My
Heart Is More in Pakistan than Ever
By Anila Ali
Irvine, CA
“Be loyal to your adopted
country and be faithful to your country of birth,”
advised my father when I got my US citizenship.
I truly cherish my father’s words because
it is now that I have understood their meaning.
America has given me the education that many people
only dream of; it is a land of opportunity and
for that I will be loyal to her. The country of
my birth, Pakistan, is a different story. There
is an unbreakable attachment with it. “I
am moving back to Pakistan,” I declare every
year after returning from my vacation.
I land at Karachi Airport and see my fellow countrymen
scurrying about trying to lure the foreigners
to let them carry their luggage, or get them a
speedy custom’s pass or get them rupees
for the dollars. Then there is the confidence
that everything will be taken care of; after all
it is my real home. I get my immigration stamped,
get my picture taken thorough an American-planted
lens, I acquire my luggage and head on to the
customs. Excitedly, I look out for the yearning
eyes of my parents, awaiting the return of their
children. I clear the customs and rush searchingly
to find my parents.
The sweet smile that our sight brings to my parents
is what makes me go back year after year. It is
the fondness of the servants who have served us
for years that makes me take a deep sigh of relief
and say, “Thank God, Abba I am home.”
Agreed that it takes a while for our eyes to adjust
to the dust, the dirt, the dug up roads and the
garbage but there is greater feeling that overwhelms
us and that is the feeling of belonging.
After the tragedy of the earthquake, my heart
is more in Pakistan than ever. I pray for the
perished and I pray harder for the survivors:
I dedicate this ode to my countrymen.
An Ode to the Victims of the Earthquake
Oh Allah, should I grieve for the
perished countrymen
For the void they left is profound
The scenes of their destruction
Are lessons that have me confound
How I need to grieve for them
Can I tell you how special my fellowmen were?
They were the flowers of our nation
Pure, simple and innocent
I pray to you oh Allah in prostration
To save the living from starvation
As I grieve for the dear ones
I look for strength from the martyrs of our nation
Hold fast and steady in adversity
Is the command of Allah
Nay t’is for me to be patient;
For I am in adversity
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