I've always had to wait for the good stuff to happen. When I was in school, I was never the position holder and I would envy my classmates who seemed to effortlessly top the class. It was many years down the corridors of time, and after burning gallons of midnight oil that I got the satisfaction of being a top-runner. The sweet joy of your sweat and hard work paying off is unparalleled.

As I was growing up my parents were concerned that I was turning into a recluse. On the other hand I had friends who would walk into a room and shoot a grin at anyone at random and start making small talk; friends who, give them 10 minutes, and they would be comfortable in a room full of strangers. On the contrary, socialising was a trait I had to wait till my university years to acquire. But, in time, I did make friends who are loyal and rush to my side in times of need.

While a large chunk of my age group skipped the acne phase of their teen years, this malady has stayed with me even now that I'm touching the end of my 20s. Despite a chain of acne soaps and rip-off creams and treatments, my skin needs so much of my time and attention.

“Why me?” I used to moan to my mirror endlessly in my teen years. But, it has made me prize those good hair and skin days which are few but much deserved.

My parents never approved of giving my sister and myself things as soon as we demanded them. We always had to work towards our cherished dream toys. We had to seal pacts with promises of acing a test or completing a book or art project flawlessly and then, and only then, would we be treated to the coveted toy of our choice. Even though it annoyed me endlessly that we had to slog and toil to get a simple thing like a new board game, the reward was the sweet joy of earning something and knowing that we deserved it. Resultantly, we prized the things we possessed.

Today, kids and teens, throwing tantrums when they don't get things on demand, is a common phenomenon. They rant and rave that they are being treated unfairly. Their lives are ruled by comparing their possessions and lifestyle to that of their friends. I have even seen parents giving in to these sullen tempers and giving them what they want just to get them off their backs.

“Ali, my five-year-old insisted on a tricycle that his friend had,” complains Raima, mother of two boys. “My husband refused to buy him one because he knew that Ali is very irresponsible about his things.”

But after days of unceasing bellowing matches and Ali refusing to eat, his parents had no choice but to give him what he wanted. “It has been a month since we bought him the pricey bicycle, and he's hardly used it five times. It's inviting rust lying in the garage,” sighs his mother.

“I was a scholarship student and I always felt deprived when my friends would fly off to exotic destinations for their summer breaks,” says Asiya. “But I couldn't say anything to my parents because I knew they couldn't afford vacations. However, when I turned 18, my father announced that he had planned to take us to Malaysia.”

Asiya explains fervently what a memorable trip she had with her family that year. “We made the best of every moment. My brothers and I saw every spot Malaysia had to offer. We took pictures till we exhausted ten rolls of film. We ate at the most exotic of places and shopped to our hearts content. It was, without doubt, worth waiting for.”

Asim was faced with a dilemma when he was 19. He bagged a part-job as a waiter in a popular pizza parlour while he pursued his BBA degree. His hard work and charisma saw him promoted to the post of the manager. Sure, that meant more money but also demanded a lot more of his time. His grades in university dropped drastically. “At that point, I even considered giving up my studies, because I thought I was making good money.”

It was Asim's mother who pleaded that he quit his job and concentrate on his studies. “Seven years down the road, today I'm working in a multinational firm and earning more than I could have dreamt of,” he says happily,
Asim is so glad he waited till he was armed with an MBA degree. “I'd like to tell all those young boys and girls not to be swept away by the glory of a part-time job. It's so much better to complete your education; it opens up a whole new world of options and opportunities.”

Our lives are a collage of so many blessings, many of which we take for granted. It is only when a blessing is taken away from us that we realise its true worth. “I used to take my parents and the cosy home they provided for me for granted all my school life,” reminisces 23-year-old Sana. “I remember grumbling over my mom's homemade food. I remember not talking to my father for days when he refused to let me go for a vacation with my friends. I recall brooding over why I didn't have an air-conditioner in my room.” But all that changed when Sana went to study abroad on a scholarship to a university in Canada.

“I couldn't get over my home sickness. I used to call my mom all the time and cry over how much I missed hugging her. I missed my sister and my dad's comforting presence.” Sana returned to Pakiland after three protracted years and now she treasures all she has with a new-found joy.

“It's human nature,” says Sania who is a counsellor for kids in a school. “We always cherish things which we don't get easily. Similarly, we prize things which we have lost and then found again. It's nature's way of telling us not to take anything for granted. It's God's way of reminding us that our prayers will be answered. But all in good time.”