The City Lights

Earlier tonight on my way back home from a friends place, I was awfully quiet in the car making it an awkward fifteen minutes between my dad and I.

To break the silence, he asked me,”why are you so quiet ?”

I answered him,”I like to watch the city lights at night.”

As another car passed by us, I began thinking like I always end up when there is a lot to think about.
I wondered why I felt this way. I wondered what made it so special.

Finally the answer came to me.

Only in the darkest of times, we find even the shortest ray of light beautiful and graceful. Only in the blackest night do you find the small blurry headlights passing by as a sign of hope and life. What I mean to say is, in the morning we fail to praise light and activity because we don’t get to see what the dark looks like. But when night falls, we begin to realize the importance of light and struggle to look for it.

And that is what the world is like.

While you’re growing up, you’re surrounded by light and hope and love and only see life in one perspective; the normal one, or the one that is your usual Monday morning.

However, once you’ve grown up, once you’ve gone through heart breaks, once you’ve lost someone dear to you, once you’ve earned something greater, once you’ve experienced something more valuable, once you’ve moved out into your own apartment, once you’ve entered the real and dark world. That is when you begin to see clearly.

This is when you start to realize that everything that ever made you stay up all night, emptying bottles of nutella is simply a dark road that you cross on your own, searching for a sign of more headlights at the end.

This is when you start to realize that everything that ever gave you fuzzy feeling in your stomach is the moment when you drive past your favorite pizza place.

This is when you see before your own eyes that everyday when you wake up or fall to sleep, you’re searching for the headlights at the end of the dark road, you’re searching for familiar places.

You’re chasing the city lights.

Q. What would you want to be remembered for ?

I recently applied for a school online, where they gave the applicant three essay topics. I chose this one and I'd like to share my essay with you all :)x


There are over 7.5 billion people in this world, and in every four seconds, another enters. Apparently, we all seem to have one thing in common; the need to do something. Elvis Presley sang, Michael Jordon played, Alexander the Great ruled and Nelson Mandela brought justice and freedom to South Africa. While not many of us are known at such a global level, we're all still well remembered by those who grew up with us and studied with us and danced in the rain with us. These are those people who watched us fall to pieces in the worst of times and watched us stand with our heads held high in the best of times.

So I come to the question of what I hope to be remembered by. A figure that’s looked up to? Someone others can trust? Someone who can bring a difference? Someone who can make a change? I’ve lived fourteen years of my life thinking and believing that by the age of thirty, I’d have graduated from Oxford, lived in a beautiful countryside as a lawyer and spent a weekend in Venice. It turns out; I had already planned my future in this world. But when I came across this question, I was blank. I was at a loss for words. 

So when I think about it, I don’t want to sing, or play, or rule or bring justice and freedom. I want to be remembered by all the little things that had a great impact on others. I want to be remembered as the girl who did something so small, like hugging someone tightly enough that one day or writing an article that moves a heart and shines a light bulb over their heads, and then changing their entire life. I want to be known for the cause of something, for the reason behind a person’s smile. 

If I get into Oxford or not, if I live in the countryside or not, if I become a successful lawyer or not and if I spend a weekend in Venice or not, I want to be known and remembered by as Wajiha Zia Sheikh; the aurora in someone's life.

Youm-e-Pakistan ?

 This is something I wrote a little while back, when it was the 23rd of March and I was getting the feeling of the day :)x


There was a dream. There was a thought. There was a light of hope. This then became Pakistan in 1947. But this day is about more than just that. 

On 23rd March, the Lahore Resolution was passed, which was a formal political statement adopted by the All-India-Muslim-League. It called for independence for Muslims in north-western and eastern British India. It was later interpreted as a demand for a separate and a single state for the Muslims of the subcontinent; Pakistan. 

I never knew that. I grew up here and i was not aware of the history behind 23rd March and this upsets me. But then when i think about it, i never had the chance. I never had a reason to think about 23rd March before. So what's different now ? What's changed ?

Perhaps it's watching the parade by the armed force for the first time. Or listening to national songs on the radio. Or just that ambiance in the air that i feel when i roll down the windows as I'm coming home from tutions, inhaling Pakistan's hot and sticky breezes and feeling more closer to home than i have in these past seven years. The answer to those questions will perhaps remain a mystery, but one thing is not. Something has definitely changed. 

Maybe people have stopped dreaming and thinking and hoping and begun doing. Maybe this generation has stopped building a new home somewhere else and begun rebuilding their old one. Maybe we all have learned to love and respect this beautiful country not with our minds but with our hearts. And i don't mean the love one has for nutella but i mean the love one has with something that belongs to them and depends on them.

And as I will grow up even more, this country will grow beside me. 

I think what i mean to say is that after so long now, I finally feel like this is my home. Like this is where I belong. I'm finally home. My home.