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datarevived · 4 years

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-- Ⅳ : ᴢᴀᴠᴀʟᴀ

The feeling of the sun was warm today. Its' rays not too hot nor blistering; while being caressed by the gentle tones of the wind that brought in a cooling kiss upon ones' skin. The welcoming of a new day rests upon the horizon, its' luminescence peering through the vented windows of the building she called a home. Today was the day she'd stop sneaking around and hiding. Today was the day she'd make a decision.

The dull twilight of ones' skin twinkled in the soft sunlight of the room as she stretched herself awake to a new day. Body having sprawled against the mattress on the floor, as sheets seem to have tangled her lower legs in a midnight fret, causing a temporary distress solved by none other than viciously kicking until the cotton fell from her feet. A yawn -- or was it a groan? as she tumbles upon her side, lazy arm flung over her face as she debated greeting back the morning with tiresome gaze.

In the back of her mind, she'd blame the mattress being on the floor, that she should have stacked more blankets to make do for the lack of comfort. But in reality, it was a tiresome mind, too loud to cut off and too persistent to sleep peacefully. Numerous questions and scenarios that had rot through her head during the night -- her purpose, and what she now stood for among the people. What this power in her chest stood for and who granted it -- for what reason, why her -- she'd fail to get the answers she wanted; and so she'd try to get the answers she could, today.

A familiar whirl chimes in the air -- mechanical tick hovering over lifeless body as it queued an audible ' hum '. A single blink of ones' optic as if to consider the following, before its' voice cracked the air in such sharpness against the silence.

" Do you plan to stay in bed all day? " the light asked.

A rhetorical answer -- the Awoken lets out another groan, the tips of her fingers flexing in consideration before rolling onto her stomach and shoving her face further into the pillow. Arms cross over her head, her backside seeming to rise and fall with each breath. Already, the stress of being unreasonable and responsibility was weighing on her social meter.

" It's not healthy, you know. Even as a Guardian, you still have to take care of yourself. "

And her companion-for-life was not helping.

" Ihm ghttin' hmp. "

" ...Ah, what? "

" Ihm' ge'ttin' upppp, " the translation whines, pinched between pillow and cheek as Selene turns her head just briefly enough to inhale clean air and understandable vocals. A pause in her movements before getting committed, the woman then putting her hands at the sides of her head and pushing upward in a mean cat stretch, a few bones in her shoulder popping the excess air between joints as she did so. It was a satisfying yet dreadful feeling -- bringing her knees beneath her core and sitting on her feet, raising arms to the ceiling as she tugged each shoulder once at the opposing side before pushing her chest outward in another stretch following ' pop '.

A worn expression written across her face, certainly not the one of a full nights' rest but it would have to do. Dulled irises take point around the room, surveying the box-esq environment that had been gifted to her from Hawthorne before looking up upon her Ghost, its' shell hovering in plain sight. A half frown in return to its' original statement, that she'd rather much stay in the damp coolness of her room than go out another day avoiding Ikora's eye contact.

" Are you always like this? "

" Like what? " the Ghost blinked.

" Like... this, " she flips a wrist, motioning to nothing in particular as she comments, " You know, around. Just kinda... floating about. Do you not sleep or do activities yourself? "

" I... do not, " the reply comes with a vague confusion, " No sleep, no hobbies, well -- there is reading and decoding, but, most would say its' more a chore than hobby, " it rattles, " But, we Ghost don't exactly require the physical stimulation that you life-forms do. Nor do we have a purpose outside our Guardian -- hence, my hobby, is making sure that you have hobbies. And that you're safe, and kept in line. "

" Mmm... sure, " the Guardians' head tilts, the information only half making its' way to being processed. That the Ghost was more an unmovable thorn in her foot, than that of a best friend for life. Interesting, to say the least. At this point, not knowing if she'd be fond of the fact or not.

Matters to decide for later, she supposed.

