by Anjum Wasim Dar
Rawalpindi, Pakistan
I remember that evening when we went to see our new house. 24 Willoughby Road. I was the excited little child, running from room to room, all around the house. Outside, it was so spacious, so open, so adventurous. You could play hide and seek and hide so well that no one could find you for hours and you would be the WINNER. Two tall trees gave the pillaric grace to the front of the house!!!!
The kitchen was separate, probably the British never liked the Indian cooks to be close to the main house. The sweet culinary aroma would sail and drift and wander from a distance and increase the pleasure of the well served meals. It was the early time of Freedom….the 1950s and the town was Pindi. We called it Pindi, that’s what I remember…that’s what I heard my elders say.
Pindi and what a Pindi it was! Peaceful, clean, fresh, diplomatic with a serene grandeur, educational atmosphere and I mean educational, not an education bazaar. No mushrooms of schools but good proper schools. No rush of traffic. The tongas were grand too, with shining leather reins of the ribbon decorated horses, the loud clanging of the bell as it mixed with the rhythmical clippety clop of the strong Arab breed; and the faint smell of oil lamps at night made the ride so mystical and romantic. The roads were roads…neither tracks nor dug up paths, or unwalkable mazes.
Enjoyable were the cool cricket matches in the Club ground. We would walk up to the Supers for the Three-in-one Ice-cream or a hot cup of tea with shami kebabs during the innings breaks. Best of all were the classic movie shows in the Plaza, Odean and Ciros..Gone with the wind…Guns of Navarone, Spartacus, King of Kings , Ben Hur, Hercules, and who can forget the dashing Rock Hudson in Come September or Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mocking Bird. I can go on. There was Peace in the spirit and soul, as the real freedom could be felt, sensed, enjoyed and loved. The green flag made us proud of our new land. Such were my thoughts as I drove on Tulsa road honking at every one on a bicycle, lest he should swerve and crash into my KIA Classic. I was more concerned of the expected metallic dents rather than human injuries. Maybe I too have joined the masses in this respect. AH!.Economic recession !!
I was to pick up my teenage daughter from NUST headquarters where she had gone for an interview for admission to BBA. The time given was 10 a.m. it was now 2:30 p.m. Just then a strange greenish pink color flash caught my eye.
OH OH My GOD!! What's that? Another one with all those multi colors. Have we gone insane? Is this the way to celebrate freedom..no no..I mean is the meaning of Freedom….this..that one can change the design, color, shape, form and size of the national flag ? Calm down!!! Relax, this has been happening for so many years now. On every Independence day. Large sized flags on bamboo poles, dark green ones, light green ones, shades of emerald, foliage extravaganza…my heart sank as I drove by.
This year it will be the 54th Independence Anniversary. I took a deep breath and shifted the gear as I passed by the present landmarks. History quite visible in the Guns displayed as models on the Mall, the Army Museum and…well,well… as I neared the University building…the high grey walls of the Presentation Convent loomed dull silent and fortified. This is my alma mater…which gave me the love of learning…I cherish today, which I strive to create in my students. Here I feel I am not so successful…something terrible is missing!!! What is the reason of this mental inertia among the students? I turn round the corner…flashes of my teachers appeared…Respected Sister Francis, Sister Maliki Madam Saeeda , Madam Sultana, Miss Helen,….my thoughts were disturbed….where have all the teachers gone???
Where was the inspiring educational ethereal air which encompassed the town, lifted our souls to the beauty of education, made us dig into the leaves of knowledge, color, fancy and imagination, creating a multi sensorial ecstasy, the fairyland trips to the classrooms lightened with love respect and responsibility. Teachers dignified and mature and full of enthusiasm and encouragement….no heavy bags…just lovable books and lovely things to draw and write.
Yet Pindi shows glimpses of its old cantonment culture…er..perhaps …it’s the Army look that is more prominent now. Army is contributing a lot to the development of the country. Nothing much has changed on this road…though…..I was now drawing close to the NUST gates. Memories of 1960s appeared. Mr. Z A Bhutto in a black staff car, leaving the dark black gates, this was the Assembly Hall, one could see many ministers come and go,…er… but to and from the Hall,…Mr Bhutto was the foreign minister then
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I saw my daughter standing outside the gates. I drove on because there was no parking space. I hope the sanctity of the close by church is maintained. The Christmas tree looks so beautiful when it is put up.
Taking a turn from the Convent roundabout I brought the car to a halt.
“Are you free dear? How did it go?” My daughter, all flushed due to the afternoon heat, gave a weak smile. I knew all was well. Freedom to talk, answer, express your opinion. Freedom to smile, freedom to drive, freedom to have a lemon soda drink anytime of the day or late night, yes this was the real freedom, freedom to listen to music, watch movies, read books ...be it fact or fiction , computers or management, above all freedom to pray and be grateful to Allah for all His gifts. I thanked the Almighty when I got home safely.
The purple flowers bloomed proudly on the tree outside our house. How tall it has grown in the past years. Yes, this was our tree. We had planted it, nourished it, watered it, supported it in times of tenderness and cruel storms, trimmed it in times of development, and stood by it in times of pain and sorrow, welcomes and partings.
Changing seasons when all was bare, dry and hot; but hoped for spring, hoped for flowers, hoped for freshness and color and with it gave it the Freedom to be on its own ground and stand proud on its own roots and shine with the Glory of strength Grace and majesty today….Freedom is truly a Gift from Allah!!!
Anjum Wasim Dar
U S Legacies Magazine August 2003
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