The Twilight Road
By Azfarul Islam
Thirty-five years.
It’s only a small phrase yet it’s quite a long time to live through – and especially if you yourself haven’t reached that age, it’s easier to appreciate the magnitude of such a figure…
Everyone probably knows what I’m talking about. If you don’t, then shame on you. The 26th of March is upon us. On this momentous day, thirty-five years ago, we established sovereignty – we became a free nation of our own.
It was freedom from the tyranny of Pakistani rule. It was freedom from those who wished to subjugate and dominate. It was freedom from a life of a fear.
In perspective, after 35 years, what has it become a freedom to?
A failing Government needs a puppet terrorist organisation to assert itself as a leader we should put our faith in. The reputations of two groups are built up over years – one through fear and one through notoriety.
Pebbles are thrown into the pond and the ripples reverberate throughout, ruining the balance and tranquillity – the fish are oblivious to world beyond the surface and their hatred, if they feel it, is directed at the unsightly stones that mar their otherwise peaceful lives.
The white pawns are sent into battle, dying so that the King remains unharmed. The black pieces ravage the pawns with little thought. The white army appears to be in disarray until the white Queen and her Knights, Bishops and Rooks are sent into the fray. The black pieces are cut down. The despised black King and Queen seem demoralised and offer little in the way of a fight. The battle ends with their cold, calculated destruction and the surviving pawns celebrate. The black pieces deserved what they got for all the terror they wrought. The King is a true hero.
If only the pieces knew that the game was being played by one person – the same person who enjoyed throwing stones into the pond.
We live in this game where a battle of egos and supremacy rages on at all fronts – from the highest to the most base of levels.
A man wishes to express his ideals and his thoughts – such an activity is duly encouraged. After all, they all shout out to the world that we would be nothing without the right of free expression, right? Of course, they agree that limits must be observed for the sake of protocol and respect. What is being expressed may infringe into the ‘ethics’ of others, but that isn’t an issue if it is a ‘freedom’, right? The man will gladly go up to the podium and smile and wave at the awaiting crowd. He will then bow and step down. Maybe there’s no real need to say all that, he thinks. After all, he’s quite sure they all know. No need to repeat something that everyone already knows, right? There’s no need for him to force his personal ethics upon others. Infact, as far he’s concerned, his ideas are actually quite biased. As far as he knows, the people might disagree completely with him – that in itself is the freedom of their expression right? It makes no sense to go through such trouble, after all. It might even be in the best of interests of himself and others that he not bother to step up to the podium again.
Embracing a single day out of hundreds to celebrate and offer our respects to the ghosts and dreams of history. Spending the rest of our days in activities that undermine the true worth of a freedom fought for in blood and tears. Spending that single day revelling in an emotion that becomes terrestrial for that day and alien the next. What a farcical and pretentious beast patriotism is here!
A nation cannot bring itself up to stand head and shoulders with others if it travels in a straight line. From that point in 1971, it had to travel a curved path. A path that lead up and towards the stars. Such beautiful hopes and dreams they must have had back then. They should be happy that such a dream was realised! The curved path was traversed higher and higher. The path kept curving further. It finally curved back and is now curving into itself – it’s almost a full circle. Are returning to the very point we aimed to get as far away as possible from?
In the most cliché of definitions, light and dark must coexist in order to maintain harmony. We like to believe that we began that journey on the twilight road, on the 26th of March, 1971. We traverse that same twilight path into not the dawn but the night that is the 26th of March, 2006.
While it’s been too long, it’s never too late. On this the 35th anniversary of our freedom, it’s not too late to remember what this day stands for. Then it is imperative to hold on the same thoughts, the same feeling for the other three-hundred and sixty-four days. I myself am far from patriotic – my only thoughts about the 26th of March usually involve wondering if it will fall on a weekday so that I can enjoy a day off from school. At the same time, I truly appreciate and respect the sacrifice that so many made for a future that was uncertain at the time. If you want to honour those brave men and women, then don’t just be patriotic – mean it. Every single day. Like those before us, stop looking at the now and stare on past the horizon to a brighter future.