With violet brows furrowing in thought, she then begins the day by prying herself from the floor. Pulling ones' self to feet, walking over to the nearby dresser, stocked with two sets of clothes as she changes from her sleep wear -- a tank with cotton shorts to a long-sleeve and fitting pants. The threads in the pocket of said pants prickled at the side as if only recently seamed. Nothing too spectacular, but it beat walking around the place bare. A cotton-braid pair of socks, with boots to match the fix, and she was out the door -- greeted by the rising sun on the horizon as the sounds of the busy Bazaar scurried awake.

" Are you going to talk to Ikora today? " the Ghost asks, keeping its' distance within the Awoken's head space. Its' optic ever so often looking back at its' Guardian, curious of what new actions she might take. Rarely did it seem to meet eye-to-eye, her attention always seemingly caught elsewhere.

" I'm not sure. "

An exaggerated way of saying, ' no ', she walks through the halls of the Tower before coming up to the opening of the balcony. The soft breeze causing her hair to flutter to the side, the sun once more striking a ray against her face, causing a set of star-aligned freckles to shimmer. The smells of the ramen shop just up the road begin to make way into her senses -- lunch prep ushering her to spend what few glimmer she carried.

In the corner of her eye, the Warlock is already at her post. Never a dime missed on the hourglass, it seemed. The mere thought of how a woman could remain so... poise, even in the front line of a war; it sends a chill down the Awoken's spine. A nervous swallow in the back of her throat as she considers her options -- her doubts. If such was true that Ikora was apart of the Vanguard, and that they ran things around here...

" ...I think, I want to talk to the other Vanguards. "

" The others? " her Ghost perks, a questionable expression lighting upon its' sensor. " Is that wise? "

" I'd have to meet them eventually, anyway, right? " Selene hums. " Plus... what if this whole place is just... some sort of recruitment shack. Like, they just... tell you what you want to hear. A bait and trap. "

" You don't trust them? "

" It's not that... " her voice cracks at an offended tempo, " It's just... this is still, just... I don't know, it's just so unreal to me. That this... this is what the middle of war looks like, that half these people have one life to live while the others are just, eating it up and doing whatever they want. That, who decides what goes on around here is driven by people who don't have any reason to fear, and that by any standard is just -- just -- "

" Okay, okay. Wrong term, my bad, " the Ghost interrupts, stopping the woman in her rant. " Ah, perhaps the use... ah, paranoid? I do believe that is the better definition here. You're weary -- perfectly natural. Humans are very weary creatures, always the unexpected. But! If I might be able to help weigh your options a bit, that the people here might be more of help that say so, whatever it is that they are fighting beyond the wall. "

" Yeah, yeah -- I get it, yeah, " she sighs, waving a hand in surrender as the other is raised to her head -- pinching the higher bridge of her nose as she breathed. Nothing to get the blood boiling like good morning conspiracy theories. " I know... I know here is right. It just, feels right. But I... I want to know what the others say. I want to see if someone says anything different. Or if this place is just... one big... "

" Recruitment center? "

" ..Was going with family, but yeah. That would be the alternative, I guess. "

The Awoken's mind settling on the latter, she then moves from the shadow of the halls and onward toward the courtyard. Vibrations throughout the pipes of the Tower, rattling in motion between docking ships and fired engines becoming more apparent the further she climbed up the various stairwells. The smells of burnt wire and steel work replace the scent of spices and broth -- the sound of tinkering tools echoing off the plated walls of the gunsmith's shop. To its' side, the sounds of soft tapping and page turning from the cryptarch -- the mans' gaze loitering over the passing Awoken for a moment before going back to his work in hand.

What could be rightfully labeled as the roof of the Tower -- vibrant in both color and life. Multitudes of Guardians walking about the place, as conversations dotted the corners and other shops. A booming voice that stood among the masses laughed near the edge of the walls, a man built tall and full garb in armor head to toe with hands planted at his hips. Occupied with several other Guardians in full suits, their chat too mixed between the masses to really listen in on the details.

