this night of power.

i envy my cousin. he assures me that he misses nothing. that he lives in the present with eyes always set on the prize. me, not so much. i miss things. i miss people too.
when we were younger, all my fathers’ siblings would come to lahore to celebrate eid with their parents. on the night of the 27th of ramzan, all my cousins would line up in mummy daddys hall and maheen would lead the prayers... ishah and then nafals for as long as our spindly legs would permit. then we'd crash, complete knackered.
tonight, many years later i feel my zeal has dwindled. May be all forms of compassion have been replaced by patriotism. May be this patriotism is affected too. these are transitional years. It’s the patch of bad road before the long stretch of highway.
sometimes, during assembly i make a silent prayer before i get into the drone. is this the line i was set to tow? i feel that in doing so ive been written off. written off too soon.
there is an idea simmering inside and believe me when i tell you, the only thing that you'll ever need in this life, is an idea.