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Humanity Burnt Alive On A National Highway!

By Muhammad Muzaffar

29 October, 2015
Countercurrents.org

Finally! I am free. I could hardly breathe but somehow I breathed my last. I was withering in pain, all unbearable since October 09, the day they petrol bombed my joyful tomorrow. Like a drone dropping peace-bringing (so called) bombs on a hopeful Afghani boy playing in his courtyard. A sharp-edged razor as thought it was, tearing my heart from inside and crushing my back. The images of cow saviors who burnt us alive are still alive. Still refusing to fade away like the dreadful darkness of a torture centre.

I had already realized right from my childhood that I was living in a burning paradise, where streets are often painted red by the cheap blood of my fellow countrymen. Where a green turf turns red as blood of innocent boys playing cricket spills over it. Where killing of an innocent bystander never satisfies the appetite of hunters. Where ‘Baarats’ and funerals enjoin to make a painful union. Where bullets, pellets and tear gas are fired to bring peace. But you know what? I too had learned that hard won art. The art of fighting it out and keep going to help my father and brothers. You know what? Abba Jaan is old now. Tired sunken eyes, with beard visibly white and dense wrinkles have gathered mercilessly over his honey colored forehead. But he was still doing labor to help the wheels keep running. As obliged I was also helping him to make the ends meet. Like you I was also young and harbored dreams in plenty, like the almond blooms of March. Even I was dreaming when they fractured it. Like the helping glasses of an old man. But I had never dreamt of such a wild one that unfolded a little later after they petrol bombed our sleep.

I was yet to realize the unpleasant knocking before they broke the windshield of our truck with a loud bang. Oh! They were like the soldiers of Abu Gureb, wild eyes burning in rage like lightening in a dark rainy night .Hands gripping huge Laathies filled the air with terror. And the terror refused to be the past. But soon they started celebrating like a tired hunter crew having discovered the hunt after a long tiring run. All alone and helpless. Since we knew the tunnel (of hope) was far away with tens of milestones. They eased out their anger by mouthing out abuses. And in between the hungry teeth shone emitting fear, ready to chew us.”No worries”, we thought. Oh! They did not stop here. Some dragged us out from the truck like cheap sheep while others set it ablaze. We were pleading and they were beating mercilessly as though they were the unforgiving deaf ghosts of hell. I received blows everywhere on my body, yet I believed it would suffice them perhaps. No! They were blood thirsty, I was unaware though. But they looked like humans. Then how could they ignore our cries? O dear mother! You affectionate and caring image hit me and I made my cries louder to make them listen. Aah!

But next….. Laathies came down heavier, UP DOWN UP DOWN UP….and no mercy. O mother! I am sure I did pierce the vast chest of sky but how could they ignore my heart wrenching pleas, when I was aching in pain. Were they really humans? O Mother! They flipped me and tore my clothes apart. A hope that I had somehow nestled in my wobbling heart faded like a half moon lost in clouds as one of them waved a petrol cane. Oh! No! How could he do the worst? Yes! They were hell bent to burn us to death, I feared. I was bathed in petrol yet I believed they will not do any further. Panic gripped me tight. I felt my throat full of thorns as I feared of fire and…….Oh! Oh No! “Khudayaa!” ,I cried for a miracle. But he lit it and he was not trembling even. Was he really a human? The next moment, I was in flames crying for rescue. But I was not in the land of humans perhaps. Then how could they laugh at me and derive joy out of my galloping flames?

I was waiting now, to die to get relieved as soon as possible. But Oh! It took me nine days and nine nights, with moments longing like freezing winters. But now I am not alone here. Like a star, born just in an old galaxy. Thousands of my countrymen, young and old and children too blow cool breeze to sooth my pain. I know that you and Abba jaan will have to confront the melancholic breaths now. Sorrowful days and Restless nights too. My burning images are printed everywhere on your bleeding heart. These will continue to devastate your rest and melt you from inside. But then in the valley of wolves you too are not alone!

Muhammad Muzaffar works in J&K Revenue Department and can be reached at:[email protected]




 

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