Had his aura not been so inviting, Selene may have very well mistaken the man as the Vanguard she was here to see. But not too far away, stood another man who seemed quieter of the bunch -- matching a very fitting description of, ' big blue ', as his attention held tight to the city beneath the mass.

" That is very much a leader pose if I've ever saw it, " her Ghost comments, swerving a round.

Her stomach is already twisting in an eager knot at the thought. The brief idea of hunting down the remaining Vanguard, first, then saving the king for last -- it's an option on the table but whether or not it'd place her anywhere different, is slim chance to none. To suck it up, get it over with -- she wanted answers, and who better than the leader of the pack to get them? It was a mental battle of persistence and cowardice, the Awoken's face twitching in discomfort before taking in a deep breath and flooring it towards the man with a staggered walk. Her Ghost, the small light which held plenty of commentary before, quickly popping out of existence as she approached, its' guidance silenced by the figurative means to observe and not heard.

Before words can leave her mouth, it was one step too late that the Titan turns his back to the city, his full attention held in approach as he meets her gaze eye to eye. As if sixth sense, or perhaps just the idle sound of footwork from behind -- the man replicates the traditional Awoken features, his skin touch of blue and eyes sharp as nails against night. An inquisitive look dosed upon his face, brow anchored upward in question as he stares back at the doe before him.

A silence is given in return -- the woman held hostage by her own nerves as she stares back. The height difference only just now dawning on its' intimidation factor, the Titan's shadow engulfing her like an eclipse. His face lacked the warmth of the Warlock's smile, and his voice remained unspoken, immediately lacking Hawthorne's charm. What was she thinking, just only having one foot in the den and already going towards its' pack alpha? What did she expect?

" Eh--Excuse me... " the two words slipping through her mouth, it feels as if it takes the remainder of her breath along with it. " I was... l-looking... "

" --Looking? " his jaw opens, curiosity piqued in favor as one brow raises higher. " Something I might be able to assist, Guardian? "

Ah. A traditional habit they seemed to have -- the disregard to names. A previous conversation held with Hawthorne echoing in the back of her head, it's just easier that way. Pensive expression slipping through the cracks of constraint for only a second, the Awoken regroups her words in full before trying again.

" I... I mean, I was looking... for the Van..guard. "

Pause is held for what felt like hours, the woman sheering away her gaze to something minuscule upon the ground as she waited. In return, the Titan's face softens momentarily, brow put at ease and corners of lips curl in interest. It isn't a smile, but a look of concern -- the nudge of ones' head as he speaks, his voice resonating in low cadence.

" We've not met, have we? " it's stated far less than a question, and more as matter of fact. " I would welcome you to the Tower, but it seems that someone else has beat me to it, and has already offered you space, " he motions, a hand raising in gesture towards her familiar attire. " I apologize that we've not been introduced earlier or I'd been happy to oblige... but I am Zavala, Commander of the Vanguard and seer to Guardian Military Operations. To whom I owe the pleasure? "

" I'm... I -- my name, is Selene. I'm... H-Hawthorne, actually, got me... settled in... " the Awoken fumbled, her eyes darting to anything else than to maintain eye contact with the other as her hands grabbed at the loose ends of her shirt. Her cheeks pinched in ache at the attempt to remain presentable -- a hallow hole in her chest nearly suffocating her by a whim. " I... don't mean to intrude... "

" Ease yourself, Selene. There are no enemies here, " Zavala spoke, this time cracking a soften smile. " I am unsure what has you so... perturbed. But I assure you, you are safe here. A place of solid peace and mind, may there be no safer place out there. "

How unfortunate that his words only fulfilled the opposite of what they mean to encourage.

