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The young man was perched up on the sofa listening to the pitter patter of the rain outside, a shawl wrapped around him loosely. The television was on but his mind was elsewhere. In a few hours it would be seventy five years to his independence. He should’ve felt cheerful yet there was a certain melancholy in the air.
Things had been extremely dull since last year. He almost couldn’t recognize this world anymore, pandemic, mounting tensions with India. India. Would he even call to wish him? He unlocked his phone: 9:00 pm, there was still a while to go. Although he didn’t have high hopes since they had come close to war not a long time ago.
The rustling wind forced the window open, snapping him out of his reverie. Pakistan sighed and went to close it. Things would be low-key once again this year, no crowds, no big events. It wasn’t as if he had any family to visit either. He leaned back on the sofa and took a long deep breath.
“Oh screw it!” he turned off the TV and closed his eyes soon falling into a slumber.
Footsteps. Loud footsteps kept following him no matter how fast he ran the scent of blood hit his nostrils nearly making him gag. The rain didn’t make things any better either. The wet ground made him slip and fall in a puddle. He got up slowly and saw a dark silhouette reflected in the water, Pakistan slowly turned back and what he saw horrified him. It was a figure; its face darkened pointing a dagger at him.
He woke up gasping, eyes widened in shock. His phone was vibrating, the caller: India. It was 11:36 still. Quickly he composed himself and picked up.
“H-hello?”
“Uhm hi Pakistan… Happy Independence Day! It is today right? You didn’t change it or something did you?”
“No of course not, what makes you say that?”
“You sound shaken, is everything alright?”
“I’m completely fine! Nothing for you to worry about, aren’t you a bit early anyway?”
“Actually I’m not dumbass; it’s already past twelve in New Delhi.”
“Oh right, you always try to be ahead of me.”
“Hahahaha good one actually, how’s it going?”
“Nothing much, I’m cooped up inside. I guess I’ll go out if the rain stops.”
“What no party? You’re boring Pakistan.”
“Are you seriously thinking of having a party??”
“I’m joking no one wanted to come this year.”
“Obviously they’d be mental if they did.”
“Except America, he always wants to party.”
“Ahhh…”
Pakistan was actually blank on what to talk to him about; he was still a bit shaken by that dream. “So uhm Happy Independence day to you in advance I guess.”
“Dhanayvaad, Pakistan…” he paused for a few moments trying to remember how he had practiced it. “Infact I want things to be better between us as well.”
“Oh you do, do you?” he didn’t believe it to be honest; every time they did try to bridge differences something happened to ruin it all.
“It’s been like this ever since the Brit left.” He sounded a bit saddened by this.
“Oh believe me I want it to be better but unless you actually work on things that matter rather than pretending that we’re some happy family it won’t really get better.”
“... Fine but not tonight, at least let me enjoy independence first.”
“You always say that!” Pakistan sounded exasperated.
“I promise not this time!” he sighed. “Anyway do you remember that night, right? We were both together.” His voice going all the more serious.
Pakistan could quite vividly, both of them taking oath as the clock’s hand struck midnight. Fireworks resounded outside and loud celebrations erupted. Both of their respective flags were raised but soon enough this had transitioned into violence. In a matter of moments it was nothing but pure madness. Excitement quickly turned into sorrow.
“I- I can remember it pretty well. It was an awfully long night.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I do miss you.” India’s voice cracked a little.
“…” India didn’t sound like himself.
“Did I really say that out loud? Don’t make much of it. Goodbye!”
“You miss me?” but the call had already ended. Pakistan looked at his phone with a disappointed face. It was nearly 12. He looked outside and the rain had finally stopped. He thought for a while. Wrapping the shawl around himself tightly he stood up and walked to his door. People in the street were already outside eagerly waiting for the fireworks to start. He stood there quietly, watching. Children were playing happily. He had to be strong for them; they were his future after all. His face curved into a smile as green and white fireworks finally exploded in the air. He was relieved this time he heard cheers, not screams.
