Speaking of Pakistani streets, the very first thought that comes in mind is terror. The media has eclipsed the image of this third world country so drastically that the civilians are looked down upon intentionally internationally. But beyond what covers the very little, segregated part of the country filled with such terror, the seamless freedom and comfort of culture is, in fact, a beautiful home to majority.
Born and raised in Pakistan, I have learned to live by the ways which norms offered me. Growing up as a kid, I played in streets for so many hours and never felt even a glint of unease. It was very similar to what kids do around the world. But as I blossomed into a young woman, I could feel the wide arms of culture overlapping my body and skills. There was always another sheet to cover my skin until nothing could be viewed of my body. There was always a hand pointing finger at my brilliantly creative ideas. Gradually doors to streets were closed. Hence I learned to push. Pushing the doors of my home so I could see the streets again. Perhaps this time, I was bigger in stature, curvy and as they say a woman. The difference was dejecting.
I could feel the fire.
They looked at me as I was an alien or maybe a prophet claiming the world. In fact, I was leading a prophesy. The fire that lit the streets of my country wasn’t of terror but of degrading talent and demoralizing the sense of equality. I pushed away all the pointing fingers and expressed the thoughts passionately. It was not easy. It isn’t. But women like me, are pushing further all the boundaries every hour of the day for sake of freedom and equality. It is not just a struggle for women but of all the fathers, husbands, brothers and sons to purge the fire from streets.
Be thankful for what grounds you have and never stop pushing further for improvements in the environment that surrounds you.