Sarhad - Love From The Other Side Of Border

Chapter 2.

"Mujh main bahot si kamiya hai, aur un main se kuch to shayad kabhi main change bhi nai karva paungi. Par main chahti hoon k apna nazariya to kamse kam badal saku. Main apne Abba ki tarah aur baki logon ki tarah bas ek mind set k saath jeena nahi chahti. A person should be open to every other person's point of view. We can be right but that doesn't mean we should force our decisions, culture, lifestyle on others. World would be at peace if people would put themselves in others' shoes and see things through their eyes."

I was blocked out after that. I shuffled in my seat uncomfortably and reached for my bag. No it wasn't there. of course, it wasn't. It was being read on the stage. My diary was someone's assignment. The blood boiled in my veins as I tried to control myself. I went through the pages I had written in my mind. It was not my personal diary. It was my thoughts on my surroundings; the current events. My views on everything that happened and I found worth expressing. No not a single secret had been poured. I eased a little and then again got tensed. Someone had stolen it and using it to get good grades. Samira glanced at me. I suppressed my lips.

Two months had passed since the term had started. I was enjoying every bit of it. The university had vast student population varying from different culture and all had their place in here. I had found mine too and soon untangled myself from my father's grip i.e. staying at his second cousin's home. I had made a few friends with whom I moved at the end of second week and settled myself in completely new home. It was a new experience. At home, there were servants to do things, mother to look after me and father to manage my money issues. Now, I was on my own. I had to do all the chores and study too. In starting, I had no idea how would I do it; but now with the help of friends, I had learned it. I was considering to look for a part time job now.

In here, the professors not only went with the syllabus, but tried to include little details which might help us in future. So, one of them gave us a project: In his shoes. We had to choose any human being and had to show the class the world through his eyes; what world meant to him; what thoughts run when something unbearable happened; how he reacted if the consequences arose. It was an easy one, I thought and choose my Daada, my grandfather. I had some of his letters that he wrote to his friends and which I never read. It was just a proud possession, a collectible and an inheritance. We were given two weeks'time and as I went through it, I realized what the professor meant. I developed a whole new notion when I read his letters. My grandfather lived in an era I wouldn't have dreamed of. A time when Pakistan was born and riots took place. He saw it all from, the beginning and he had his own idealism. I could see a whole new person - young and honest. Needless to say my presentation went well and I was appraised.

But now when the last guy was giving his presentation, I was not sure what to make of it. I did not hear much after that. Later, Samira informed that he presented me quite well. All I thought while sitting there was when and where I had lost my diary and how on the earth he could have it. When the class dismissed, I leapt up from my seat.

"I will meet you at our regular." I quickly said to Samira whose question hanged in the air as I made my way to the guy.

He was walking away when I called.

"Hey!"

Few people glanced but not the person I wanted. Of course, I had to be more specific.

"Hey! White T-shirt, black hat, journalism guy!"