" S-Sorry, it's just... adjusting, " she manages to speak out, one hand reaching towards the nape of her neck. Another survey of the courtyard and its' distortion before taking a breath and meeting back eye contact with the Commander. " I've... talked to Ikora Rey, and, wanted to.. speak with the remaining Vanguard if it was possible... "

" Ikora? " he repeats, quirking another brow movement, " A woman often too wise for her own good, but unmatched in the laws of Warlocks. I can only hope she remained positive in mentioning the remainder of the Vanguard, " a chuckle. " I am... right to assume then, as a New Light, she's given you some insight on the situation we find ourselves currently? "

" S-Somewhat... she mentioned a war. Something about, Cabal and the Traveler, " her eyes move up to the figure in the sky temporarily, " And that... Guardians are, typically the front line. Especially uhm... new Lights... "

Another pause -- the Titan works to process all of his words correctly, perhaps more in detail than the Warlock let on. As he, too, takes a glance at the chained Traveler, his expression is something Selene's already witnessed before upon the face of Ikora when she spoke all the same of the deity. A pained look of failing hope -- something so far to grasp, yet barely brushing the fingertips of the chosen.

" ...We've lost many of our best. Ghaul having been a step ahead this whole time, and with it, leaving us to be hacked away by the masses. The Red War will not just be known for its' fight against the Red Legion, but the blood of our fallen brothers and sisters... we owe it to them to fight. To keep strong, and win against this threat that's taken away from us so many. " a hand moves in place as Zavala grips the railings of the Tower, the fabric of gloved mesh tightening against his figure. " This is not just a War for the Traveler, but for the very species of the human kind. Should we lose, risk extinction against the Cabal, and like a history untampered, we become like the rest we dare never meet. "

Put into a larger perspective, the decision begins to weigh twice as much upon her shoulders now. A grimace of features as she raises hands from shirt to arms, wrapping her own across her chest as she hugged at her own frame. A being so small, yet so full of power. The human race stood on the line, and the Guardians were the only ones who stood a chance to fight back. It was less of a heroic journey and more of an obligated fate, sewn between crimson string that fell indestructible to scissors of the Gods.

Anyone to chose any differently -- to decide that enough was enough and that they'd live their life normally, while those condemned to a single life worked tirelessly to survive, were they looked at in poor taste? Or were they shunned all together, nothing but rumors upon dirt to those who remained so cowardly and/or selfish to abide by the strengths they were given.

She didn't ask for this.

No one did.

But certainly, in her mind -- Gods, she didn't ask for this.

" Had it not been for the Traveler, I doubt even humanity would have survived past the Golden Age... " Zavala's words pick up, guiding the Awoken's attention back to his front, " But here we are. More alive than we've ever been. And I'll be damned I let the Cabal take it from us. "

His hand lessens around the railing in front of him, his gaze teetering back to the Guardian present. Selene's entire body seemed encased by uncertainty, so much so that the Commander could read it without question. He takes a breath before continuing, rephrasing the very same that had been spoken of from the Warlock days earlier.

" -- We do not ask that all Guardians fight. That is a choice for them to make their selves, and in doing so, your decision to make. We cannot ask you to risk life after life, fighting for something you do not believe in. But if I might be able to give one simple request, " his voice comes between a mix of empathy and solidarity -- " is that I ask you to think it over, Guardian. Not everyone can do the things that you can do... nor can they achieve the heights you can achieve. With this boon of the Traveler, it is my belief we owe it to those who cannot fight for themselves. That we are gifted in such a way that we are meant to do so much more. If you believe your strengths to be shone elsewhere, however... there is none to stop you. Nor will we see you as any less. "

It was a concern on its' own how contempt his face sat in the process of delivering a bold-face lie. His words thrown on her like a weighed cloak, sewn with half-needles as they gnawed into her skin. The repeating definition -- ' gift ' -- such things were given in joyous occasion, not bestowed upon those unnoticed. And yet, it seemed all the same here -- both between the Vanguard and other Guardians who seem to accept such responsibility so lightly.

Was she wrong, for being so callus?

Was she wrong, for needing time to decide?

