‘Endure, my heart’

WE recently faced internet interruptions and wondered about the cause. Unsurprisi­ngly, the larger the problem, the harder it is to promptly find the cause here. Eventually, we learned it was a problem in the submarine cable. Could a tiny black fish have sliced it? Oh well! Her cheap thrills, our tangled ills.
What that little fish did sent ripples far and wide. Many businesses took a hit, and productivity plunged. The effect was anything but favourable for those striving to better their family’s livelihood.
I have a dream. I wish we had a little fish that could work with the same precision, but instead of causing trouble, would solve our problems. A dream that stretches too far, I know.
When the news broke about the cause of our internet troubles, another troubling story caught my attention on Dawn TV’s Zara Hut Kay, featuring Nousheen Zaidi’s analysis of water pollution in various parts of the country. The researcher’s water samples from different areas in Lahore revealed poor water quality, harming the health of children, women, and men. When asked if any city in Pakistan could boast clean tap water, the researcher, while acknowledging the absence of large-scale studies, sugges­ted there may be no such place. A nuc­lear arsenal, institutions fed with billions, and scores of men hungry for power in their citadels, yet no clean water. Tragedy or farce, I can’t decide. But heartbreak? For sure.
Bit by bit, we shrink the size of our dreams for this country. I once hoped for justice for all, world-class education, and healthcare. Now, all I hope for is that, in my lifetime, my children can drink safe water at home. Good and inexpensive education and healthcare are now a distant dream. One wonders whether we’ll ever see the day when we no longer have to console ourselves with the Homeric plea, ‘‘Endure, my heart”?
An Iranian teacher, critic, and writer na­­m­­ed Sarmad Behrangi wrote a popular sto­ry called The Little Black Fish. It tells the tale of a small black fish living in a secluded stream alongside others who are content with their simple, quiet lives. But the little black fish is filled with curiosity, eager to explore the world beyond the stream, and has an irresistible urge to find the answer to a burning question: ‘Where does the stream go?’
The little fish faces plenty of resistance from family, all urging it to abandon the idea of venturing out. But nothing could quench the little fish’s desire to explore. Eventually, it sets out on its journey. Along the way, the little fish meets various creatures, most of whom are discouraging. Some play the role of authoritarian figures and societal gatekeepers, trying to frighten the fish with warnings of danger and dismissing its questions about the world. But the little fish remains unwavering in its resolve.
Some creatures, however, offer help and encouragement, showing that there are those who support and nurture curiosity. The final challenge the little fish faces is a bird that seeks to crush freedom and curiosity. The little fish is left with a choice: either submit to its power or sacrifice its life for freedom and justice. In the end, the little fish chooses to give its life.
The little fish led a remarkable life. It challenged dogmas, searched for truth, and became a symbol of intellectual freedom. Every other fish that stayed behind in the stream accepted their circumstances without question — and left no legacy. They are forgotten. But the little black fish, with its defiance, questioned the norms, embraced forward-thinking ideas, and left a lasting mark.
Yesterday, there were a few among us who, like the little black fish, sought truth and intellect­ual freedom. To­­day, there are more. And tomorrow, there will be many.
Many parents want their children to ask hard questions, push boundaries, and not fear the consequences of their curiosity. Hand on your heart — would you honestly tell your child to speak their mind in this country? Words, as Shakespeare said, should not be daggers to our ears.
No nation has ever risen without giving the courage to its citizens to speak openly. The path to progress is paved not with silence. We must give our people the strength and the assurance that their voices matter — that they can challenge, question, and declare, even when their words make us uncomfortable. Nay, precisely when their words make us uncomfortable, when they shake the ground we stand on, when they pierce the veils of our illusions, then we should know we must listen and not attack.
The day a person in this country can stand firm on one side holding an opinion that differs from the entire nation standing on the other side, without fear of being silenced or fear of his or her life, will be the day that will mark our path to progress.
The writer is an author and entrepreneur.
www.wyounas.com
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Published in Dawn, November 5th, 2024