Friday, May 20, 2011

I am the hope


I am what I could be and what I had to be in any case.

Standing in the Football ground of Karachi University for years like a fully grown and mature, shady tree, I had given to everyone whatever I had and I am still to ready to give whatever I have.

But, now I am getting old and this year my leaves fell very early autumn in the start of October. People stopped sitting under me because I was not able to give them a soothing shade anymore. All of my neighboring trees still had leaves which fell very late when winters finally arrived.

I was not hopeless, I believed I will get the leaves back once winters go away and spring arrives but my expectations were not fulfilled. January passed and February started, all of the neighboring trees were getting leaves back, the spring was arrived but I was still alone with no leaves and no color at all.

I satisfied myself; it happens, soon I will get my leaves back and will be green like I am always; and waited.

March arrived; no leaves at all.

Standing in middle of the other trees, with bare hands, bare palms, bare fingers I was like a useless, lifeless, and purposeless thing in the world. The neighboring trees advised me, not to be worry for the leaves and to claim myself old, but I was not ready to admit.

I said; I am hopeful, I am alive and life means hope; If I would have become old then why would have I lived then? Why I can still feel the fragrance of the fresh breeze that strike to my body and wants to stay in the thicky branches full of leaves? Why I can still feel the perfume of the unseen roses that live in the soul of my green leaves.

Why I haven't become senseless and lifeless if I am old.

All trees laughed; Oh oldman, you are not in your senses, keep dreaming for the leaves and make your life miserable in the eternal, and endless wait.

April arrived; everyday when I used to open my eyes, my hope was drowning in the profound darkness of the hopelessness but I didn't let other trees feel that.

I prayed; Oh Almighty, if I am old and can't give shade and colors to others then send the death to me but never leave me in this hopelessness for the rest of my life. I don't want to live a worthless life, Oh my Creator, give me back my dress or cut the pulse of my life, I don't want to live an undressed, bare handed life.

April passed; and I was about to lose my hope.

Then in the middle of the April, when one day I woke up in the morning; I looked a leaflet was born on my shoot branch. It was so tiny, yellow in color but it gave me my hope back and I believed I am still worthy to live what is called life.

Now its May; and I am loaded with thick bunches of leaves, tiny flower buds. I am not bare handed now, I have got back the jewelery of mine.

People come and stay, they love my shade. I give them peace when they walk from the silver jubilee gate towards Azadi chowk and burning sunlight burns them, they sit under my shade, rest for few minutes and then move forward towards their destinies, I am nothing for them as they perhaps wouldn't feel my importance but I don't care.

I am happy that at least I am not useless and purposeless.

All trees are surprised, they didn't believe my leaves appeared in the end of the April and they are now fully grown in May; they need to be surprised because they don't know the power of hope and belief.

Nobody knows; I am the hope of life.

Note: The picture was taken in March. Now in May the same tree has countless leaves on it.

23 comments:

  1. if all of us plant atleast one tree in our lives the world would be a different place !

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  2. Yes, very rightly said, Bilal. And thanks for reading and commenting.

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  3. Lovely plot, lovely description and lovely message, this is called positive writing, writings that makes real difference in our lives, writings that give us a glance ahead and writings that make us comfortable with ourselves.

    I was thinking all the time while reading that I was the tree and thought what my response to life would be, in these circumstances and thought, if I was laid barren by a season of drought that made me flowerless and leafless what I would do in that wilderness. I thought and look down at my stem and noticed that creatures crawling on ground came and were moving upward using my structure and they climbed up to the top branches. This one thing only was enough for me to get satisfied that I am useful and making a contribution in elevating other life.

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  4. Sir Akhtar, thank you for liking the post and thanks for enhancing the beauty of my post with such a beautiful insight.

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  5. Komal, thanks and I think you remember the tree and the Football ground. Our lot of memories are attached with them.

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  6. hmm....Dear Urooj...this is beautiful...simply best..

    I must say....you have perfected your writing skills. I am impressed.

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  7. Thinking, thank you for reading, liking and appreciating.

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  8. Very interesting indeed,your observation is great which makes you a good writer. Keep it up.

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  9. Of course I remember Urooj! How can I forget those days? We used to sit under this tree and read Iqbal poems, you remember..? we shared many things, our sorrows, our happiness.. :)
    I can never forget..

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  10. Peerless, thank you for reading and liking the post.

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  11. Komal, yes it's true. That was a memorable time of our life, that we spent in such a way sharing many things under the shady trees.

