Many years ago, unaware of real life yet believing in the depth of truth and principle, I jotted some thoughts on paper. Well, on the computer. In my own way I tried to make them represent my principles, my devotion and my patriotism for Pakistan. But if I were to read them now, I would find the words cute, perhaps endearing, but nothing exceptional. 

Yet there was someone who gave it more than a passing thought. Someone who was a distant figure who wrote about press freedom in Pakistan, and was the only book available in the library to complete a report I had planned. He took time out to notice a teeny tiny article hidden somewhere in the folds of the paper. Not only to read, nod, and smile at, but also to call the newspaper and ask to speak to the young girl who had written the idealistic lines. It was a moment remembered many moments later, to make many other moments special. He felt good to know such thoughts existed in the new generation. I confirmed with him whether it was ok to be idealistic because people called me and my friends mad for thinking this way. He said, its the mad mad mad people of this world who are keeping it going. And that was good. That defined ‘encouragement’ to me. I remember it still. I will appreciate it forever.

Many years later,  I came across Mr Niazi’s son, unexpectedly realizing his connection. I shared the moment with him. It was like passing on the feeling, the thanks, the idealism. He didnt say anything, but I know he received the knowledge. The next day he gave me  ”Fettered Freedom” by Zamir Niazi, silently. And when I last night picked up the book, I realized how the tradition of care and the spirit of encouragement had been firmly preserved.

By writing tonight perhaps I once again pass it on…