An Afternoon in Iqbal Park

The Bajwa family returned to the old city just before Summer’s end. It was part of a normal ritual every August: the celebration of Pakistan's Independence day. Aunt Seema had mixed pieces of chicken with celery, apple, curry powder, and mayonnaise before spreading the mixture on pieces of white bread and making Chicken Salad fold-over sandwiches.

The bus trip was a familiar trip for Yasmeen. Not only were Badshahi Mosque and the Sikh Temple located at Lahore Fort, but Iqbal Park sat there, too, just on the other side of the river. Yasmeen looked out the bus window toward the old city. Even from the distance, the Minar-e Pakistan slowly poked its heads over the treetops. The monument rose nearly 60 meters over the city. Minar-e Pakistan was the tallest thing in Lahore, including the tall spires that rose from each of the four corners of Badshahi Mosque.

The bus stopped in front of the Mosque. Little Khan led the way across the bridge, followed closely by Faisal. Meanwhile, the ladies lingered a way back. Yasmeen stopped halfway across the bridge. Blackbirds circled high overhead.

She picked a piece of chicken meat from her sandwich and tossed it into the air. One of the blackbirds swooped down and caught it mid-flight. It was well known that whomever fed the birds of the River Ravi would be admired kindly by Allah.

“Isn’t the lake pretty?” said Noor.

“That’s not a lake. That’s the old Ravi River,” corrected Mrs. Bajwa.

“How could they possibly move a river?” asked Cousin Noor.

“As Lahore grew, builders dammed up the river and dug a new trench so the waters wouldn’t cut through the city.”

A sidewalk led from the bridge to the entrance of Iqbal Park. Long, narrow sidewalks crisscrossed through the park. Fancy trees just like the ones next to Badshahi Mosque lined the walkways.

“Why are all the trees cut in strange shapes?” asked Noor.

“They’re called topiaries. It’s a special grooming for trees, that shows off the beautify of the tree and the gardener. Lahore is called the city of gardens because there are places just like this all over the city.”

“I’ve always heard of the Shalimar Gardens. Are they like this?” asked Noor.

“Only Shalimar Gardens is much prettier,” said Mrs. Bajwa.

Shalimar Gardens had also been built during the Mughal Empire. A wealthy man gave Shalimar Gardens to Shah Jahan. Shah Jahan continued to improve and build the site until there were over four-hundred fountains on three separate levels. The fountains cascaded like waterfalls. In addition to the fountains, nearly every kind of tree was planted in the garden: apple, almond, cherry, mango, peach, plum, and quince.

Although Iqbal Park had none of these fruit trees, Iqbal park did have open space. Boys played cricket in the open field while people watched. Some children were flying kites, even on a day with relatively no wind. People gathered on the podium at the Minar-e Pakistan, too.

“Can we climb to the top?” asked Noor.

“There is an elevator,” suggested Mrs. Bajwa.

“I’d rather race to the top.”

“It’s a very long way,” said Mrs. Bajwa.

“Let's race to the top!” exclaimed Faisal. After a head start, he sprinted the whole way to the tower. People crowded into the stairwell, passing each other like traffic during rush hour. Faisal pushed through people as best he could, but this gave the other Bajwa children time to catch up. Little Khan used his small size to cut through the crowds unnoticed.

The two brothers traded first and second on almost every landing. When the crowds cleared, Faisal's long, strong legs climbed stairs two and three at a time. When crowds gathered in the stairwell, little Khan weaved his way into the lead. Mrs. Bajwa and Aunt Seema took the elevator. They arrived long before any of the children. The rest of the children decided not to race at all, steadily climbing the stairs together.

"I won!" claimed Faisal.

"You didn't beat us," replied Aunt Seema.

"You weren't racing to the top."

"Who says so?" she argued. When Yasmeen arrived at the top, she went to the edge and looked across the horizon surrounding her. From above, the dark red stones of Badshahi Mosque stood out from its surroundings. The national emblem of Pakistan, the star and crescent, was cut into the grass.