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  13. Hmmm :) I am studying in Karachi university and In intense moments of May last year I wrote my first poem under the tree you are talking about :) .....I really liked the way and the ease with which you expressed all these feelings. Heart warming! yet true.

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  14. Zau fishan, thank you for reading and liking the post.

    I am glad that you know the tree and it has some connections with your memories. So, would you like to share that poem with us?

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  15. Great... latest pic of this tree?? :s

    I wanted to see how beautiful does it look like after winning...

    Does KU allow outsiders? :p

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  16. rIZ, thank you for reading and liking. I could not take its recent picture, sorry for that.

    But, yes it looks very beautiful after winning.

    KU allows outsiders but not......Jheengey :p

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  17. "This one thing only was enough for me to get satisfied that I am useful and making a contribution in elevating other life." what a lovely and immediate result from Dar Sahib...

    See what results your gift of writing brings, dear Urooj!

    I too loved the post and am encouraged once again to step beyond my usual topics and knowledge...

    So I want to write about Hajar or Hajara (Hagar in my tradition.) In your understanding, Urooj, Thinking, Dar Sahib and any others, did Hajara build her own well? Do you believe the same still offers it's gifts at Mecca? What does the Hagar story say to you about eternally offering of life, hope and the gifts of nature - like Urooj' tree? And also about how dependence on both Allah and Self can benefit beyond all senses and even imagining.

    After your insights I'd love to do a post on this topic.

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  18. Some of you also may have some insights into Keturah, the third wife of Abraham?

    Sorry to be so behind on all the other blogsites, hope to return soon.

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  19. Connie, thank you for coming and making a contribution in the comments.

    I would be glad if any other like Sir Akhtar or Thinking, comment and answer what you have asked. I think I have not enough knowledge to tell you something what you are looking for.

    And, yes if you write such a post, it would be a gift to read.

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  20. hmmm....Dear Urooj...thanks for giving me the opportunity to explain about Keturah...

    In Hebrew - Bible...the Keturah was the second wife of Abraham...and the mother of his frist son...Ishmael

    In Islam...Keturah as Hazrat Hajra(in Urdu)...or Hagar....(in English)

    Since...Abraham's didn't get any child from his first wife Sarah...Sarah herself asked him to marry her slave girl...Keturah...Hajra...

    When Isaac was born to Sarah (Sarai), the relationship between Hajra and her mistress had come to a climax. Sarah got upset to see her son and Ishmael playing togehter where in teenage mockery Ishmael was mocking her son.

    She was so upset by it that she demanded from her husband, who was now referred to as Abraham, to send Hajra and her son away.

    Early the next morning, Abraham brought Hajra and Ishmael out together.

    Abraham gave Hajra bread and water for a journey into the wilderness of Beersheba.

    She and her son wandered aimlessly until the bottle of water was completely consumed.

    In a moment of despair, she burst in tears...panicked and ran between two nearby hills...Al-Safa and Al-Marwah repeatedly in search for water.

    After her seventh run, Ishmael hitting the ground with his heel and causing a miraculous well to spring out of the ground. This is called Zamzam Well.

    Neither Sarah nor Hajra are mentioned by name in the Qur'an, but the story is traditionally understood to be referred to in a line from Abraham's prayer in Sura Ibrahim (14:37):

    "I have settled some of my family in a barren valley near your Sacred House".

    While Hajra is not named, the reader lives Hajra's predicament indirectly through the eyes of Abraham. She is also frequently mentioned in the books of hadiths.

    hmm...I hope it clarifies yours and Connie 's cocern.

    Thanks !

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  21. hmm....please be noted that I am not aware of third wife of Abraham...

    Never heard of it.

    I always try to concentrate on Hajra's life and the difficulties she endoorsed with...

    ...the tradition with this name carry itself from generations to generations...and one with the same name would have to less or more suffer the same tradition...

    hmm...I don't call it suffering...Hajra found the ZamZam enough to give people hope and surety that Allah is there to help the needy and sufferers....

    But...one day...all the women of the same name will have to run between the two hard rock mountains to provoke the Almighty to again start the well...to relief the thrust...and that thrust will break down those women with the name of Hajra..

    And I am waiting...and afraid and scared...because I know...one day I will have to run along too...between the two hard mountains...I dont even know what those two mountains would be...metaphorically I termed them as mountains...to find my own identity...to search the life...and what scared me to death is that...I don't have the courage.

    hmm....

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  22. Thinking, thank you for this brief and well explained description and I think Connie would be glad to read this as well.

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