" I... I'll think on it."

Right now, all she wanted to do was retreat back into her room. To dive back under the blankets, sink into the floor and melt away. What she wanted, answers to questions that plagued the back of her skull like a continuous tune, and yet what she got was a louder tempo. It was sickening -- she felt morally sick, her chest aching to explode at the lack of air and her arms wanting to bruise at the brute force her nails seem to dig against.

She didn't want to think.

She didn't want to be here.

She didn't want to be a Guardian.

She just wanted to be.

" It's all we can ask for, " the Commander nods, offering a plain smile. " Was there anything else I can do for you? "

" No, thank you. I'm... actually going to head out for lunch. Then... ah... "

" Rest easy, Guardian. Enjoy your meal, " he finishes the farewell for her. Whether its' to be polite and ease her burden, or be it for his own impatience -- she didn't know. He was but a temple, impossible to read in the ways she could others. Fatigue quickly zapping the rest of her energy as she turned and walked away, the mental capacity of all that was running through her head meeting the equivalent of informational override.

" That was... different, " her Ghost hums, sparking back to life as it weaved near her shoulder. " What do you think? "

. . .

" I don't want to talk about it right now. "

#✦ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴ / drabble #destiny 2 #destiny 2 short story #destiny 2 rp #d2 rp

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iliketorantandstuff · 6 years

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Wandering in Punjab

I think one of the biggest blunder my parents made was to let me go on that exchange trip back in 2015 to Romania, because since after then it has been almost impossible for them to contain me within the bounds of our house. You see, I got high, I got high on the intoxication of freedom, and solitude and the high got me addicted to it. In the last two and a half years, I have visited three countries, and almost over twenty cities and towns. The adrenaline when the plane takes off, and the train starts moving, and the sound of my own breath that I can feel when I walk for miles with my shades on, it’s fodder to the well-being of my soul.

I haven’t posted about my travels yet, but I believe this recent excursion demands me to write because this was an altogether a very different experience. The first time I traveled internationally on my own, especially that backpacking trip across Turkey where in 15 days, with no prior bookings, or plans which cities I wanted to see, I discovered my potential. I used to go to the bus stand, stand there, see which city seemed more favorable after hitting some Google tabs, I would hop on a night bus, saving my night stay cost of hotels, get off in the morning, explore the city, and hop on another bus by the evening. Convenient, no? Not as much as it sounds, it was quite hard; my parents had no knowledge that I was absolutely alone in a country whose 80% of the population does not even speak English. It was difficult, and I used to take that as one of my achievements. But believe me you, all those very cute “wanderlusts, and travelers”, travelling alone abroad is one thing, and travelling alone in our own country, which has very limited means of infrastructure to support your commute, people are alien to the idea of a non-foreigner travelling alone, and that too a girl. Haw haye!

When 2018 started off, a friend and I decided to maintain journals while having our chai sessions at Roadside Cafe. That journal had my to do list for the year, I thought if I’d write it down, I’d be able to achieve it since the need to check off will keep biting me. Travel to Bahawalpur this year! I saw Bahawalpur’s pictures in some Instagram post some two years back, and I planned it with my bae back then, “chalo jee, kisi din sath chal kar dekeingay”, bae turned out to be bae-wafa and I thought khadday mein jaye Bahawalpur, Akeley kia jaungi.. Adhooray khuwab. Until recently I was like screw it, let’s do it on my own. 23rd march luckily gave us a long weekend, which I noted down earlier this year; because that was the weekend, I decided I’ll go off. However, work came in between, and the plan got delayed. Somehow, I got lucky again. My boss came to me and said I should go for my field visit to Multan. Hain, kia? A little taken aback, but gleaming after a few seconds, it gave me another hope. All said and done and after having communicated with my boss who looked at me astonishingly that why of all places would I choose Bahawalpur for an excursion after my sales visit? I flew to Multan on Tuesday with my return flight on Sunday from Bahawalpur airport. Yay! Also, I’d like to take a moment here to highlight, that ladies and gentlemen, THAT’S how you manage your work life balance. Life doesn’t end once you get into corp life, it’s all about will and smart management. True story.

