
There are moments in life that shape us not through victory but through the lessons they leave behind. As a boy I dreamed simply: to fly for the Pakistan Air Force. After matriculation I cleared the initial exams and went to ISSB Kohat. After days of trials and interviews I returned with a single-line letter: “Not selected.” Later, after F.Sc. in 1986, I tried again—this time for the Pakistan Military Academy. Once more I reached Kohat and once more was turned away; the commandant gently suggested I might do better in civil service.
Those refusals could have ended my story. Instead they became a new preface. Time taught me that disappointment can solidify conviction, and that service to the nation has many faces. In 2025 I felt that truth anew while listening to Field Marshal Syed Asim Munir speak to newly commissioned officers. His address felt like a first “ghutti” to a newborn—simple, necessary, formative.
The Field Marshal’s speech was not mere ceremony. He praised discipline and professionalism and presented the Armed Forces’ history as a living record of sacrifice. He spoke with sober realism about recent trials and with firm confidence about victory—claiming that Pakistan’s defenders had neutralized threats, downed advanced assets, and displayed multi-domain capabilities. Above all he insisted on moral clarity: “You are the heirs of martyrs—live worthy of their memory.” That counsel framed commission as a covenant with history, family and the people.
He urged intellectual readiness alongside physical courage, lifelong learning, technological adoption, and vigilance against information disorder. “Do not become tools and victims of Information Disorder,” he warned. For me—who once faced rejection in selection boards—those lines were both humbling and elevating. The speech condensed national sacrifice, modern warfare’s complexity, and the intimacy of personal duty into lessons small enough to carry in a breast pocket.
My adolescent dream had sought the thrill of flight and the pride of uniform. The Field Marshal taught me to revere the larger enterprise: preserving a nation’s dignity and life. Service can be worn in many guises—civil servants, journalists, scholars, parents and soldiers all weave the same national fabric. His call that nothing is holier than the people’s safety and that defense is the most binding duty resonated deeply. He spoke of Pakistan’s renewed stature, its peacekeeping role, and the duty to stand by oppressed brethren from Kashmir to Palestine.
Those early refusals are now blessings. They redirected me to serve differently but no less devoutly: to witness, to record, and to exhort. Leadership, the Field Marshal’s address taught, is less about orders and more about forging conscience. If destiny denied me the cockpit, it gave me a higher vantage: to listen and to urge others to answer the call. May soldiers and civilians alike rise to that summons. Pakistan Armed Forces Zindabad. Pakistan Hameesha Paindadabad.
Muhammad Mohsin Iqbal serves as the Director General (Research) at the National Assembly Secretariat, Parliament House, Islamabad. With extensive experience in legislative research and policy analysis, he brings a deep understanding of South Asian politics, Indo-Pak relations, and information warfare. His writings critically examine regional conflicts, propaganda narratives, and leadership dynamics, with a focus on promoting peace, stability, and cooperation in South Asia.













