Proud to be a Pakistani

I just read this on the BBC website. It fills my heart with pride on being a Pakistani.

Night has fallen on Muzaffarabad after an Eid celebration unlike any in this city's history. On a traditional day of festivity and family reunions, almost every household is in mourning - the pain of losing loved ones to last month's quake has never felt sharper.

As the laptop link-up got under way this morning, the participants, homeless and bereaved, said they had nothing to celebrate.

At midday, we left the BBC camp and returned to the places these people now call home - dusty encampments on the outskirts of the city.

It was here, amid the colour and squalor of hundreds of families forced into close proximity, that a festive spirit became apparent.

Children milled around our equipment, many wearing their smartest clothes. Mothers sat in tents, washing and dressing their offspring.

Men approached to offer Eid greetings, others seized my hand insisting I visit their tents and meet their families.

At first I thought they wanted to show me the adversity in which they lived - but on arriving at the tents, I discovered the motive was no more than hospitality.

Tea and sweets were conjured for the guest. The only lament I heard was that I had not visited Muzaffarabad two months ago, before the quake took their homes away.

I returned to the BBC base after dusk. As the evening chill set in, I wondered how long such a warm-hearted people could survive the Himalayan winter homeless.