Thirst of a life

~It’s the coffin I am in~
~Every nail in it taking my breath~
~Darkness has overcome my sight~
~I was but now I am no more alive~
~running blood, sewn needle~
~and the touch of the burnt coal~
~It’s the part of the death~
~or the conscious of my soul~
~a rope is wrapping along my feet~
~every sting of it drowning my beat~
~it’s a venom or a bite of a snake~
~nothing lesser than the nibble of a hake~
~shrugging my shoulder, moving my toes~
~raising my wrapped feet~
~just a failed try or unable to feel the heat~
~loosened my feet, numbed my senses, closed my eyes~
~for running away from death, for the thirst of a life~

My condition is not better than the person, counting his last breaths on his death bed. Yes, I am a Pakistani and I have a thirst of life. Sitting in the nook, evaluating myself, assessing entire 23 years, counting gains, subtracting profit and what I am left with is the turnover of the last couple of years.  

Let’s end this identification problems phase here and get into the accountability phase. Who is responsible for this? Pakistan? Obviously, not. Strategically marked land on the map of world has got nothing to do with it. It doesn’t even know what is being done to its resources and ornaments which were once a part of it. Who else is responsible for this? Circumstances and surroundings? Yes, they are responsible for this. We are into the accountability phase today. Let me ask myself. Who has created these circumstances where I am feeling myself lying on the death bed? Who has created this surrounding when my hands are tied up that I cannot move an inch to refrain myself from the stings of other creatures? Who has created this atmosphere where I am unable to run away from death and all what I am striving for is to quench my thirst of life? It’s me. It’s no one else but it’s me.

I call myself a Pakistani, I celebrate green day with zest and enthusiasm but then for the rest of the year I consider myself belonging to one of the provinces of Pakistan. I support the people of my cast and creed. I give my prop to the political party of my language no matter how asinine they have proved themselves in the past and how much I myself have suffered in their own era. I fight for the division of my own province where I have not got my due rights and I am not ready to accept the existence of other casts too. In order to gain people’s attention, I portray myself more religious in the month of Ramadan. I lie, sometimes to my own self as well, but when it comes to giving sadka and Khairat, I pay heavy amount. Have-nots around me pray for my long life but at the same time my siblings are unhappy with me for not giving them due rights in our forefather’s property. I love dramas and media of my country knows how to make most of it. I regularly see Astaghfar shows in Ramadan and would proudly be the part of the protest against them. In order to avoid standing in the long queue for paying utility bills, I pay an extra amount to some peon. I don’t pay tax until or unless administration of my society sends me warning letter twice. Trash can is too far away from my house so I prefer throwing garbage to my neighbor’s door step. My child got sick and could not appear in SSC’s exam but due to my influence and sources, he secured 85%. I have got job with GPA of 2.7 because the CEO of the company was my dad’s fellow. I cannot abide by the rules and regulations of driving in my country but I don’t forget to wear seat belts whenever I drive in abroad. Last but not the least, my competitor will always be the most corrupted guy and I won’t miss any chance of creating conspiracies against him.

That’s me and I still believe that Pakistan has given me nothing. It’s the accountability day today. I am asking myself, what have I given to Pakistan? It’s not me who is lying in coffin. It is Pakistan who is striving for the thirst of life.