When I was a kid, about 8 or 9 years old. I had this crazy dream of marrying a british boy. I had a proper plan set. I would say to my mom and tell her, Look mama! If my uncle can marry a british woman and breed british children and have a perfect british life in a outlandish way, Why can’t I do the same and marry a a handsome charming young man in Britain. She would only laugh at me and so do the others. Then that dream grew louder and louder and I dreamt of going abroad. But for that I had to be fluent in English. Urdu was and Urdu is, still my mother tongue and would always be my comfortable speech in life. But for the british-romance-come-true chore, I had to master the foreign language for having a happy-marriage in future and for my dream’s sake. And also , because I was given the impression that I can fly over to England with my uncle – if – and only if I was a beauty with brains.
Innocent and obsessed – I began to work hard on making myself ‘Master of English Lingua’. I would sit down and read a complicated English grammar book. Then, when it wouldn’t speak to me clearly or give me any easy way to learn it, I would throw it away and watch a English movie instead. The movie was more effective I must say. I would listen to the actors with my ears all sticked to the sounds. They uttered fast. Fast and alien-ish. As if conspiracing against me. But I wasn’t ready to give up. I had sworn to do it right.
One day, my mother caught me standing in front of a mirror – talking!
I froze the instant I realized her presence. This was me. Shy and in-confident. And that is why I was never able to practice my English with real time persons face to face. My dressing mirror was the sole audience I had – which never pointed out any flaws.
Stage 2 of my obsession: lead me to keep a journal (I hate to call it a diary) of my English sentences. I would draw a ‘me’ in shalwar kameez. And then I would draw a ‘british person’ in — whatever it was , I don’t quite remember. But this much I know, the drawings weren’t useless. It was my comic style storyboard to practice English.
And then the other would reply, ‘Hi, How are you” and stuff.
I can’t believe I used to do this, But I did. I would show the journal to my family and pray in my heart that they see I’m trying hard, so pleaseeeeeee send me to England soon!
The Day never came.
And I grew Up.
My obsession with English ended. I didn’t dream of marrying a British boy anymore. In fact, I don’t even remember when that phase got over and I moved on with more high aims.
Sometimes it was buying a riding bicycle. Sometimes, a Computer , or the most horrifying aim (for my mother mainly) was becoming so fab in science so as to NASA would contact me itself and beg me to enter in NASA one day! The point is , I moved on.
We all think, we all set targets. Sometimes we achieved them , if we don’t we simply move on. That’s life. That’s what matters.
But what does it teach ? Should we just give up on our dreams or should we improvise…. give them a slighlty different shape and make them more achievable? Because I don’t see a reason why, we should stop striving for a dream. I mean it’s understandable I don’t feel the same enthusiasm about my british romance dream today, as I used to feel. I don’t want it now. But what about other stuff i aimed for ? Targets I set in my life , a place where I wanna fly and experience new things. What about them? I have a wish to travel some place. You may have the same dream or something similar. What should we both do about it if it’s not given a chance to come true?
No, ….we should not give up. Because giving up on your honest dream is like proving to others that you are a nobody! nothing but garbage. And hey! Stop doing that! You know you are something, because Allah, the Almighty God doesn’t make garbage.
On hopes and dreams I would never give up. So what If I applied to a Youth Exchange Program at a Palestinian University – hoping to fly there and help but I was stopped. They said and I quote:
Dear Pervisha Khan,
Thank you for your email, I am afraid you can not pass the borders to Palestine as the Israeli occupation controls it, the borders are mostly open to the European and American passports holders, unfortunately,
Depressing and annoying. But So what man! so what! On hopes and dreams…Its important to never let go. Because I really don’t know a way to stop hoping for a better tomorrow.