Ok, guys friendly advice, pls March onwards sochiyega bi mat to go off to Southern Punjab, especially if you’re from Karachi the hawadaar Jannat. MEIN TOU MAR GAI. it was very hot. Like dehydrated kind. Got off at the Multan airport, and woah, it definitely surpassed my expectations because it was a very well maintained airport, with a lot of usage of blue tiles, since blue pottery is big in Multan. The city of Saints, I sighed. I got out of the airport to hail my Careem and proceeded towards my hotel. As soon as I got off the airport premises, on my left side I could see some fields, while on the right side I could see red bricked, short heighted walls. That particular sight is what has always reminded me of where I am; Punjab. Call me stereotypical or throwing a generalization, but be it Lahore, Gojra, Sargodha, Rawalpindi, or Multan in this matter, short heighted red bricked walls is something you’ll commonly find around you. Heading towards the hotel, I see posters of different political parties, I could tell the area was heavily dominated by PTIs supporter, upon asking the driver he tells me that this is the city of Shah Mahmood Qureshi, which made sense. My hotel was at Abdali Road, named after Abdali Mosque, which was also dressed in Blue tiles, and kaashkaari, a contemporary mosque fused with the cultural setting of the city.

Next day, my sales visit was planned for old Multan, near Bohar Gate. My car only took me so far, I had to get off way before the gate, and the walk inside of the old city was all on my own, since the streets were more like arteries, so narrow, with vendors by the side selling all kinds of things. As I went on for my work, from the car I saw Haram Gate, Pak Gate, Delhi Gate, and Dolat Gate. Intrigued as I was, I asked my driver to explain me its significance, and he replied that the city of Multan used to be contained within these gates, with arteries connecting in the middle. It was built like a Qila, a fort, so whenever they’d have the khadshaa of a war, they’d shut it down, and protect the people and the city. Genius, I thought to myself. However, now the city has populated well, and has more territories, and peripheries, which makes the up city.

The next day, after my sales visit, during my break, which was between 3 o clock – 6 o clock, I set out to see what the city is known for; to pay my regards to the saints. Now now, I am not a very religious person, but I am a very spiritual person, so these places were a must, but man, what a wrong timing I chose since jal kar raakh hogaii. Hailed a Careem for Shah Rukn I Alam, the driver dropped me at this gate, asking me to continue the journey on foot now since the car couldn’t go inside. Had to walk about a kilometer, but could spot the Shrine from miles away because of its giant figure. With my crinkle white dupatta wrapped around my face, and my yellow glasses popped in, I wasn’t fitting in well quite frankly, and hence the stares. I entered the shrine, had to take off my shoes, and it felt like my talwaay were rested upon dozakh, aag hi lag gai. Going around it, and inside, I paid my regards, and prayed to Allah. Took a few pictures here and there in the karak dhoop, but an interesting visit altogether.

There I also found out that he was grandson to Bahauddin Zakariya, which was my next station. Like Shah sahib, I said salam to Zakariya sahib too, which was like two kilometers away from Shah Sahib.

Walking all on foot, I felt liberated to a whole new level because a girl doing this on her own in Bucharest was one thing, but in a lesser urban city like Multan, where I knew no one, & vice versa, it was exhilarating. Next, I hopped on in my Careem, and headed to Shah Shams Tabriz, it was about 4.30 and I could still spare some time. Shrine of Shams Tabriz was near this famous bazaar called Hussainagai, which was a miniature version of Saddar, Karachi. Selling everything and anything, you name it and it was there. It was scorching hot, & so while I was ranting about it, my driver went on to say “baaji aurton ko dekhein, itni garmi mein bi inki shaaaping nai rukti,” I lightly chuckled, because it was so true.

