There is a verse from our national poet's poem:
"...Alphaz wo Ma'ani main tafawat naheen laikin
Mullah ki Azan aur, Mujahid ki Azan aur..."
I've been to Masjid-Al-Haram twice Allhamdollilah, nothing in the world could emulate that experience. Otherwise, if I have had goose-bumps in my life, it's at this battlefield; after staying for app a week with our mujahid soldiers here in Minimarg. I took my kids to this battle-field (Line of Control) to practically see the other side of the Green-Passport's story i.e. what our mujahid soldiers are going through to secure it.
My '5' years old saw a soldier outside our room and insisted to gift Him a cake as a gesture of thanks for securing our flag. The soldier bent his knees to receive the gift with affection and tears (metaphoric tears). It must have reminded him of his own children, since these soldiers work for 9 straight months to secure our borders. In my opinion, while they leave their homes, they hug their kids and family members as they may not see them again.
As I entered Minimarg, some soldiers were un-boarding their jeeps (came back from their homes). I exchanged words with one married soldier, he's been married for couple of years, he had one daughter, he works for 7 straight months at our borders, and spends the 8th month with His family. They have left their homes, they live in a place where basic need as in Oxygen is barely available, the only light they see is of the sun, no proper place to cover them from snow at -30 degrees Celsius.
After tea at Domail (35 km from Kargil), the waiter brought change after I paid the dues. I left some money from the change in the plate to appreciate the courteous service. The waiter took the plates, and moments later there was a knock on the transparent (glass) door. After I said "Yes...!", the waiter apologetically: "...sorry sir ap ke paisay reh gaye they plate main..." (sorry sir... took your remaining money with the plate by mistake). These waiters are Army men, whom are disciplined to the roots.
Looking back at our nation, ask a person whom their hero is, and I am sure 90% of us will name our enemies (Bollywood stars) as their heroes. What shall I say about 'a' nation whom have chosen their heroes from their enemies while their own nation is fraught with selfless heroes.
Next was Gupis (pronounced as Go-Paiz/ Gopaiz), the morning I woke up to an out of this world breeze at app 21'Celsius, the nearby orchid was our breakfast room. The pleasant breeze from the nearby waterfall brought along fragrance of the ripe fruits from the nearby trees, and lavender. The birds were chirping, and the river was roaring, the best detox for the mind. It reminded me of my childhood, how we used to have breakfast with grandparents in our village's yard (Umarzai Charsadda) where birds chirped, and the environment had a plethora of fragrance from the fruits in the trees.
The plan was to touch Langer, and Phander that day, on our way back from Langer, bought some apriots from a boy standing on a roadside. I stopped to give the apricots a bath in the waterfall, a young man from the nearby house came down. When he saw the fruit, he nodded His head with a sigh "...bad quality fruit...". He started shouting to someone at His house, and within no time he climbed the tree in his yard. He came back with a bag full of fruit and said "... 'A' quality of fruit..." I asked how much the damage (cost) was, and He replied with a smile "...gifts never cost anything..." The type of Pakistanis we read in a half century old books.
The next day's destination was Hunza, it drizzled on our way, and the mercury throughout was stagnant at 21'Celsius. When reached Hunza, to us it seemed more of Murree with stampede of visitors. Hunza was famous for it's serenity, and calmness. Our destination was revised to a place where the total populace was no more than 100 people in at least 20 square kilometers. There was a huge glacier right behind our motel, so the morning breeze we woke up to that morning can't be mentioned in words.
The Hunzaian marriages are simple, the brides are married while in teen, hence, lesser dent, protein, and paint job required on their faces, unlike the urban brides, where the poor denter (parlor-girl) has to use heavy machinery on the aged dents with strong white paint (no offense, it's a joke). Absolute no dowry/ jahaiz, rather the groom's side gifts house related stuff. The living is very easy, i.e. no utility bills, no superficial livelihood related items. They eat organic vegetables, organic fruit, organic milk, and drink water from the mineral-rich springs, that's why their smiles, and minds are soo organic.
I work full-time as a father, husband, brother, and a Program manager in a software company Allhamdollilah, with two part time jobs (non-profit). First part-time job: at our village we promote livelihood, educate, and up-bring our farmers' kids with true patriotic, and sacred values. Second one is to travel around the country, explore and promote what Allah(SWT)'s blessings on this nation is.
Minimarg
