Bashir Khan

At 30, I find myself trapped in the mundane routine of running my greengrocer shop in Islamabad, Pakistan. It's not where I imagined myself. Growing up, my heart belonged to the stage. Acting was my passion, my dream.

But life had different plans for me. In our society, pursuing a career in acting was seen as impractical, even frivolous. So, I reluctantly shelved my dreams and embraced the responsibility of providing for my family.

Every day, I wake up to the same routine. I weigh fruits, arrange vegetables, and serve customers with a smile plastered on my face. But behind that smile lies a deep sense of disappointment.

There are moments, though, when the shop is quiet, and the hustle and bustle fade away. In those moments, I allow myself to daydream. I imagine myself under the spotlight, reciting lines with passion, and captivating audiences with my performance.

But reality always comes crashing back. The financial pressures of supporting my family and the weight of societal expectations loom over me like a dark cloud. It's a constant struggle between duty and desire.

Yet, despite the disappointment that weighs heavy on my heart, I refuse to let go of my dream. In the quiet of the night, when the shop is closed and the world outside is asleep, I steal away to a corner.

There, surrounded by crates of fruits and vegetables, I let myself be transported to another world. I recite lines from my favorite plays, feeling the rush of adrenaline as I become lost in the characters I bring to life.

It's a fleeting escape, but in those moments, I feel alive. I feel like the person I was always meant to be. And even though the disappointment lingers, so does hope.

Hope that someday, somehow, I'll find the courage to pursue my passion for acting. Until then, I'll continue to tend to my shop, nurturing that flicker of hope, refusing to let it be extinguished by the harsh realities of life.