However, there’s a criteria to everything….. There’s a definition to everything….. There’s a rationale to everything…….and…..there’s a limit to everything..
Some weeks back, when I visited old Maj Ishaq (R) to condole about his valiant son, he appeared as cool, composed and carefree; as the old, women and children seem.
(Sadly, they are supposed not to be…..! Actually, they are never….)
سچ ہی کہتے
بچّوں ، بوڑھوں ، عورتوں کو کب فکر ہے جنگ کی
وہ تو سب کے سانجھے ھوتے
وہ تو سب کے اپنے ہوتے
بچّے سب کے پیارے ہوتے
بوڑھے سب کے وڈیرے ہوتے
مائیں سب کی چھاؤں ہوتیں
“……سرحد پر ہر بار چلی جب گولی”
اِن رِشتوں کا
اِن خوابوں کا
اِن ناطوں کا خون ہوا تھا
(Last lines of a poem – written for a friend who is sweet….for a cause that is worthy….on a note that is sacred…..with a feeling that may never find words to be described….)
Yes, my dear Wisi Baba! As we were discussing the rationale of things the other day….. Yes, the price that someone bears in the form of losing a dear one is the actual cost of war…. Such is the irony of life, that the understanding of meanings is always related to losing something, someone…….naam, cheez, jagah….
Hence, the value of these sons of soil is best known by their dear ones…….so are the meanings of words like nation, cause, shahaadat, war, freedom, etc…
Two days from now, there will be anniversary of dozens of rose-buds who never got to bloom…….all in the name of God….all by the people of God….