Once upon a time in a land far far away, a stranger got lost amidst the snow caped mountains and exotic waterfalls. On his trek to find his way out, he entered a small village of dwarfs. He found a small little house at one far end and walked till there. The stranger shyly knocked the door.
A dwarf man came out and the stranger introduced himself and explained that he lost his way till here. The man instantly invited him in and prepared to a cup of hot tea to combat the bone-chilling cold outside. The man insisted that the stranger stay the night in the village and asked him if the stranger would like to accompany him to what he called the ‘villager’s congress’. The stranger was touched by the hospitality, and very humbly agreed.
The whole village had gathered in there. The old, young, sick – all of them. An old man stood up and began with a prayer. He then started gibberish which the stranger could hardly figure out. All of a sudden there were disputes and disagreements all around. Nobody was willing to listen to anybody; it was as if they were in a battle with themselves. It was chaos. It was turmoil. The stranger silently sat in a corner and just witnessed the anger, the frustration and the raging disagreements. He had started to doubt even if this small kingdom of dwarfs would ever last midst this flouting conflict.
What happened next, the stranger will never forget.
A young dwarf wearing a turtle shell tied with bamboo ropes came running in and interrupted the session. After catching his breath, he announced that a battalion of archers has attacked the small village. All of a sudden the disputes evaporated, the frustration vanished and the anger was redirected. The young were already on their feet to get their weapons. The old all huddled together and in harmony were designing a strategy. The kids, as if were already prepared, were taking the sick to the nearby houses. The stranger silently accompanied them too. As soon as he reached the nearest house, the women were rushing in grabbing the turtle shells and were tying the bamboo ropes to them. They all seemed prepared and well fitted for their tasks.
There was a unique music of passion in the air, none that the stranger has heard before! In the face of calamity, they were all one! It was a tough night for the villagers, but they survived it together. They passionately said they always have, and they always will – for their village, for their villagers.
The next day, the stranger thanked them all and left the village forever. Those small men indeed had taught the stranger a big lesson for life – to hold on. They taught him to hold on to hope and to hold on to one another beyond the air of disputes. He had seen the true colors of ‘unity, faith and discipline’ in those villagers. He smiled to himself on his way out. He knew that there is no force on this face of earth that can ever undo that village.
Dear Pakistan, have faith! I know in the midst where my countryman is fighting himself, we make it a little too shaky to make you believe in us. Just hold on to us. Be aware that we won’t let you down – ever. We have our blistering conflicts, we have our searing disputes, but we will never let them come in the way to hold us from guarding your honor. Together as a nation I know we will fight for you till the last breathe, till the last streak of sweat, and till the very last drop of blood left in us.
Don’t worry bro, we got your back! Happy defense day Pakistan. As I say, just hold on to us for a while.