My sixty eight years of independence

By

Hira Azhar

The evergreen verse of William Wordsworth,

‘I wandered lonely as a cloud

that floats on high o’er vales and hills’

is no doubt a true depiction of me. Since my creation, I was always lonely, shy and a laid back entity. Being small in area, I was always considered a meagre being; not worthy of dignity by my siblings. I was not always like this.

Once, I was a great, pompous and treasured land containing many worthy and valuable treasures of the world, but after living in this state for several centuries, I found that my people were not happy with each other. I could see anger, restlessness and hatred in their eyes for each other. They were not ready to lead a peaceful life. Resultantly, few people from my land raised their voices and demanded my freedom. Was I ever kidnapped; I thought at that time; but seeing animosity in the eyes of my dear ones, I thought it was best for me to get separated from my other half.

Leaving my counterpart was a very terrible and gruesome incident which no eye could bear and no heart could tolerate. I left with a heavy heart; however, laying the foundation of my own land with my own name Pakistan was a very exciting event. I was extremely overjoyed to have my own piece of Earth in this world. During my creation, my founders faced a lot of problems but I was hopeful that with the passage of time these would be resolved.

Years passed by. My problems and troubles increased manifold. Sometimes, I saw my people crying because of poverty, some days because of electricity and gas. I waited silently for a messiah to solve my problems and to relieve my people from these trials and tribulations. My teary eyes became stagnant and my rosy cheeks pale with each passing hour. I hoped for someone to take me out from this dilemma. I witnessed the rapid progress of my neighbours and thought when I would see such development on my land.

This year I am celebrating my sixty-eighth birthday. Yes, I can see progress on my land today. I can witness the eye-catching metro buses running on my roads. I can see foreign dignitaries coming to my land for initiating developmental programs like the Gawadar-China road. I am also seeing the bright and beautiful lights shimmering in my dark and dense roads. Yes, I am progressing now. My long awaited silence and prayers have been listened to and now no one can stop me from making my own destiny.

I am Pakistan; the land of peace, tranquility and progress; that Pakistan which was created years ago by my ancestors. I am on a road of success and peace now. I am truly a cloud which is alone though, but is surviving on its own.

These are my sixty eight years of independence. What is your story?

Hira Azhar

Hira is a freelance Writer and Poet from Rawalpindi, Pakistan.