Maybe then, we may be able to embrace the glorious light of daybreak.
It’s only a small phrase yet it’s quite a long time to live through – and especially if you yourself haven’t reached that age, it’s easier to appreciate the magnitude of such a figure…
Everyone probably knows what I’m talking about. If you don’t, then shame on you. The 26th of March is upon us. On this momentous day, thirty-five years ago, we established sovereignty – we became a free nation of our own.
It was freedom from the tyranny of Pakistani rule. It was freedom from those who wished to subjugate and dominate. It was freedom from a life of a fear.
In perspective, after 35 years, what has it become a freedom to?
A failing Government needs a puppet terrorist organisation to assert itself as a leader we should put our faith in. The reputations of two groups are built up over years – one through fear and one through notoriety.
Pebbles are thrown into the pond and the ripples reverberate throughout, ruining the balance and tranquillity – the fish are oblivious to world beyond the surface and their hatred, if they feel it, is directed at the unsightly stones that mar their otherwise peaceful lives.
The white pawns are sent into battle, dying so that the King remains unharmed. The black pieces ravage the pawns with little thought. The white army appears to be in disarray until the white Queen and her Knights, Bishops and Rooks are sent into the fray. The black pieces are cut down. The despised black King and Queen seem demoralised and offer little in the way of a fight. The battle ends with their cold, calculated destruction and the surviving pawns celebrate. The black pieces deserved what they got for all the terror they wrought. The King is a true hero.
If only the pieces knew that the game was being played by one person – the same person who enjoyed throwing stones into the pond.
We live in this game where a battle of egos and supremacy rages on at all fronts – from the highest to the most base of levels.
A man wishes to express his ideals and his thoughts – such an activity is duly encouraged. After all, they all shout out to the world that we would be nothing without the right of free expression, right? Of course, they agree that limits must be observed for the sake of protocol and respect. What is being expressed may infringe into the ‘ethics’ of others, but that isn’t an issue if it is a ‘freedom’, right? The man will gladly go up to the podium and smile and wave at the awaiting crowd. He will then bow and step down. Maybe there’s no real need to say all that, he thinks. After all, he’s quite sure they all know. No need to repeat something that everyone already knows, right? There’s no need for him to force his personal ethics upon others. Infact, as far he’s concerned, his ideas are actually quite biased. As far as he knows, the people might disagree completely with him – that in itself is the freedom of their expression right? It makes no sense to go through such trouble, after all. It might even be in the best of interests of himself and others that he not bother to step up to the podium again.
Embracing a single day out of hundreds to celebrate and offer our respects to the ghosts and dreams of history. Spending the rest of our days in activities that undermine the true worth of a freedom fought for in blood and tears. Spending that single day revelling in an emotion that becomes terrestrial for that day and alien the next. What a farcical and pretentious beast patriotism is here!
A nation cannot bring itself up to stand head and shoulders with others if it travels in a straight line. From that point in 1971, it had to travel a curved path. A path that lead up and towards the stars. Such beautiful hopes and dreams they must have had back then. They should be happy that such a dream was realised! The curved path was traversed higher and higher. The path kept curving further. It finally curved back and is now curving into itself – it’s almost a full circle. Are returning to the very point we aimed to get as far away as possible from?
In the most cliché of definitions, light and dark must coexist in order to maintain harmony. We like to believe that we began that journey on the twilight road, on the 26th of March, 1971. We traverse that same twilight path into not the dawn but the night that is the 26th of March, 2006.
While it’s been too long, it’s never too late. On this the 35th anniversary of our freedom, it’s not too late to remember what this day stands for. Then it is imperative to hold on the same thoughts, the same feeling for the other three-hundred and sixty-four days. I myself am far from patriotic – my only thoughts about the 26th of March usually involve wondering if it will fall on a weekday so that I can enjoy a day off from school. At the same time, I truly appreciate and respect the sacrifice that so many made for a future that was uncertain at the time. If you want to honour those brave men and women, then don’t just be patriotic – mean it. Every single day. Like those before us, stop looking at the now and stare on past the horizon to a brighter future.
Maybe then, we may be able to embrace the glorious light of daybreak.
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