by Gareebah
It was April 30th yesterday, officially celebrated in Pakistan as Youm-e-Shuhada, meaning Day of the Martyrs, in memory of the brave souls who have sacrificed their lives for the sake of the nation. As expected, the day was celebrated all over Pakistan and abroad; the Pakistani community abroad did not fail their brethren back home, and made sure they join them in celebration of an annual event of national importance. The nation paid its warmest tribute to the sons who gave up their today for our tomorrow, with the deepest love and affection for their loyalty and valour, and the greatest pride and appreciation for their bravery and sacrifice. It was yet another occasion to revive the heartfelt love and loyalty for the nation and its people, to relive the encouraging memories with a novel hope, and to renew the promise to give up all for this land and its soil.
But there was another class of patriots as well, the modern living room warriors, some of whom reminded each other not to forget to wear a green ribbon in honour of those who gave up their lives, and others beautifully and creatively blended the green shade into the dashing dressing and makeup styles, all alongside the most expressive messages and pictures being exchanged.
It reminded me of an online show I had attended last year, on this very event, on the request of a friend who was an RJ. The RJ started the show with a reminder about the event, paid a tribute to the martyrs and followed it with patriotic tracks. The young men and women, the assets of the nation, kept requesting for Justin Bieber and Hallelujah, and went on boy-friending and girl-friending and LOLing and RoFLing in the chat window; while I, a born Indian, was left gaping!
My attempts at following the wonderful lyrics failed, and mentally, I was transported back to India. I remembered how even the craziest Indians suddenly stopped laughing at stupid jokes and ceased making cheap gestures the moment a patriotic song was played, or the Indian flag was hoisted, or a mention was made of the Indian army or its achievements. In India or Indian schools abroad, August 15th or January 26th are not mere opportunities to try out makeup or hair accessories in a green-saffron theme; even the most rebellious youth could be easily reined on these days.
The voice of the RJ, laughing loudly at a hilarious joke cracked by someone in the chat window, had brought me back to the present. The contrast had pierced through my heart. I couldn’t help thinking that had Indian youth been so insensitive, it would perhaps be affordable. Belonging to a powerful country, having strong friends to pat their backs and reach out for their help, to the extent of betraying their own historical allies just to please Bhaarat Mahaan, Indians have not much to fear. If they close their eyes, forget the reality and drown themselves in Bollywood, they could afford it, for some time at least.
But is it so with Pakistan? Neighbouring a powerful enemy, which is always ready for aggression and tyranny, with the long-time allies always ready for betrayal and standing up for the enemy; and moreover, the whole world looking in their direction with contempt and hostility, all unitedly hell-bent upon destroying the country for good, even if it requires orchestrating conspiracies and sacrificing their own people just to create unrest and tension; can the youth of such a nation remain asleep?! Can they afford a year-long insensitivity, unbreakable even in the face of such events and patriotic songs hailing the sacrifices of the martyrs?!
It reminded me of a short story by Umera Ahmed, where she describes a section of Pakistani youth attending an event in commemoration of the sacrifices and achievements of the martyrs. The brave soldiers, some of whom have lost their limbs or sight or hearing, are invited to the stage to inspire the future assets of the nation; the Assets that are bored with the broken statements of a man who lived and outlived an actual tragedy; the Future that does not care for the Past, nor for those who bought them this Future and paid for it with their lives; the energetic youth that is getting impatient to see the heartthrob pop singer, in place of the man attempting to describe how he ensured that these children of the nation could organise music shows, by facing and repelling the enemy on the borders; how he secured them these music concerts and risked his life for it, how he endured avalanches and snow bites so that the pop singer could entertain the nation and sing them to sleep, while he stayed awake for days on end.
Back then, I had not been able to contain myself, and had ruined the musical show by turning it into a patriotic lecture and walked out. But I had finally managed to forget the mortifying experience after a whole year, and decided to engage in trending #SalamShuhada on Twitter. Reminders about not forgetting to wear the green ribbon were tweeted and retweeted, which seemed to be enough tribute to the souls of the martyrs according to some, who went on to lament how somebody called Justin Bieber could trend more than something called Sunlay by someone called Asim Azhar!
Not to say that there are not serious people around, of course many are discussing the election manifestos of different political parties and attacking all but one, others are performing the duty of purifying any particular political personality of all his past crimes and presenting him as the saviour of Pakistan, some are feeling sure that if the election manifestos of the parties really mean something, Pakistan will turn into Singapore by the end of the year, irrespective of who wins in the elections; and of course, the myth busters who are clarifying and reminding the population that the election symbol allotted to a particular party is the Tiger and not the Lion! How can they let you ruin the future of the nation by making the wrong choice between lions and tigers, after all?
And the real lions mostly remained forgotten, those who rose above these worldly debates of victories and losses, who did not make huge promises with their tongues nor signed baseless statements with their hands; but chose to let their valour speak for them and their blood sign their vows on the soil of the beloved land. These were the actual builders of the nation, who did not ask for a salary raise as a price for patriotism, but paid their tribute to the nation in terms of the currency of life. They sold their Past and Present to buy us our Future. They stayed awake so we could sleep, fought and endured so we could rest, exchanged heavy bullets so we could exchange gifts, ran in the most dangerous terrains so we could attend marathons, played with the guns and rifles so we could play cricket, and listened to the music of the fires and bombs so we could hail our pop singers and sing their tracks.
Did they remember us and fight for us so we could forget them and indulge in the luxuries of our lives?! If one of these martyrs ever had a chance to come back and speak to the nation, what would he say? He would not ask for green ribbons to be worn or flowers to be placed on his grave, he would only request his people to harbour in their own hearts a portion of that love, loyalty and gratefulness for the nation, that he paid tribute to with his life and soul. He would perhaps request us to please take it a step further and educate our masses and wake them up if they indeed can be so insensitive. Let us all ask ourselves, do we really dare face these Heroes that have given us the right to be proud and raise our heads high?!
Ghareebah is doing her MA in English, a passionate Indian Muslimah, searching for the higher truths.