Yes I’m From Generation Y, But That Gives You No Right To Abuse

by A Pakistani Boy


I’m going to tell you about what happened in my classroom and what i considered MY GENERATION is going through. Let’s call it “Generational Abuse.” Which i think it really is

I’m back in school, yes, back to my boarding school where i’m forced to attend the most boring class of my favourite subject; English. And that is not the only boring part. There’s more. But right now I’m going to write about what my english teacher kept talking about in the first ever lecture of my current year.

We were discussing a poem ” Break, Break, Break” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson and my english teacher, who is a very famous poet and a philosopher of the country, kept going on and on about how “Low” or “Inferior” my generation is. For he got to feel the “Sentiments” in so many things and we(my generation) are living amongst “Disposables.” Just because he is truly my “Respected Teacher” I occasionally refrain from sharing my opinion with him.

He mentions how stuff passed from generation to generation, even fountain pens, and how it held so much importance because it had so much history attached to it. nd how a grass thresher(the hand type) was held so close to the heart because his grandfather used it. All was very sweet to hear and a very cute AAWWWish moment UNTIL, until he began discriminating between “us and them.” He said we (my generation) live among “Disposables” and how my generation can never feel what his genration felt and how we are so “Un-social” and “living with and amongst disposables.”

All i have got to say to those people who say my generation is worse than theirs and how numb and heartless we are, is that you are WRONG.

So this is from my generation (i think we’re called Generation Y, I think, not sure though. cuz i’m too backwards) to yours:

You say my generation
Would never know
How good was yours.
How we live
Among disposables

but living in a metro
Does not categorize us us
As anti-social
With no emotions
And feelings to hold

We feel, we live,
We breathe
Maybe not an air
As pure
As yours

But we carry on
With life
In our ways we do
Don’t make us feel
Of ourselves unsure

For we have
OUR summits to go
With our disposables
And to those heights
You cannot go

So stop with this
We have our differences
But we have, too, grown
And we have risen, like you
We both are different, yet equal

We have the memories associated with music, like which song was heard when and how long it took to download it and how crazy we were to get it (i’m on dial-up usually). That smell of the perfume which projects so many memories of the parties we wore it to. That song which was on the radio when our families went on a road trip leaving us home to study and how it made them miss us so much. The earphones our friend gifted us on our b. day and our little cousin broke one ear piece and we still use the other one. The time we bought a certain cell just cuz our parents wanted to celebrate our graduation and how we don’t wanna give it up cuz our parents bought it with so much love. The torn out old joggers in which we played basketball with our friends. The tickets of the FIRST EVER concert we went to with our buddies. The cafe in which we hang out with our friends and LOL around. The sunglasses somebody’s fiance gifted him and how we wear them everywhere. And i can go on and on about how my generation is NOT what they say it is.

We may be different but we are surely not below anyone nor are we above anyone else.

EVERYONE’S EQUAL!!

P.S. This was written a year ago