16/12- #IndiaWithPakistan

Dear Apa,

It always extends to be a long era since I catch up here and I apologize, I do confess that I am sometimes really bad at keeping my life at a balance. You will be surprised to know that I'm no more in Lahore while writing this post but back in my home. Our University had to announce Winter Holidays before our finals that were to happen due to prevailing security threats in the country and to the educational institutions and I had to catch up the flight of next day to return home. These past days have been quite unexpected days of my life. 16/12 proved to 9/11 for Pakistan and sighs, sighs, we cannot even properly get out of it. Probably, we never ever will be the same after Peshawar Massacre. It snatched the soul out of our bodies. We always saw flowers on the dead bodies, never did we see the dead bodies of flowers. Flowers so innocent, so delicate, so unique. Unique in their stories and their fragrance. I've been writing and writing but the first instance when I read the news, I stood still in a shock with no words. Silence prevailed. I swear, it actually happened. I cannot imagine what happened, what those parents went through, I cannot imagine. It's like dying but not being able to die. The worst of wounds anyone could inflict upon us.

I didn't know how I felt. I was so angry and so frustrated at the same time. I cried. And I was so hurt. I didn't know what to do of this slow bursting in tears and tapping my pen into something, I opened it up and wrote something. I pushed myself to write something, and all the words that I could actually pile up on that paper were these to which I titled as 'Apne bikhre khayalat ka bikhra izhaar':

Likh likh k thak gaye hain sab,
Parne lagi hai madam kalam ki roshnai,
Lahoo ka jism se hai rishta aisaa,
Lekin aik nayaa itihaaz rachne laga hai ye dekho kesaa,
Bagair bhi jee lete hain hamare watan k ye anokhe sipaayi,
Junoon ka aik naya silsilaa kharaa honey laga dekho kesa,
Ye aansoon ki kataaren, ye Qabron ki kami,
Itni mehngi ye matti, aur itna sasta ye khoon
Kis tarah sameten, kis kis ko sambhalen,
Hum sab hee dhoob rahe hain inn aansoon k jharan main,
Itne masoomon ki cheekhein, itne asaatzaa ki dars o tadrees,
Unn ki aankhon main mazloomiyat phir bhi gharon main toofan bhara
Yahan tau sab hee dete hain jaanon ka nazrana
Kese bhool paayen ge hum unn phoolon ki muskaratein,
Dekho thakte nahn wo hevaan bhujaate bhujaate
Kitne diye bhujaayegen?
Hum din main sooraj ki roshni hain,
Hum raat ko jugnoo ka halkaa hain,
Iss mulk k saaye taaley, hum marr mitne ko zinda hain
Kesi jang hai ye, kesa waqt hai
Lahoo k khel ko banaa dia hai khidmat e insaaniyat
Aey watan, pyaare watan, tu hai aur hum hain,
Hai kesi ye uljhan, hai kesa ye zulm, hai kesi ye jhaariyat
Hum sab kitne bikhre hain aaj, phir bhi saath hain,
Hum aik hain, hum aik hain aaj

After completing it, I wanted to write and never stop. But, I'd to go attend the vigil in university. Every eye was wet, every face was sad. Pakistan couldn't still digest what just happened to it. But, when I came online I saw, Kirthi Apa sending this voice note which told us about this trend #IndiaWithPakistan and I saw quite large number of Indians coming out in support of Pakistan in this tragedy and through this post, I also want to Thank you India for their support and love. It felt more than just good. It touched us. Quite honestly, this project has taught me a lot about peace. It has taught me what I'm to me and what others are to me and what peace is to us. It has made me realize what I wanted to do in my life. I confess, hereby, that this project instilled me this passion for activism in every aspect and because of it, after this incident I took one of the quite small yet independent decisions of my life. It was to go on a walk of silent protest with my University without calling home and telling them that I was going. Why did I do this? It wasn't that I didn't bother about them, It wasn't either because my Parents wouldn't let me go out after this incident, it was because I knew that my Parents would support me in this and guess what? They were proud after hearing this.
Apa, that day I cried a lot like everyone else and I couldn't sleep for days. One of the reasons to it was that all the lives that were lost, I saw them as my brothers. I have two brothers who study in an army boarding school, what more could tear me apart when I saw this happening. God forbidden, it could happen to anyone. All those faces were not unknown to me, I felt they being very close to me. I felt they being my part because we are Pakistan and I'm them, they were me, we all are one. My point here to make is that we are all trained for this, we all know what could happen to us, my Dad still after this incident didn't mind me coming home on a coach.

What makes me even more sad these days is this helplessness. I regret coming back home, I wish I could go to Peshawar. I long to meet those all whose sons, daughters, relatives gave blood for this nation. Peace, I wish I can go and take a message of peace to soothe their pain, that I never can. These wounds are so deep and fresh. Let them remain this way because they will keep instilling in us this passion to do something, to play our part in peace, to play our part in this war. This life seems a debt which I never can pay back but at least, I can try.
And my rest of the life, I shall use for this purpose. I shall live for it. I shall die for it. Peace is my message. Peace is for Pakistan. Peace is for India. We all need Peace and not war. 

Give peace a chance, pretty please, pretty please!

Love
Sehr