`~ What Is Pakistan? ~`

Pakistan; it’s a piece of land on map for the world. True. Though being born and raised in this so called piece of land bestowed Jinnah’s leadership in my thoughts. Im divinely granted with Iqbal’s dreams in my actions and have Sir Syed’s ambitions in my learning.

I have inherited the struggle of thousands of crusaders who wrote my name in the will of independence with their blood. I owe the sacrifice of Rashid Minhas. I belong to the minerals of Baluchistan, fertility of Indus, beauty of Khyber Pakhtunkhua and food of Punjab.

Pakistan honored me… It gave me a name, an identity, recognition and the confidence of ownership to face the world. My genes and my blood do not allow me to curse Pakistan for terrorism, political instability, and security issues or for losing semi-final to India. 

I don’t know what should I exactly be proud of but I don’t feel any hesitation in acknowledging that Pakistan is my pride, my love and my inspiration. I indubitably belong to it and whole heartedly own it with all its slips and flaws because this is My Pakistan.

PAKISTAN ZINDABAD ♥

My Resolution for Dreaming!

Dream & Keep Dreaming.

Only those dare dreaming who have the spark to get them fulfilled. For dreams are the first step towards reality and happiness. Even if they are not painted as we wish, they leave us with shades atleast that we could color our life with.

Dreams are accompanied with fear but you compliment them with optimism !!

~ Life-stretching Lives ~

Unknowingly humming a lullaby. The lullaby melted with unfathomable wishes that are soaked in responsibilities and wrapped with strength & with some splashes of love, probably the undesired ones. Humming the lullaby and painting the life with obvious colors of death. Intentionally not distinguishing the caption of colors brutally spread on the canvas of liberty. Realising but ignoring the cost of happiness; and ruthlessly trying the new fusion of dangers.

For a tired moment, taking a pause, raising the head and catching the sight of a free flying bird, following its flight with a longing to enjoy thy self but for only a short divine moment. A moment that unwantedly invades self control from the back window of innocence nevertheless ignoring to catch a glimpse, by any chance, of the question marks raised by a crazy soul. Over looking everything around and starting painting again with all its might. Closing the eyes to life’s beauties and continuing smothering it with paint coats. I wonder. I wonder what level of courage, valor, patience and insanity it requires to play such a gamble. Yes insanity too.

If got some spare time, relaxing on the cozy chair of obligations and taking a sip of hot confidence avoiding the cold of confusions and coating another stroke with a calm smile. And challenging life yet again. Putting the brush of revenge in the plate of duties and stealing a moment for one self and searching the drawers to find a twinkling flash. When ended triumphant then sighing with relief holding something in hands; holding the remaining cards from the deck of love. Grasping the moment and holding the breathe while the leftover cards illuminate the concerns & reflect back at its comrade, though still not holding left ones tight =/.

Not wasting another moment, getting up with a fresh zeal of defeating the hopping urge of life and coating another stroke of challenge in the picture. When done with day’s work; noticing the fingers stained with the shades of burden, giving a vicious unforgiving smile and cleaning them with the duster of busy schedule and strategising the new combats.

Humming the lullaby again with soft touchy feel and painting the life with obvious colors of death; with more devotion, more involvement and ever greater master.