Thursday, 21 June 2012

My Tiny Little Bubble.

Salam.

I live in a teeny tiny bubble.

My bubble.

My world has food, clothing and shelter (Better known as Roti, Kapra aur Makaan). There's no such thing as Electricity (bijli) or Natural Gas' loadshedding. No riots, no drones, no killing for fun and joy. No, nothing.

I am a Pakistani, and very proud of it. I dont say it, I show it.

I live in a world where my Green Passport brings honour and pride. A world, where my culture isn't marred by controversies. Its colours are accepted worldwide. A world where i don't have any enemies.  A world, where after a tiring day i can come home and put my stress-stricken head in Daadi's lap, and let her stroke my hair and tell me tales about her time. Times of those struggles in claiming a land they could call their own...

A world where 14th August isn't another date and counting, it's the time where ALL Pakistani's come and rejoice for the birth-date of their beloved country, their identity, their life.

A world where i can enjoy dhaabay ki daal, and a fresh, crispy chapaati.  Eat Rus-Malaai, or Gulab jaaman whenever i crave for them. See those colourful Pakistani Trucks make their way to their destinations teaching me a life lesson by one of their witty quotes.

My world is peaceful. I see Pakistanis around the streets with their loved ones having a lovely time. No one is identified by the tribe they belong to, the city or region they are from, the colour of their skin, their language or even religion. I see smiles and cheerful faces blooming from every corner of my picture.

In my world, corrupt individuals are paying the price, not enjoying Harrods or helicopter privileges. The Army, like before, is out there, on the borders and around you, to protect you from evil and enemies. Not like some current instances, enjoying dollars or blood of their own countrymen.

My world also showcases justice. No one is scared of the police as a threat, but they are around as security, no one can scream, 'You know who i'm related to?', because in my world, every person is an individual, and very much accountable.

Very random yet kiddy scenes, I know. My life IS very random. It goes on.

My everyday playlist contains buzzing national songs by Amjad hussain, Noor jahan, Benjamin Sisters and none other than Mehdi Hassan. Songs like; Hum zinda qaum hai, Sohni dharti, Jeeway jeeway, Jug jug jiyay mera pyara watan, Maira Pakistan hai, May bhi Pakistan hoo and many many more.

Everyday, listening to them, i feel this feeling, a national feeling, something i felt as a kid, when 'Pakistan Zindabad' sent chills down my body. As a kid, the louder you said, the more Pakistani you were. I never had the guts to scream out loud. I never could do it. Seemed a bit awkward.

I should've. Was that my only outlet?

Today, i feel like screaming my head off, begging to be heard. What is happening around me? Have I woken up from my dream. My fantasy, my bubble is endangered by reality. I feel so threatened! 


But alas, even hiding in my Mum's arms like a little kid isn't consoling me any more. 


I want Time to stop. Make a few changes here and there, maybe even rewind a little bit, and adjust a few other things, try to make it perfect, anything. Just to make things work somehow.


The truth is, its not fun growing up in a fantasy. Its very worrying. Even more sickening to see people around you act all normal, as if nothing is out of the ordinary. Makes you feel insane and stupid. 


Leaving you on a light little note. The other day, while listening to my playlist, a song's lyric caught my attention, and tears rolled down my eyes, i tried to hide as i was on the bus. It went something like:
'Is Parcham kay saaye tallay hum aik hai. hum aik hai?'. 
My heart meekishly questioned: 'Kis Parcham kay!?'


Much Love,
NewbieAround. x

2 comments:

  1. Excellent My li'l sis! More power to you. Loved it.

    ReplyDelete