An eight-year-old me always mesmerised by the limitless ambience around me, yet never knowing why, replied, “Yes, I really like the way it looks, but it’s only like that some days and I enjoy staring at it every time during those few days.”
“Well, you know what, every time you get to see those days in your life, always remember to make a wish, because they say that no matter what you wish for when you see a new moon it will come true one day or another,” said mom.
To which I immediately inquired, “but who is they?” to which obviously I never got an answer until this day.
I am nearly 27 now and even though all our universe’s complex chain of events seem to reminisce such instances for some reason, maybe because if relentlessly worried about me, mom finds out it’ll make her tremendously delighted, or maybe it’s something larger than life which at this point in time I just do not have the capacity to find an answer to.
The faintly elongated speck of white above the smoky clouds in the photograph is my quest in life nowadays as a wish-come-true just might be the only thing worth living for. Yes of course there is always riches, power and fame, and in my case, the company of a newly found girl, or at times girls for that matter, movies, music, cookies and sleep. Yes, believe it or not, that’s all I ask for, at least at this point in time. But honestly what about those hours when I can’t turn to any of these and I turn my head to all the melancholy in the world? (Fade to black)
Cut to an indefinable volume of tears from heaven gushing on ground through lower Sindh towns in Pakistan, probably expected to make an end to their awfully protracted and treacherous journey again in an indefinite time period into the Arabian Sea. No, wait, sorry about that misleading scenario. Let’s rewind much before where this notion of my pursuit of a really needed wish was actually set in motion. Stay with me please, as I promise not to bore you with a hackneyed ‘PFN-ish’ blog. It gets better as we move along.
12:30 am, July 2, 2010, my lonely hours of night shift as a content producer at Dawn.com have just begun again after a very long time. The floods in Pakistan have made their way through much of the country demarcated by Mr. Jinnah. Every major top story on the frequently visited main pages of our website clearly had to be covered with the latest flood reports supported with heart breaking images from our various sources, personally color corrected by me to add effect. How sick and disgusting I am, taking pride in honing my Photoshop skills every night on utter devastation and wrecked human lives. But wait, quoting a dialogue from the film ‘Fight Club’, slightly modified by me, “I am not Jack’s inflamed sense of rejection.” I did what I did because sincerely I wanted the world to feel something, and share that feeling and realize that not only is something wrong but something has always been wrong.
For nearly two whole weeks I sat in a comfortable air-conditioned yet forlorn news room, made imaginary friends including animals to keep me company, heard the strangest of callings within the depths of ‘Mordor’ look alike corridors (including a boy singing from within an office in the building at 5:35 am), often munched on cold sandwiches plus Red Bulls for Sehri, and updated the website with stories upon stories about the floods. During my routine of going through disconcerting images every night (mind you occasionally my pupils used to fill up with water too and once, just once I let it all out and a tear or two trickled down my bearded cheeks) I mustered the impetus to write a blog upon these feelings I had to share with the world. Ideas upon ideas and inspiration came storming with brain storming and every early morning I made my cherished senior colleague on the morning shift listen to my bottled up frustrations and agonies of the hours before which made me always feel much much better. With pushing inspiration from this colleague, I emailed my senior most desk editor saying that I will be sending in a blog based upon what I am actually writing now within a day, and as usual I could not fulfill my commitment. In Jack’s words again, yes, “I am Jack’s complete lack of surprise.” I failed to deliver at the right meaningful time, but have not lost all hope and faith yet as I know for a fact that everyone and anyone having the will power can become a ‘doer’, something I learnt only recently. So I embarked on writing today.
My predicament with the melancholy isn’t really with what has happened and the consequences, the after math and all the hands all over the world specially within Pakistan that are helping in rebuilding and rehabilitating back to normality, but rather what the word ‘normality’ actually still means to humanity in this day and age. True I was completely emotionally broken down looking at images such as a village girl eating let’s say literally ten grains of rice off her tiny palm, young boys thrashing another one who got hold of food before them, seven men sharing a small serving of rice with chick peas out of a single plate, a toddler sitting on a pile of filthy haystack scratching his head covered in flies, and a mother with two little children wading through neck deep water while the young ones still managing to keep smiles on their faces. But if all ever man did was wait for such state of affairs to occur, watch footage, images and read stories about earthly devastation and then reflect upon doing something about it, and then finally be motivated enough to carry out his bit of social responsibility, either it would be too late or maybe even not take place at all.
My point dear reader (I hope you’re still with me) is that it is the tiniest of things in life which always seem trivial to all of us, as everyone is relentlessly in a rush to achieve something we all are looking for, but in all reality we do not really know what that even is. Instead why cannot all of humanity every morning wake up with a smile whether it’s the right side of the bed or not and say “Good Morning” to anyone and everyone around them so it’ll make one self and the other feel good about it no matter how disgruntled we all are. Why cannot humanity go to their washrooms, stop the rat race of regular activities and simply reflect upon oneself in the mirror so that maybe the day for everyone would go by better thought over and well-managed? Why cannot humanity stop wasting loads of running water while washing ones face and brushing the teeth and remember that countless people around the world do not have access to any sort of water leave alone running water? Why cannot humanity consume healthy food and drink, always thank God or any other spiritual higher power for fulfillment of the tummy, not ever let anything go to waste, either preserving the food when needed later, or feeding the hungrier ones all around or even giving it to other creations like animals who after all exist on earth for one reason or another? Why cannot humanity take care of oneself and others while driving a car, riding a motorbike or a bicycle, or crossing a road on foot, maybe even take out just a few seconds to give some loose change to a needy or disabled person if spotted along the way which would make his or her day? Why cannot humanity ever learn self restraint and at least try and control all forms of anger on others as more than enough hatred, brutality and bloodshed has been seen for centuries from which no good outcome has ever come about? If there is so much need, one should find the furthest cliff, scream out loud at the top of one’s voice and release all the antagonism while also hoping that the bad vibes evaporate into thin air as they are infectious and could be caught by someone else. Why cannot humanity stop lying and cheating oneself and others in all walks of life and be just to every cause one pursues so that the whole process in every day’s chain of events goes smoothly and efficiently for everyone? Why cannot humanity before going to sleep every night reflect upon the whole day and contemplate how tomorrow can be a better day for oneself and everyone else and also pray that one’s thoughts come true for a better world.
It is still not too late, in fact it is never too late to start doing the miniature deeds in life and changing the perspective of what it originally meant to be human and normal. The fact that twins were born to a flood affected mother in the midst of the utter chaos and suffering, gives me at least some hope that there is still something to work for and look forward to in life.
So, dear mom, I’m still on the hunt for that skinny little shining crescent in the night sky you pointed out years ago and am longing for that feeling of mesmerisation.
My wish dear reader is that humanity comes back to its senses and does what really needs to be done.
Hasaan Haider is a Multimedia Content Producer at Dawn.com
Photo by writer.
From blog.dawn.com published on Aug 31, 2010
