My last Blog, “Life, Beauty, and Wavy Oscillations … A Nostalgic Day Dream … Onward, It Must!”, drew such heartfelt reflections, comments brimming with warmth, reviews that humbled me. In reading them, I stumbled upon …

“Rivers are like Life. Obstructions … Stones in their Pathways do not Stop Them. They determine New Routes. Sometimes, they Cut Straight Through.” 

How true. How quietly profound.  

And so, today, I expand the canvas. No longer just “I”, as in that last musing … But … “We.” Especially now … Especially here in our beloved Pakistan. 

Rivers do not Rage against the Rocks.  

They do not Weep at the Bends Forced upon Them.  

They Move, Persistent, Patient, Inevitable.  

And … 

In their Journey, they Shape the Surroundings, Environments and the Life. 

Life, too, is a River.  

We begin as small streams, oozing, subdued, bright, dim, quick, slow, calm, restless … all with possibilities. The way ahead may seem clear, the destination certain.  

Yet the obstacles do surface. 

Sudden stops. Steep falls. 

Frustrations that loom like jagged teeth in the current. 

For a moment, we may swirl in place, trapped in doubt, wondering why the path is not smooth, why it does not run straight as we dreamed.  

But Rivers do not Stop, so should we. 

They Adapt.

Some Rocks force a Detour … 

The Current Bends, Carving a New Channel. What feels like a Setback becomes a Redirection … 

A path might never have been taken otherwise.  

Other stones are worn down, grain by grain, until what once was an obstacle becomes part of the Riverbed … 

Smoothed by Time

Shaped by Persistence.  

How often Rocks are mistaken for a Roadblock?  

How many times do we rage against the current, only to realise … 

Later … 

That the Resistance itself was Shaping us?  

The Disappointments that felt like Dead Ends were merely turns.  

The Struggles that seemed Insurmountable were, in Truth, the very things Teaching us to Endure.  

There is a quiet beauty in this relentless forward motion.  

A River does not cling to its past … 

It cannot.  

Every second, it is new water, new momentum.  

And yet, it carries within it the Memory of every Rock it had ever encountered, every Stone it has ever touched, every Bank it has ever carved.  

We are the same.

Our past is not a weight … 

It is the ‘Current Itself’, the force that propels us.  

The Rocks and Stones we have Encountered are not Scars …  

They are Proof … 

Proof that we Kept Moving.

So in these times … 

When the Flow Feels Slow

When the Way Seems Choked 

Let us Remember the Rivers …

We may not Run Swift

We may not Run Smooth

But Stop … We Must Never

Because Onward …  

Is the Way 

And

Onward …

We Must.

Akhtar N Janjua

All Praise Belongs to Allah Karim - Another chapter of this exquisite journey called Life gracefully concluded. 

Decades Woven with Gratitude, Brimming with Blessings upon Blessings. More than three decades of luminous years in “The Service”, Unparalleled, Timeless, the Very Best that Was, Is, and Ever Shall Be. 

Then, the horizon expanded, a new voyage, a sweeping panorama of the world unfolding before my eyes, almost a decade of colossal exposure, courtesy my Sincerity Personified Friends, then My Light, now My Golf-Mates. 

That followed by time of standing tall for my beloved Pakistan at the SCO Forum, shoulder-to-shoulder with the Finest Diplomats, Scholars of Towering Intellect, and Thinkers of the East. Exchanging wisdom, absorbing brilliance, and painting Pakistan's vision in the most radiant hues for consecutive five long years. 

Beijing, 2019, the SCO Forum hummed with energy, and there, amidst the currents of diplomacy, destiny whispered another calling. A notification arrived - “Member, Evacuee Trust Property Board (ETPB), Government of Pakistan”. 

A Role not just of Duty, but of Beauty …

The Living Embodiment of Pakistan's Good Will for … and Harmony with … Minorities … 

Where Minority Hearts beat in Peace … 

Where Respect for other Faiths finds its Sanctuary.  

While on the Trust Board, came 9th November 2019 - A day etched in Golden Light. The Kartarpur Corridor opened, a Bridge of Souls, a Pilgrimage of the Spirit, where now waves of devotees, Sikh pilgrims from across the globe pour in, their prayers rising like incense. Temples and Gurdwaras, long silent, have stirred back to life, their walls humming anew … And … Soon, the sacred stones of Katas Raj will Gleam Again, restored to grandeur, and by Allah's Grace, I have walked this path, Hand in Hand with History.  

What a journey? Nostalgic thick as Monsoon Air, Sincerity our Compass, Excellence our Creed, and Friendships … Bright as the North Star.  

Now, as I step away, the heart aches. The Laughter, the Heated Discussions, the Triumphs … they linger like the last notes of a raga at dusk. But such is life … An endless tide, rising, falling, yet always surging forward.  

As the curtain falls on this act, I find myself once again standing  - where memory and horizon meet. Chapter ends but the fragrance lingers, intoxicating and sweet … whispering, “Each farewell is but a prelude to another hello, each ending pregnant with beginnings yet unseen”.

The Corridors of Power, the Hallowed Halls of Worship, the Quiet Moments of Reflection between Storms, they have all been my Teachers. And what have they taught me? 

That Service is Love made Visible. 

That Bridges Built Between Hearts outlast those made of Stone. 

That the True Measure of a Life is not in Years Counted, but in Lives Touched. 

So here I stand, at the shore of tomorrow, watching the tides of time recede. The sand beneath my feet remembers every step, even as the waves erase them. This is the sacred paradox of existence … we are both the Sculptor and the Sand, the Wave and the Ocean.  

Let the next chapter be written by new hands, guided by the same stars that lit my path. May they build higher, dream bolder, love deeper. 

As for me? I shall Become Memory … A Whisper in the Wind, a Smile in the Sunlight, a Prayer in the Sacred Spaces we revived together.  

For in the end, we are but caretakers of moments, borrowers of time. The journey continues. The Story never Ends … it Simply Changes Hands.

AlhamdoLilah  … 

For every Sunrise and Sunset. 

For every Hello and Goodbye. 

For the Privilege of Having Served, Loved, and Lived.

And … To All who Walked with Me, and to the Unknown Souls yet to Cross my Path … My Prayers, Warm and Unceasing travel with You.  

Life shall Flow On … Wavy, Beautiful, Unstoppable. And so, It Must.

Onward, Always Onward …

Onward, always - carrying the golden weight of all that was

Brigadier Akhtar N Janjua, S I (M) (R)