A poem written on August 14, 2020 for Pakistan's Independence Day.
when i think of pakistan,
i neglect the true beauty of the mountains,
i forsake the feeling i get when i step foot onto its plush fields,
i forget all about the mountains so high we must tilt our heads to view the true beauty in its entirety, in its whole.
when i hear the word pakistan,
i think of how it came about,
into the existence and world we know today.
i think of the relief and the tears our grandmothers and grandfathers shed when they were hit with the news that they’d have a place where they could be free.
where they can seek their dreams and their faith in a place so magical and safe.
i think the power we held years ago.
i think of the flag that we created in our trembling hands,
i think of the thoughts that ran through their heads when they found out that they won,
that they held power and a place in this world,
i think of the feelings that flooded their minds and imaginations of how their country would be accepting, would be a place in which we are welcomed to stay,
the facade of lies they painted washed away,
so no, i don’t just see pakistan as a place of a beauty, i see the symbolism that it holds to this day.
that no matter what happened in the past,
that we will forever lead this everlasting mark reminding the world that our faith should not set us apart.
that we will fight for what we believe in no matter how much of the world does us wrong.
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