On Resilience

Maybe it’s a drowning man clutching at straws or maybe this actually means something; today I saw a sliver of hope- not in a person or an incident but in a very random idea. Perhaps there’s hope; not of survival or of development but of spirit and if not of longevity then of remembrance.

I don’t want to get in to the politics, history or the conspiracy of it all but the more I think about it, it’s inevitable that sometime in the future (I pray for distant) we will be forced to flee, to hide and to renounce all and any claim we have to our homes. Move on, as this place gets trampled on by an array of battles; armed or otherwise, or we stay and become collateral damage. Die or hide, in any case the idea I had of growing up to stability and perfection, all those resolutions and promises they will remain unfulfilled and undone.

We have gotten to a place where ‘Pakistan Zindabad’ has become ‘Pakistan say zinda bhaag’.

But this is where the morose bit ends, because here’s the thing, despite all of this we still plough on!

We’re a queer bunch of people, to defy odds and emblazon our identity ever so proudly. The more the world hates us, the more desperately we cling onto what we’ re left with and again they take from us and we still manage to make do with the remainder, more sullen than before but still devout.

It seemed stubborn and delusional all this time, and today I saw it for what it was – resilient.

We have seen nothing but a string of hurdles, each knocking us over, chipping away bits. Through all of that we have prevailed, albeit with stunted progress and frowned faces, we still find meaning enough to cherish a little patriotism.

It’s a romantic idea, one that won’t get us too far but it gives me faith and some perverse justification of pride, because passion and the ever readiness to ‘die for my country’ comes easier to us than most things.

The mere fact that there are some who can find a reason to stand by this place, that reason being nothing but a sense of belonging- it gives me hope that the future may hold for us, a dismembered state and vanished demarcations, but it will never be said that we were not a courageous nation.

Possibly, valour is one of our better traits, not honesty or perseverance but steadfastness and loyalty.

I think, it’s not the worst thing to be remembered in such terms. Of course there will be those who scoff at this notion but it’s one of those rare moments of optimism where doom although eminent does not feel like a complete loss.

The measures we take for this country may be makeshift and may not amount to anything, but the people show no sign of stopping. I don’t know if it’s irrational to continue on at this point, but I do know that these people (including me) - we haven’t given up yet.