To my countrymen, with love

To my countrymen,

To the flood victims, plane crash victims and sufferers of recent city violence. I don’t know what it feels like to stand in shoulder length water and not feel your legs. I don’t know what it is like to be marooned out of your houses and leave everything behind. I don’t know what its like to be terrorized in your own home. I don’t know what its like to lose a son. I will not pity you - you are in my prayers.

As 14^th August 2010 draws near people have mixed feelings. Some are fine sitting at home watching news on television, while some are being the news that is broadcasted. Kids while not screaming in the rain are hanging out ‘jhandiyaans’ and flags in the whole mohalla. Today when it rained my mother unfortunately handed me the viper and asked me to clean out the car porch. When I was unhappily applying myself to her request I saw many ‘jhandiyaan’ being strewn across the road and some were flowing in the puddles of water. Years of training led me to instinctively move to pick them up. I had to walk into ankle deep water, get myself soaked in the rain to sieve all of them out. Meanwhile a group of young ‘mohallay ke bachay’ were looking at me in awe. A short maybe 8years old one with a huge grin asked me “Appi app yeh kyun utha rahi hain?’. I looked at him and said ‘Kyun key ye jhandiyaan hain’. The kids giggled as if sharing an inside joke. Then another said ‘Tou kiya howa? Ab yeh gir gayeen to gir gayeen’. I asked ‘School mein flag hai?’ They all nodded. Then I said ‘Woh pole pe laga hai ya zameen pe?’

Then as if a revelation dawned across their faces they helped me picked up all the jhandiyaan. They kind of went an extra level when they promised me they’d dry it all and put all of them back up. So to the kids of my country. Learn to respect your flag and national anthem that’s your first step towards patriotism.

To the farmers, labors, blacksmiths of my country. I don’t know what its like to stand in the field all day, or bake bricks in the scorching sun. I don’t know what its like to see your fields eroded by the flood and hope of harvest die - I thank you. I thank you for the food I can see on my table and for the house I can live in.

To the brave men of my country who protect its borders everyday, who keep the enemy at bay so I can sleep blissfully at night. I don’t know what its like to live away from your families and friends. I don’t know what its like to leave your home and enlist yourself to serve. Keeping my seas, and lands and air free from threat. I don’t know what its like to feel the honor of sacrificing your life - I salute you.

To the youth of my country who are the tomorrow. Take a good look at yourself and the people around you. Your class fellows, mates, gym friends and just the young generation. Try to look beyond what you see. Don’t judge people on face value. If you learn to stop stereotyping people maybe Pakistan has hope. Because I know we learn to place people in different tags from school to college transition period. Look beyond the tags of Mahajir, Pathan, Balochi, Sindhi, Punjabi, Sunni, Shia-ites. Not everybody is the same. Stop tagging people and learn to tolerate. Stop making generalizing comments. Differences are good. Diversity is what makes the Pakistani culture so rich. So treasure it. If you and I don’t respect Pakistan today with all it aspects there will be nothing left. Learn to defend your country for what its worth. Stop complaining, grumbling and criticizing. It’s high time that you ask yourself what you did for Pakistan anyway else then blatantly demanding your right only. If you are the future so you better get working for the better tomorrow today. Your passion and spirit is what is needed to rebuilt. You are the leaders of tomorrow – I admire you.

To all my countrymen who call themselves Pakistanis, who live in this rich cultural scenic landscape or just posses a green passport. Don’t give up hope. This is our country and we are answerable for its condition. They can take away everything from me and threaten my peace they still can’t take away my spirit from me for I have not been born in this land but I hope to die in it. I am one of you. I am a Pakistani. Who is after all Pakistan? You and I is what makes Pakistan. Hence whatever we do is reflected in our country’s name. So hold your head up high amidst these miseries and unite. You have my prayers, my sympathy, my hope and my spirits – I am you.

Love,

Anam Ashraf Ali