The national emblem of Pakistan began at the very spot where Yasmeen and her family were now gathered. Mohammad Iqbal and Mohammad Ali Jinnah joined the other members of the All Muslim League in signing the Pakistan Resolution at that location. The Resolution announced India's independence from Britian. Up to that time, India was under British rule. It also created the Republic of Pakistan.

"Let's race back to the bottom," Faisal challenged the littlest brother.

"I don't want you two wandering around alone," said Mrs. Bajwa.

"I'll go down, too," said Mohammad, "I would like to play Cricket on the lawn."

"Alright then. we'll meet at the bottom of the Minar-e when we hear the evening prayer call."

Without another word, Faisal took off again, getting the head start to the stairs. Khan followed closely behind. Mohammad decided to take the elevator.

"You want to go down?" asked Noor.

"I'd rather look around for awhile. Everything is so green."

Not only were the trees in full bloom in the gardens of Iqbal Park, but there were also the flags and the face paint. People wore shirts and dresses with the green star and cresecnet, too. Flags waved int he breeze, some carried in children's tiny hands. Others hung from the top of tall flag poles. They lined the sidewalks in majectic glory.

"Do you see the boys?" said Mrs. Bajwa.

"They're over in the cricket field," Noor pointed out, "I think Faisal and Mohammad are on different teams. Mohammad is in the outfield."

"Then who is watching little Khan?"

"He's sitting with Faisal. Can't you see them in their long, white kameezes?"

Unfortunately, most of the Muslim boys wore the long white shirts that looked like prayer tunics. Still, her two youngest boys did stand out from the crowd.

"Let's go down and watch," said Mrs. Bajwa.

The women walked through the crowds. Pakistani Rangers stood guard around the tower. Their fine wool uniforms were neatly kept. Their faces wore grim looks. In contrast, blankets spread across the lawns as families and friends celebrated Pakistan Day in Iqbal Park.

Aunt Seema stretched out a row of blankets for the ladies. They joked and laughed as they watched the people around them. The evening prayer call sounded from Badshahi Mosque's Minarets. Directly after evening prayer, Yasmeen met her brothers at the base of the tower.

They found street vendors and ate kebabs for dinner. Everyone gathered on the blankets as they waited for nightfall. People sang patriotic songs and waved their dark green Pakistani flags with the bold white star and crescent in the center. The night ended with fireworks as the crowd sang the national anthem.

"Blessed be, Sacred Land
Happy is the bounteous realm
Symbol of resolve,
Land of Pakistan."

At night's end, the family crowded onto the bus and rode home. It had been a festive, but long day. All Bajwas, young and old, were very tired. Yasmeen went with Noor upstairs to their shared bedroom. They changed into nightclothes and tucked themselves into bed.

"This will be one our last nights together," realized Noor.

"Maybe I will see if I can visit you next summer."

"That would be great. We would have much fun," answered Noor.

"That seems so far away."

"It won't be long at all. What will you do during the year?"

"I am not sure," answered Yasmeen, "I will probably work with mother in her store."

The two girls laid in bed, talking about their summer gone and the upcoming school year. The next few days came and went just as fast. Yasmeen and her mother rode with Noor and Seema to the Wagah border and said their good-byes.

"I'll see you soon," said Noor.

"A whole year," replied Yasmeen.

"Like I said, it will be here before you know it." Tears welled in Yasmeen's eyes.

"Take care," she said.

The two girls hugged again, then let loose. Cousin Noor and Aunt Seema disappeared into the building that separated Pakistan from India. Yasmeen and her mother turned to face home. For Yasmeen, her next trip to the Wagah border would not come soon enough. As the car drove towards the setting sun, Yasmeen wiped the tears from her eyes and leaned her head agains the closed window.

"What are you thinking?" asked her mother.

"Is there a chance I could visit India next year?"

"I think that would be a pleasant idea. Do you suppose I couldl join you?" asked Mrs. Bajwa.

"Of course."

"That's good. Sometimes I do miss my homeland."

Yasmeen's heart lightened. For now, she would have to turn her ateentions to everything Bajwa. There would be one more business and one less Bajwa child in the house. She couldn't dream about far off things like a visit to India. Great chancges demanded she keep her heart close to home.