Unseen Reflections

With the recent Indo-Pak conflict, I found myself diving deep into Pakistan’s history—back to the stories of 1947, the year of our independence. I’ll spare you the gruesome details, but what struck me most were the unimaginable sacrifices made by that generation to build the Pakistan we live in today. A Pakistan envisioned as a land of justice, dignity, and freedom.

And yet today, I watch from afar as that very vision fades. The people are tired. Women are silenced. Leaders are corrupt. And the streets echo with despair.

Have we forgotten those sacrifices?
For every woman who endured pain,
For every family that never made it,
For every child torn from their loved ones—
Have we forgotten those who left behind their ancestral homes, their belongings, and their entire lives to come to the land we now call Pakistan?

We must remember their sacrifices not just with sorrow, but with responsibility. Their pain was not meant to be mourned in silence, but carried forward as a call to action, It is not just the leaders who bear duties to the nation, but every citizen carries a responsibility towards Pakistan.

To my dearest homeland:
I still dream.
I dream of a better Pakistan—not perfect, just better.

Where women walk freely and are respected for who they are.
Where leaders serve the people, not themselves.
Where honesty is a strength, not a weakness.
Where kindness isn’t rare, but the norm.
Where every child, no matter how poor, dares to dream.

Until then, I will carry you in every prayer. Pakistan Zindabad.