Heart of an Entrepreneur~ Confession to the world
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
The calm wind of Boulder fills my room as the soothing sound of each leaf from the tree branch against the window whooshes slightly to my thoughts telling me so many things...... I half listen as my gaze strolls up to somewhere in the space at nothingness... and my eyes fill with tears and my heart fills with longing.... I confess, I miss my home, my land and my people back in Pakistan.
It feels like an eternity now... too long for me to be away from those noises around the house, from kids who surround me and their beautiful voices running down the house make me feel alive each moment. The soft morning breeze hiting the trees in the haveli, while tea pots with stains of black on them from the fire wood would whistle for me to have a cup of tea of which each drop is filled with love that asks for no return...
That long of the night when I would sit with my sisters till really late watching tv, gazing each second at dad's door not to wake him up, while on the other hand dad fully awake from the sound of tv would stay in his room to allow us time to watch...
My heart fills up with love when I recall mom, her sound in my ears each morning, the warm morning sunlight shining on her hair and her face bent towards me with a smile...... I never told you mom but I loved it when deep in my work or reading something I would look up and see you... Its worth anything in this world. I know I am really busy most of my time when I am around but with those paperwork, those books surrounding me or those sounds of my typing in my room, my ears always search for your sound around the house and your existence...
I remember holding dad tightly while sitting with him on the back of the motorcycle, he would take me to my favourite book store, deliberately riding down the road where my favourite food place is and would say, "you dont need anything else do you"? and I would just laugh and wouldnt say anything becuase he would have already stopped there to buy me something to eat and we would end up having dinner out in the damp nights of Karachi....
And there are those moments of celebration when driving fast to the villages in Sughar's vehicle, the only second vehicle on the road is of mama noor's... my heart would skip a beat to look at him behind the steering wheel, his vehicle filled with people and wood that he would have to take to several places, but most especial of all the honk of his vehicle while crossing ours to let me know he cares.... I would gaze back at the dust flying from its wheels until it disappears.... Another of the moments I would never stop celebrating is the morning of these villages... several small and tiny feet would make their way to the school which is very far.... the sky blue government dress with white scarves I would stare at the little faces of these girls and my heart would weep with happiness....
The scents..... The mud kitchen of our haveli, smoke flying through the chimney while delicious aroma of friend chillies would fill the air... I would run and hug chachi so close because her every other day of frying chillies have to do something with my love for them.
The sun half setting, cow would be milked and I would stand there to get the first fresh glass of milk... I never get tired of doing it and love it when the foamy milk would remind of my childhood when I and my cousin would walk miles to go buy milk and lick all the foam on top while coming back. I would smile at the irony of everything in life and would laugh at the reality of it all that happened...
The dry and hot days when weeping willows in my village would whoosh so hard compelling me to stand under them forever listening to them... imitating them... The sound of the rushing water would grasp me and I
would run towards the river and would stand there filled with awe at the beauty of something as magnificent as nature...I remember Ali and me standing there once, I really wanted a picture of me in the river and he refused it because it was so cold... until we came across a rock and he finally got my picture but making my way out of the river I slipped in the water, soaked and freezing and he making a miserable face at me... I never told you this my brother, but I believe you are best brother one could ever have... I am blessed and fortunate to have you. while coming back home after a long day I love the tired face of you smothered with a forced smile, when I am filling you in on every single thing that would have happened.... I miss those moments...
The smallest moments, when I would rush out of the door in fear of being late for office and Tata would grab me by the elbow to go take me to her hut and give me tea, fried fish and roti. "don't work so hard", she would say and I would just smile. Its become a tradition....
There are so many things that have become a tradition, including the warm, comfortable house at night when kids are preparing to go to bed... dad walking around the house dimming the lights, while mom would bring warm milk for all the kids before they fall a sleep, she would tuck in all of them and looking at my bed wouldn't find me....Because I have always been gone.... long time ago I separated from all this.... chose to take a path that made me miss moments of warmth, love and comfort... moments when all the family would sit around the tv to watch movies and I wont be there....because I chose not to be there.... as I chose to be an entrepreneur...
.
