Oh, my beautiful land of the Baloch, what have they done to you? Your sights are to be beheld; your colours are to be embraced. Your waters are sweeter than honey, your deserts are magic. What have they done to you?
Even the poor live happily in you, they smile, they dance and they sing. Every night, children sleep under the twinkling stars with their shiny eyes. They might not have shoes to wear but when they walk, they walk on gold.
Your splendor is paramount, you have seen more cruel than good. The birds and the parrots, see how they fly above your head! Behold your mountains, as they bear witness to God, behold the colours of creation. And when it rains, the flowers are spread all around. The streams start flowing and the kids giggle as they splash water around. But oh my land, what have they done to you?
I have an affinity with your soil, how it sparkles against the blistering rays of the sun. Your deserts are vast and unapologetic. You give birth to robust youth, who grow into men, loving and craving for their homeland. You make poets, philosophers, academics but they all die young. Oh, my land, what have they done to you?
The beautiful land, your massive coastlines adorn your horizons, letting in the fresh breeze of freedom and liberty. Despite your glamour, a wave of relief and sovereignty is what you crave for, what you have always craved for. Is it too much to ask for? Oh my land, what have they done to you?
You newly sprouted youth! Embrace your homeland, for it is an epitome of charm and magnificence. Its grandeur is unattainable, its glory, unparallel. Look up to the beautiful skies of the Baloch land you newly-whiskered youth! You are the sons of the mountains, rise up pearls, you are the lions, the gatekeepers of this land. Without you, this land shall not thrive. It needs you, your educated, enlightened and informed minds. It needs minds who can tell right from wrong, liberty from oppression and love from hate. It needs you. But my land, what have they done to you?
The land of the blue waters, it needs you who is free of all fears, he who carries the emblem of nationalistic pride on his sleeve. Like a hawk, a falcon, who wanders the high and mighty amongst the grand mountains. Mountains which change color upon every rainfall. The land where its people praise God and thank the soil for its nobleness. The people, who tell each other ancient tales before they sleep under the moon skies, with hope and glitter in their eyes. That one day, it will all be okay. Oh, my land, what have they done to you?
Your beauty enchants me each time. Your winds speak oh so softly, reciting the mantra of unity and devotion. As dawn breaks, the Suleimani Markhors trot in the hills, the alligators swim in the rivers and you yourself, dance in your own light, whispering words of elation until it is all disrupted by the cacophony of guns and bombs. Oh, my land, what have they done to you?
But don’t worry, you are safe. You always will be. Your men and women will keep you protected and unharmed, as they always have. They always will. They were born here and God willing they will die here, amongst the grand deserts.
And how we are passionate to save you from the realm of evil for you are a lotus flower. From those who would harm you in a heartbeat.
Our youth, recite the tale of the bygone days and behold, you will not fall slaves to hollow promises of wealth and power.
This land is not the legacy of anyone, nor can anyone take it. It belongs to you. Pledge allegiance to its might, this land is yours. This land is poetry and you are the poets.
Nana Zeba Balochistan!
Published in The Express Tribune, October 31st, 2022.
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