Reaching the Shrine, I realized that most of the mureeds over there were Shiites. Said my salaam, and left, and the last stop I had to make was to the blue pottery shop where I bought a couple of small delicacies. Continued my work there, and the next day was the more awaited day where my official tour had ended and my own exploration had to begin.

So from there on, it was all on my own. It took me about two and a half hours reaching Bahawalpur from Multan on a rent a car, because the road is a little bit under construction. My father is an ex-army officer, so I had spoken to him and asked if somehow I could secure a room in the army mess, since first, I absolutely love the Cantonment areas because of the clean and isolated environment, which I can’t experience anymore in Karachi, and second, the army messes are quite cost effective. Driving up to my room, I was suddenly full of nostalgia and homely feeling. I spent most of my childhood in different cantonments around Pakistan, and the previous past ten years of my life, I was situated in Malir Cantt Karachi, until last year. Settling in my almost decent room, I took out my diary and started scribbling all the areas I had to see, and writing down all that I had learnt during Multan. Ali Sethi’s Mahi Mera playing on my JBL speaker, I started to nest in my little room. In the evening, I went out for a walk around the Cantt, covering almost two kilometers on foot while taking several photos of the beautiful vicinity, the sunset, the brown leaves on the ground fallen from the tree.

I popped into one of the shops to buy mosquito repellent, and bottle of juice, I walked some more. There were stares, obviously, a girl with an urban sense of clothing walking all alone in the stranded roads, was not something people there were used to. TGIF, Thank God it was Friday. Idk why, but eh. Saw the moon come up, it was a full moon, short of one day. Went back to my room, ordered some food, and ironed my clothes for next day. Plugged in my Netflix & caught up on the latest episode of Riverdale (DON’T JUDGE) and slept.

Next day, I was ready by 9.30, I had hailed a rent a car earlier for the day, which helped me commute. My first stop was the Bahawalpur Central Library. Entering, & finding a Rolls Royce parked at the front to welcome the visitors was just the beginning. Words will fall short if I even begin to explain what the library was like. I am a book sniffer. I buy books, open them, sniff them as if they’re my drugs, and feel euphoric. Entering that library was my Amsterdam where I could just get high anywhere & everywhere. That old smell of books reminded me of the diary my grandma gave me in which she used to scribble things during her youth days. Hell, I really can’t put in words what that place was like. Since picture is worth thousand words, here are some few hundred thousands of words explaining that I possibly can’t.

History. I am a history person, there was so much there, I couldn’t fathom. I search for spaces in Karachi where I could just go sit, and enjoy my vibe while having a cup of tea and reading some novel thoughts of Ashfaq Ahmad, and here it was. This gigantic place where that’s all people were doing. Upon asking the librarian, I got to know that the books here are either donated, or are funded by the government. It’s the second biggest library in the entire province, and the pillars of it are made of daal maash, chaawal, and doodh, this is precisely why it still stands untouched, undamaged. I spotted students sitting outside, hogging over a book discussing some theorem, nostalgia from IBA days filled my mind, sitting in Tabba block, hogging over kitaabs and notes.

Next to the library was the Bahawalpur Museum, which charged about 10 rupees for entrance and 10 rupees more if I wanted to take pictures. As I entered, I see this very tiny vintage Fiat. Upon inquiring, I got to know that Nawab Sadiq used to take his mummy around the palace in this car since she couldn’t walk much. How adorbz, and insanely royal. Mahal ghumanay ke liye alag gaari, wah.

