21 Days

Dawn breaks.

It has been some time he has not seen broad daylight but today he is anticipating sunrays. This day he will be meeting his fate which will take away his license to life.

He wakes up, loosely hanging his legs from cemented slab while staring away, thinking what went wrong, where he stepped mistakenly or maybe he was destined. Every morning he misses his children jumping over him to drop them to school. It’s been days he is away from them and everyone else.

While washing his face and shaving almost a week’s beard, he ached for his wife’s reflection in the mirror. But he is not home. After dressing in crisp shalwar kamiz, he looks at himself with a familiarity he knew sometime back. Slipping on his leather sandals reminded him that he promised new joggers to his little one; a promise which will take time to be fulfilled. He is interrupted when a monotonous voice asked him,

“Sahab chai piyen gay?”
He nods with assent.

Coming out of cemented walls, heading towards the van, he keeps dodging the harsh sun. It takes some time to settle in and move ahead. His eyes move around and he catches a glimpse familiar and loved faces.

Hearing the several footsteps and surrounded by black & white souls, he enters with his head hanging down, looking at the mosaic floor. He is unable to find the answers except for saying, that it is not him. It seemed to him that he went unheard. Indeed, he was.

When coming down from the aisle, his eyes meet his brothers’ and he steps up to them. After purporting for a while, as if nothing has changed, they embrace each other and the salt can be picked and tasted from the corner of their eyes.

Life has collapsed from his hands while innocent and guilty walk hand in hand.

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SOS

Last night, when my brother called me to inquire about the attack on PNS Mehran, I was least bothered. I told myself probably it is some minor attack etc. and will be dealt with ease. Soon enough, a friend from Islamabad messaged that what the hell is happening in Karachi. That message put me on alert and thought maybe it’s another stroke on the capability of our forces after Operation Geronimo.

Obviously, like the majority of Pakistanis, I too was furious on the Pakistan Navy and its lack of surveillance and response to terrorism. My eyes were fixed on news channels till 2:30 a.m. while remarking how lame our forces can be. Despite that we got our SSG commandos on ground, we failed to save the base and aircraft from mere 15 terrorists. Probably they were far more dedicated to their cause and faithful to their promises of terror as compared to our supreme forces.

Somehow as a nation, we have blind faith in our military capabilities and assume that they are the savior. In recent months, our faith is being tried and tested and probably we are on the verge of losing it. I so don’t want to lose it.
Being a Pakistani, I am proud of various things and one of them is our Pakistan Armed Forces. They have made us proud on various occasions, either it's Battle of Mogadishu or a War against Terrorism. We have buried over 3000 soldiers and continue to do so. In return for our blood and sweat, we have got increased insecurity and orphaned generations.

It is high time, Pakistan Armed Forced buck up to their promised passion and stand for the national sovereignty. We have always believed in you and have given you our fathers, brothers, sons, and husbands. We expect you to protect us from unseen as you are one of us but above us.

We wish you a long life with the hope that it will not be wasted in barracks while planning your retirement plots in DHA or NORE.

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D for Divorce

Though it’s been a while now I sought divorced, I still keep coming across amusing social norms. Interestingly, they are found not only at home but even the west has its ways to address it.

My first ever amusement was seeing that children after divorce are either considered “issues” or casually called “excess baggage”. I clearly remember how many of those looking-concern aunties told me that am lucky for not having excess baggage with me. I was astonished to know that socially we torment the innocent existence. Wikipedia endorsed my astonishment when I read that Prince William and Prince Harry are not children but “issues” between Diana and Charles.

Almost 3 years ago, when I filed my case I knew am one of those few brave and bold women who dare to initiate this taboo factor. Brave because we know the consequences, and bold because ready to face the world with stigmata. In recent years, Pakistan has seen a high jump in divorce rate after a move made by Muslim Family Courts Amendment Ordinance. Despite, every year the numbers are increasing, we still consider it a taboo and keep hush tones.

In Pakistan, society is above religion and it doesn’t really matter that divorce is allowed by religion. If society considers it a taboo, it is a taboo and you better not challenge it. Though divorces are no more an unusual hearing but still outlawed.

A few days back over the weekend, during a late-night family gossip session, my sister told me that whenever she has to mention the word “divorce” in front of her 9-year-old, she instead use “doctor”. I told her that by now, your son must have known what it is. But her opinion is that “aise alfaaz khule aam istemaal karengay, tau khulay aam hogi” (if we use the word openly, it will happen openly). In short, the word should maintain its forbidden nature.

I fail to understand the shame in being divorced until unless it happened out of a shameful reason. We need to realize that God allows divorce, under severe condition, because He knew that such conditions will be born out of mankind. Unfortunately, mankind is not acceptable as we own small hearts and minds.

Our society tends to ignore the root causes of divorce, instead try to curb it by remaining it a social stigma; a stigma which has a different set of rules for male and female. For this, I need one lengthy post.

I will make sure I teach my children the difference between right and wrong so they know D is Divorce and Doctor both.

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