Intellesctuals Corner

By Nisma Chauhan.....

Little things matter – a tale of an overseas Pakistani

People usually think I whine a lot about Pakistan and the situation surrounding the country. Ignore the good and only write about the ill-happenings.

To a certain extent I might just agree to their statement but the little period of time I have been able to spend in this country of mine, I have encountered a ‘zillion’ things which makes me frustrated, makes me wants to throw a tantrum and run away.

We have all heard of the cliché that ‘little things matter’ and these little things are the ones which are being mishandled in this beautiful land of mine.

Note: I have been using ‘mine’ to make people realize that no matter how much I would write about the negatives, I would always be connected to it, simply because this is where I belong and this is where I want to be.

Well recently I travelled back to my middle-eastern country. I had to take off from university and make a visit due to some personal commitments. Since this was my first time ever travelling alone I was a little nervous.

I have been the pampered child in the family, so the thought of doing everything on my own made me tensed. For a while, all I kept thinking was ‘what if I get into another plane and land in some other alien country’ (I know that would have never happened but it was hard convincing my heart for it).

Anyway, the time came and I was all by myself at the airport. My luggage was just one bag but heavy enough for a single average built individual to carry. Hence, at every conveyer belt I politely asked the security staff to lift it up for me. BUT to my astonishment they refused. I mean seriously refused ‘mein nahi karsakta baji!’

So I had to spot for a gentleman and ask for their assistance.

In my mind I had already started cursing them and thought of the ‘whys’.

Why would the security guard not help a young girl with her luggage? Why are they so inhumane to bluntly refuse even without apologizing? Maybe they could have reasoned themselves or perhaps asked someone else to do it?

With all this in mind, I landed at the Muscat International Airport (I repeat Muscat not Muskan). Since the flight only takes about 50 minutes from Karachi to Muscat, the process of thinking remained. I assumed to be getting the same treatment from the security staff at Muscat too.

This time I didn’t bother asking any one but struggled myself with the luggage. Before I could manage to put it on the belt, a tall fair man, dressed in a qandoora (the Arab wear) gently took away the bag and put it on the belt and even off the belt. I smiled at him with relief and happiness and he smiled back and went on with his work.

Right there I realized why I loved this place, why I felt home arriving at its land. Why every time the thought of arriving here brought smile to my face and unfortunately also why Pakistan being home was still far away from it.

I still don’t understand, what in the world would have gone wrong if the security staff at my native land just had helped me with the luggage or any other young/old/sick individual.

I don’t know what it could have done to him, but to me, it injected a negative impression of my country. It made me think of another country’s men better than mine. It made me praise someone else than my own people.

Ever thought of it this way, if I was a foreigner visiting Pakistan alone, what image would I have had taken back home of the people of Pakistan?

‘Because little things matter and they always will.’