The Little Independence Day Celebration

The Little Independence Day Celebration

BY: Ubaid.

“Uncle Saeem! Happy Independence Day! Wake up, it’s morning already!” little Musfira shouted joyfully as she entered her uncle’s room, waving the national flag in her tiny hands.

“Oh dear, it’s morning already? I didn’t even realize,” Saeem said with a smile, rubbing his eyes. He had stayed up late the night before, decorating the entire house and street with strings of colorful lights. Now, it was time to enjoy the fruits of all that hard work.

Musfira looked adorable in her green and white dress—the colors of the Pakistani flag. Her uncle couldn’t help but compliment her, “Musfira, you look just like a fairy today!”

Just then, Zubi peeked through the door. “Uncle, hurry up and get ready. I’ve made breakfast and your tea is waiting!” she said, taking another sip of her own cup before heading toward the kitchen.

Outside in the courtyard, the atmosphere was filled with energy. The children were running, shouting, and laughing. Flags fluttered in the light morning breeze. The air was filled with the excitement of the 14th of August—Pakistan’s Independence Day.

Maaz, Anas, and Humer were busy hanging little green and white flags in neat rows, chanting “Pakistan Zindabad!” while Inayah and Musfira sang national songs with tiny but passionate voices.

Since schools were closed this year, Uncle Saeem had decided to organize a complete Independence Day program right at home. No matter what the circumstances were, he believed, “Freedom Day must be celebrated.” So he had arranged a small family gathering in the courtyard, with a colorful tent set up the night before.

After breakfast, Saeem and his cousins built a small stage in the lawn, while the children continued decorating the space. “Hey! Stop Musfira! She’s ruining the flag strings!” Maaz shouted.

Completely unaware, Musfira was running around with Inayah, and her little feet stepped over the delicate flags, tearing a few apart. Her mother immediately scolded her gently, “Sweetheart, don’t step on the flags! They have the moon and star on them—our national symbols.”

The older boys—Maaz and Anas—sat with glue and strings, joining flags together. Abdul Rahman and Noor helped them lay the lines straight so the glue could dry quickly. Earlier that morning, Aunt Zubi and Baji had prepared a big pot of homemade glue for the kids to use. Now, they had plenty to decorate as much as they wanted.

Meanwhile, Grandma was in her room, reciting the Holy Quran and praying for the peace, safety, and prosperity of the country.

Within a few hours, the entire house was covered in colors—green, white, and silver. The courtyard looked festive and alive. Chairs were arranged, the stage was ready, and the children sat excitedly, waiting for the program to begin.

Uncle Saeem took the microphone. “Let’s officially begin our Independence Day celebration,” he announced.

First, young Umar was called to the stage to recite verses from the Holy Quran. His voice echoed beautifully across the courtyard. Then the real program began—songs, speeches, and laughter filled the air. The children, who had been feeling bored and restless at home for months, were now brimming with excitement.

The idea had come to Saeem just a week ago. “Eid passed quietly this year,” he had thought. “Let’s make Independence Day special for the children.”

Soon, the guests began to arrive. Aunt Masarat brought her old friend Nasreen, who came smiling with her kids. The courtyard was now full of families, both young and old, all wearing shades of green and white.

One by one, children went up on stage to sing national songs or deliver short speeches. The house echoed with claps and cheers.

The women of the family had arranged delicious food. Zubi made aromatic rice pilaf using the leftover meat from Eid-ul-Adha. Aunt Nasreen and Aunt Arisha fried crispy samosas and spicy pakoras, while Uncle Jamshed brought crates of mangoes and chilled soft drinks. The air smelled of food, fun, and freedom.

Then it was Anas’s turn to speak. The chatter stopped as he stepped up confidently to the microphone.

“My respected elders and dear friends, Assalamu Alaikum!” he began in a clear voice. “Today, the 14th of August, is the day of our freedom. We celebrate this day because it reminds us of the countless sacrifices made by our forefathers. In August 1947, after years of struggle, the Muslims of the subcontinent finally achieved a homeland—our beloved Pakistan.”

He paused and continued, “Freedom is one of the greatest blessings. To understand its value, look at the people of Kashmir and Palestine. Generations have passed in their struggle for independence, yet they continue to fight for it. Slavery crushes the human spirit—it steals wisdom and dignity. Freedom, on the other hand, is a divine gift. Let’s value it, and pray for our country’s safety and peace.”

The courtyard was silent for a moment, then filled with loud applause. Grandma’s eyes glistened with pride.

“That was a beautiful speech,” she said warmly. “You children have made this day truly memorable.”

Soon after, the refreshments were served. The smell of freshly fried snacks mixed with laughter and chatter as everyone enjoyed the meal together. The children, faces painted with green stars, waved their flags and sang “Dil Dil Pakistan.”

As the sun began to set, the little green and white lights that Uncle Saeem had hung the night before began to glow. The courtyard shimmered once again, echoing with the sounds of joy, unity, and pride.

Before leaving, Grandma raised her hands in prayer, “May Allah bless our homeland—keep it strong, prosperous, and free forever.”

And with that, the family’s simple yet heartfelt celebration came to an end. The children went home smiling, their hearts full of love for Pakistan.

Pakistan Zindabad!