Another peaceful breeze enters my room and the wind brings me back to today.... sitting at my desk with the computer in front of me... papers and books surrounding me.... my entrepreneur heart longs for the wind from my village... my feet longing to touch the dusty ground and my hands want to feel the mud walls... but instead my hands go up and wipe off the tears and turn back to the keyboard and back to work.... for many reasons.....one of which is because I have to make another tradition... tradition of consistency and persistence... the tradition of entrepreneurship to make this world a better place for all of us.
It feels like an eternity now... too long for me to be away from those noises around the house, from kids who surround me and their beautiful voices running down the house make me feel alive each moment. The soft morning breeze hiting the trees in the haveli, while tea pots with stains of black on them from the fire wood would whistle for me to have a cup of tea of which each drop is filled with love that asks for no return...That long of the night when I would sit with my sisters till really late watching tv, gazing each second at dad's door not to wake him up, while on the other hand dad fully awake from the sound of tv would stay in his room to allow us time to watch...
My heart fills up with love when I recall mom, her sound in my ears each morning, the warm morning sunlight shining on her hair and her face bent towards me with a smile...... I never told you mom but I loved it when deep in my work or reading something I would look up and see you... Its worth anything in this world. I know I am really busy most of my time when I am around but with those paperwork, those books surrounding me or those sounds of my typing in my room, my ears always search for your sound around the house and your existence...
I remember holding dad tightly while sitting with him on the back of the motorcycle, he would take me to my favourite book store, deliberately riding down the road where my favourite food place is and would say, "you dont need anything else do you"? and I would just laugh and wouldnt say anything becuase he would have already stopped there to buy me something to eat and we would end up having dinner out in the damp nights of Karachi....
The scents..... The mud kitchen of our haveli, smoke flying through the chimney while delicious aroma of friend chillies would fill the air... I would run and hug chachi so close because her every other day of frying chillies have to do something with my love for them.The sun half setting, cow would be milked and I would stand there to get the first fresh glass of milk... I never get tired of doing it and love it when the foamy milk would remind of my childhood when I and my cousin would walk miles to go buy milk and lick all the foam on top while coming back. I would smile at the irony of everything in life and would laugh at the reality of it all that happened...
The dry and hot days when weeping willows in my village would whoosh so hard compelling me to stand under them forever listening to them... imitating them... The sound of the rushing water would grasp me and I
would run towards the river and would stand there filled with awe at the beauty of something as magnificent as nature...I remember Ali and me standing there once, I really wanted a picture of me in the river and he refused it because it was so cold... until we came across a rock and he finally got my picture but making my way out of the river I slipped in the water, soaked and freezing and he making a miserable face at me... I never told you this my brother, but I believe you are best brother one could ever have... I am blessed and fortunate to have you. while coming back home after a long day I love the tired face of you smothered with a forced smile, when I am filling you in on every single thing that would have happened.... I miss those moments...
The smallest moments, when I would rush out of the door in fear of being late for office and Tata would grab me by the elbow to go take me to her hut and give me tea, fried fish and roti. "don't work so hard", she would say and I would just smile. Its become a tradition....
There are so many things that have become a tradition, including the warm, comfortable house at night when kids are preparing to go to bed... dad walking around the house dimming the lights, while mom would bring warm milk for all the kids before they fall a sleep, she would tuck in all of them and looking at my bed wouldn't find me....Because I have always been gone.... long time ago I separated from all this.... chose to take a path that made me miss moments of warmth, love and comfort... moments when all the family would sit around the tv to watch movies and I wont be there....because I chose not to be there.... as I chose to be an entrepreneur...
.
Another peaceful breeze enters my room and the wind brings me back to today.... sitting at my desk with the computer in front of me... papers and books surrounding me.... my entrepreneur heart longs for the wind from my village... my feet longing to touch the dusty ground and my hands want to feel the mud walls... but instead my hands go up and wipe off the tears and turn back to the keyboard and back to work.... for many reasons.....one of which is because I have to make another tradition... tradition of consistency and persistence... the tradition of entrepreneurship to make this world a better place for all of us.
1 comments