Pakistani Rhapsody!

We have all admired the flowing beauty, rhythmic splendor and the transcendental reach of Beethoven's seminal Symphony No.5. If the classical music is a divine, soul-lifting and awe-inspiring byproduct of a group of people, who are maestros in their own right, come together, subordinate their ego and work as a team, then what can one say about one diverse, annoyingly complex, relentlessly acrimonious behemoth of a state , that has somehow astoundingly managed to churn out something equivalent of a Fifth Symphony successfully for the past 60 years? They brand her as "Land of the pure". She is indeed pure and pristine in every conceivable way. The Sun shines over the earth like a generous and diligent patriarch, funnelling life, energy and hope to every creature habitating underneath and is the vantage viewer of the saga of what goes on around this cyclopean planet called Earth. But its love, care, generosity and splendour reaches its zenith when it turns its face towards the land of the pure. The result of a seminal and numinous birth, midwifed by the Divinity itself. A land of dreamers, of the valiant and the chivalrous, of the hospitable and warm, of the punctillious and steadfast, of the beautiful and the noble, of the faithful and proud, of the fanciful and elegant, of the rich and attractive, of vast steppes and galacial peaks, of mighty rivers and pastoral fields, of vast ocean and bustling cities- PAKISTAN. No wonder, it reserves the best part of shine, splendour and ardour for its beloved land( a scientifically verified fact that pakistan receives the maximum sunlight in the world on any given day-14 hours on average). The Fifth Symphony of Pakistan might not be all that milk and honey as one would hope for or expect to see. It is an amalgam of components of mind-assaulting proportions. Pakistan is not just the name of a physical entity, circumscribed by man made boundaries, demarcated along political and strategic lines or defined by cliche and banality. But its the name of an ideology, a concept, an ideal. A spirit uninhibited, an impulse unrestrained, a thread of unity which runs through the humoungous fraternity sprawled across the planet called muslims. A source of inspiration, strength and hope for all those who have forgotten how to smile, for those who have been made to part with their identity and deprived of their homes, clamouring for freedom and craving for respect and recognition. Its the melody embedded within the dulcet and immortal tunes of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, the whizzing of air produced by the forceful swish of Jahangir Khan's all conquering racket, the trajectory of the cherry being thudded across the stratosphere by Boom Boom Afridi, the electrcity and coiled strength behind every thunderbolt unleashed by a smoke emitting, horn blowing, surging forward Rawalpindi express, the first muttering of an out of breath gasping yet resilient Nazir Sabir after scaling the summit of Mount Everest, the pattern formed by whorls of dust left behind by a charging and prowling Al-Khalid tank, the centre of affections and longings in the prayers being recited from the glacial peaks of siachen to the littoral esplanades of Gawadar, the pitch behind the call to the faithful emanating from the pulpit of Badshahi Mosque to the resonance and echo of the slogans raised by the defenders of the soil from the steppes of Tharparkar to the depths of Arabian sea, behind every swivel of the tillaged harvest in the plains of the land of five rivers, the pigment behind the heart fluttering blushes of the proverbially fair skinned pathan maidens, the seismic shocks resulting from the deafening and mighty stomps of Rangers in green, from the humming of power looms of Gujrat, to the clattering of iron hitting against willow in the factories of Sialkot, from the plush and swanky environs of Lahore to the rugged and rustic terrians of Bolan- PAKISTAN continues to live, propser, and advance in its own merry way. O my beloved land, the first thing on my mind when i wake up and the last when i close my eyes, my primal fondness, the apple of my eye, centre of all attention

and fountainhead of my strength, resolve and courage,the redness behind my blood, the source of all my powers-happy birthday to you, May Allah grant you a life paralleled only by Prophet Khizar, and might and glory surpassed only by the Almighty itself.