...and many many more...

Why have I lost track of my national Heroes, those Iqbal's and Quaid's of our old and present generations...? Why is my heart so wayward, distanced from my soil? Can't I just smell the rains pouring down like showers in the monsoon? Can't i breath the fresh air and feel my lungs lively and energized when I think of my Northern region? Is it necessary to be practically inside the territory to actually feel what it's meant to feel, to see what you ought to see, too experience what you had to.

As I said, I think it just hits you... and there you are, among the airs and smells, among the showers and rains, among the slogans and chants. You would have never expected it, but all of a sudden, you refrain yourself from doing whatever you were, for a moment you forget to breath, and when you inhale, there's something different. All of a sudden, that shell of aloofness is shimmered and gradually that cover is torn, revealing that one self that was once living the life that it was...

Slowly the mood take you and your feet tap the floor like a sea serpent thirsty for salty water. Your hands are lifted and so as your heart... and you feel as if it's all coming back to you.

I still miss those stars, those text messages, those arguments and pranks. Perhaps this day of Independence would bring me back some of those moments, and not just the memories.

Does it ever happen to you my friend. I hope it had, and not then it will. You can run, but you cannot hide from what you are. So stop tossing yourself into the winds of unknown and embrace your true identity. The circumstances might not be smooth, but then for us, they have never been. So smile and smile at your foes.

I am proud, to be a Pakistani, and no one's going to take it away from me, nor from you.

Long live Pakistan.

Reviews

[An Ordinary Woman]

I am truly sorry about your friend's loss and your loss and sadness as well. Flaw, life really does have a way of showing us things the hard way sometimes and we learn from it. I am speaking this concerning myself, because I tend to learn so much the hard way. I just cannot quit either, just like you cannot. I hope my untimeliness in getting here hasn't taken away from the fact that I care very much about you. Even though we have never met and probably never will, your sadness matters to me. Is there anything I can do?

Missing you ....
Tamara xx

[me]

It's amazing what the shift of life will do to make you realize what you did have. Hindsight is always 20/20...always. Well written piece of work.

[Celtic Cat]

oooh, Atif!! this piece is wonderful. I'm sorry someone had to die to make you realize you are still living... it is a sad way to recall, but one that's often offered. I can't imagine what it's like to lose the smells of your homeland, as I have stayed in mine except to vacation, and even that was so very long ago. this piece pierces my heart in a million different ways... the grief, the joy, the longing, the glimmering hopes....

Happy Independence Day, my friend. Thanks for sharing these wonderful words with us.