Go ahead tell us all Fbi786.
I miss everyhting 
!
Hai hai aab kya karoo! Anyway as a brave soul i try not to show it in public or at college but at my flat i often sit there in tears.
All that i ever had i left in Pakistan. I do have some family here in the UK but they live far away from my college and i can only see them on weekends.
I love Pakistan even though i almost died there a few years back.
I would like to think i could return there and live happily ever after but i don’t think i can.
I was meant to be the star of my village but now everyone there looks to me in pity becuase i am reduced to only a shadow.
I used to love life and lived happily with a wife, but she died. We were still so young.
Now as i struggle to educate myself i fear i may never show my face there again becuase i used to be such a cool man, i was the son of a Soldier and i held a commision, my Uncle was a civil engineer and we would happily live between Rawalpindi and our village.
Now though i am just a student…
i’ve failed horribly at being a Soldier, and i failed to be a husband and a decent father.
Truly i have little but an empty and over-decorated house to go back to, how can i go back and face my relatives and tell them i let them down!
I feel shattered, as i’m the middle of three brothers i’m surplus to requirments. My father hardly ever talks to me and my Mother want’s me to seek a new wife.
My only help is my elder brother who lives in London, i go occasionally to see him but he has his own family.
Though i have little to look forward to except another show at the Army i cannot help but miss the country in which i was born.
Oh the sunset of pakistan…
Oh the wail of the nightingale…
Oh the sight sight of the monsoon rain…
Oh how i miss the fairgrounds how we used to sing,dance and play fair game…
I miss the family love, the friends brothers and comrades who still remember me…
How i miss the faces of my fellow countrymen, how pleasant they once looked upon me.
I bemoan the hot summers we had without rain.
Here there is rain applenty so much it overflows every drain…
How i miss the Azzan’s call… forsaken namaz i’m doomed to fall…
No more sacred shrines to whom my prayers can call…
How i miss that Islamic republic of Pakistan.
Whose people love me, hate me, would even kill me, but still call me a fellow man.
For here in kaffir lands for wealth and money, education and all, i cannot find peace…
Until i’m back in Pakistan.
Love Allah, and love Rasoolallah more.
Think of me in your prayers, may he forgive us all. Wassalam.