The descent was made on an early august morning, year 2002 with a thunderous roar of jet engines on the runways of the Jinnah int'l airport and a sleek PIA jetliner had emerged from the morning haze. A 10-year old gazed out of the streamlined windows at the harsh terrain beside the airfield wondering where his ill-fate was taking him. The fact that he was in his native land wasn't unexpectedly exciting. He recalled the events of the previous day which had passed on bidding farewell to his closest cousin and his beloved Arabian land, Jeddah, where he had all the fun and exhilaration enough for a lifetime. But now his adventures had come to an abrupt end. And why was it? he never knew. About an hour later, whilst managing a grin, he strolled along with his family towards a cheerful woman, who was amongst a group of welcomers waving on the airport exit. His aunt probably. He barely uttered a word on his way towards his new home. His little trembling body and sweaty hands indicated the condition of his future. Having lived an extravagant life, he was unaware of the agony of its darker side and now it was evident that the hurdles were right before him; he had to face them;even if they cost his life.
Few minutes later, the battered cab screeched to a halt in front of a dilapidated house which, apparently his grandfather owned,was about 5 decades old. After propelling his reluctant feet into the 'haunted house' , he found himself being snatched and pulled by his crazy relatives eager to hug and kiss his soft,fluffy, magenta cheeks. But the infant was, as usual, unaware that this love and admiration was just a deception. The time for hatred and criticism to vanquish all the affection was en route. All he had to do now was to brace himself for the war against traitorous creatures that ruled this land.
Several years later, the boy, having grown up, had realized what the strange city held in store for him. Things seemed to go beyond his imagination. Though being occasionally good in studies, he had to suffer immense torture at school as well as his neighbourhood. People cursed him, teased him, kicked him and blamed him for not being like themselves. Teachers were like wild beasts bellowing over his head; they intentionally slapped directly on his eyes instead of the cheeks. And the child? the child returned home resembling a beggar and sobbing like the bewitched. He feared his existence with others except his own family; seldom met people and used to seek refuge in secluded spots. Solitude seemed soothing and refreshing.
But after sometime, he was again seen with his enemies; laughing and giggling. Why? because he was desperately in search of love. He needed it badly, from no matter whom. From every large pile of suffering, he found tiny bits of love. To gain something precious he had to lose something. Through years of interaction, he gradually learn't the virtues of life and ways of tackling the imminent war against the others. He could clearly observe the pile of suffering reduce and love increase.
Regaining his composure yielded infinite success. He had become a perpetual position-holder. His classmates worried about his studies instead of theirs, teachers praised his benevolence, neighbours admired his sports ability. Having realized the strength of the power of patience, he apparently won the inital war of his life and held up the trophy of heroism high with pride. And what he had to do? he only had to learn the basic ingredients of life, he had to practice, struggle and suffer to get the fruit of eminence. He had to learn the labyrinthine codes of social interaction whilst being just.
Yet there was something else into existence secretly calling for love; really close. But the boy never knew nor heard where it was. If he had recognized its true essence, he could have gotten not only love, but everything he needed in the world in just a mere click. It was the love of God. Yes! lurking beside him and he? unaware of its soft warmth. It was a shortcut to the love of this world by loving God, being close to him and listening to his latent call for enlightenment. The boy then had embedded the true motive of God and religion in his memory and sets off to the journey of glory; following his noble forefathers' footsteps.
P.S: that child was none other than me.
Few minutes later, the battered cab screeched to a halt in front of a dilapidated house which, apparently his grandfather owned,was about 5 decades old. After propelling his reluctant feet into the 'haunted house' , he found himself being snatched and pulled by his crazy relatives eager to hug and kiss his soft,fluffy, magenta cheeks. But the infant was, as usual, unaware that this love and admiration was just a deception. The time for hatred and criticism to vanquish all the affection was en route. All he had to do now was to brace himself for the war against traitorous creatures that ruled this land.
Several years later, the boy, having grown up, had realized what the strange city held in store for him. Things seemed to go beyond his imagination. Though being occasionally good in studies, he had to suffer immense torture at school as well as his neighbourhood. People cursed him, teased him, kicked him and blamed him for not being like themselves. Teachers were like wild beasts bellowing over his head; they intentionally slapped directly on his eyes instead of the cheeks. And the child? the child returned home resembling a beggar and sobbing like the bewitched. He feared his existence with others except his own family; seldom met people and used to seek refuge in secluded spots. Solitude seemed soothing and refreshing.
But after sometime, he was again seen with his enemies; laughing and giggling. Why? because he was desperately in search of love. He needed it badly, from no matter whom. From every large pile of suffering, he found tiny bits of love. To gain something precious he had to lose something. Through years of interaction, he gradually learn't the virtues of life and ways of tackling the imminent war against the others. He could clearly observe the pile of suffering reduce and love increase.
Regaining his composure yielded infinite success. He had become a perpetual position-holder. His classmates worried about his studies instead of theirs, teachers praised his benevolence, neighbours admired his sports ability. Having realized the strength of the power of patience, he apparently won the inital war of his life and held up the trophy of heroism high with pride. And what he had to do? he only had to learn the basic ingredients of life, he had to practice, struggle and suffer to get the fruit of eminence. He had to learn the labyrinthine codes of social interaction whilst being just.
Yet there was something else into existence secretly calling for love; really close. But the boy never knew nor heard where it was. If he had recognized its true essence, he could have gotten not only love, but everything he needed in the world in just a mere click. It was the love of God. Yes! lurking beside him and he? unaware of its soft warmth. It was a shortcut to the love of this world by loving God, being close to him and listening to his latent call for enlightenment. The boy then had embedded the true motive of God and religion in his memory and sets off to the journey of glory; following his noble forefathers' footsteps.
P.S: that child was none other than me.