The wall was covered with historical pre partition pictures starting from Tipu Sultan, War of Independence, Siraj ud Daula, Shaukat brothers, and moving all the way till Shaheed-e-Millat was sworn in as the Prime Minister Pakistan. One of the caption of the pictures was hand-written, and so it got me suddenly. I immediately inquired where did these pictures come in from, and I was told that these are all the original pictures. I was shaken up a bit because all this time I had seen these pictures in my history books, but never knew where the original ones rested. Wow, I moved on and saw the ruins of civilizations, left overs of the lifestyles of people of Cholistan and Bahawalpur, ruins from Harappa, Moen Jo Daro, the stupas of Gautama Buddha, the currency of Bahawalpur when it was a separate state, models of Derawar Fort, and so on. Infinite many little things I learnt, that I probably could not have learned from the books. Spending almost 45 minutes at the museum, I came out and next I visited Darbar Mahal.

For Darbaar Mahal, you need to take permission, the perks of Army allowed me to enjoy this facility. As soon as I entered, I saw this not so tall, but nonetheless very royal looking wide handsome palace. I sighed a little and entered with light steps, because I really didn’t want to infiltrate the beauty I was stepping into. Finding large portraitures of Nawab Sadiq and his ancestors, the tour guide told me all about his family, the palace’s history, what, when, why and how it was built. To say the least it was about 200 years old. The architecture infused with Victorian style, Hindu arches, and Muslim Balconies, synonymous to our generation Z; an influenced mix of cultures.

I took my time to explore the beauty of it, while the guide went on to narrate history of Bahawalpur, its formation, its adjoining with Pakistan, and its facilitation to Pakistan Army back in 1950s. Darbar Mahal, now hosts offices of Generals of the Army of the commanding and stationed unit in Bahawalpur, and sometimes hosts events for Corp Commander and so on. Infront of the mahal were the typical diwaan e khaas and diwaan e aam, baramdah for resting and musical events. The darbaaris would also come in with their faryaads there, and they’ll have a hearing session in those facilities. Near the mahal, there were two more mahals, which were named after the wives of the Nawab. Yahan humein ek kagaz ka phool nai milta, my thoughts to my own miserable self. (Self-deprecating humor is my self-defense mechanism)

I also visited Islamia University, Baghdaad campus which was like the first world version of Karachi University. With a radius of 7 km, the university holds about 52 faculties, with a mini zoo in between, some five girls and seven boys hostel, and numerous facilities. I was amazed to see a designated study area for girls which was an open air park with an artificial pond in between, basketball and tennis courts, and outdoor table and benches with lights fixed, so they are also able to study at night. A replica of the same was available for boys. Now, mind you I couldn’t avail these privileges even at a place like IBA. Feeling deprived of such a rich setting in an urban city like Karachi, I went back to my mess to rest for the remainder of the sunny day.

My evening visit had to conclude with Noor Mahal, which was my last stop for the weekend’s exploration tour. Alluringly illuminated, Noor Mahal was open to public, and was bigger than I had imagined. From what I’ve heard, this mahal was a gift to Nawab Sadiq IV’s wife, however she refused to reside there due to its proximity with a graveyard. She only ever spent a night there. After being severely consumed by the architecture of the grandeur, I left the mahal with a heavy heart because I swear I could have just stayed there.

Adding on to that, the realization of heading back to Karachi was sinking in too. I had my dinner at a local restaurant called Four Seasons, and headed back to my mess.

Next day, I spent working on my presentation and in the evening boarded flight back to Karachi from Bahawalpur airport, which by the way was like a mini hospital in Karachi. Sitting in an ATR plane was my first of experiences since I have usually flown in 777 or 707 Boeings, usual flights of Karachi, but this was like a tiny plane. Being the only woman in the entire plane, and sitting between two uncles adjacent to me, and one on each side, I could not have imagined myself being in a more uncomfortable place ever. Experience, I sighed, for these little things are what makes me bold enough to do all these wild adventures on my own.

I finished off my book on Rumi’s teachings, and just waited to touch down Karachi. Getting on to the Drigh Road from Airport, I got stuck for some 40 minutes because of the traffic. Yup, I was back in my city and its hustle bustle, but this time with a lifetime worth of memories!

#recklesswander #rehnaward #WhenInPunjab #bahawalpur #richpakistan #historyfanatic #travelblack

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