As I pass by the University of Peshawar, my alma mater, I am transported back to another time. The years from 1978 to 1983 replay in my mind like an old reel, slightly faded yet unmistakably vivid. Those were years of youth, curiosity and intellectual freedom. The university was not merely an institution; it was a living, breathing space of ideas, friendships and gentle dreams.

Sweet university, loveliest place of the plain/Where health and plenty cheered the student's heart.

It was my bower of innocence and ease/The seat of my youth, when every sport could please.

How often I loitered over its greens, where humble happiness endeared each scene. Students walked unhurried, teachers approachable, debates animated yet civil. The campus offered not only education but a sense of belonging. It was a sanctuary — open, welcoming, and confident in its purpose.

Yet those years were not politically benign. It was the era of martial law, when dark clouds of dictatorship hovered over the country. Paradoxically, despite this oppressive backdrop, the indomitable spirit........

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