From: The Grave. To: My Nation

15 Jul

I am a Pathan

My family lives in Swat, I came to Karachi looking for work without knowing anyone in this big city, I started my struggle 6 months ago. Back in Swat I have a family, a pretty wife and four children. I want to send my children to school but really can’t afford it.

Economy in Swat is bad; there is no work due to which I came to Karachi. They say it’s a big city and everybody gets something or the other to their Naseeb. Well I came here to try my Naseeb too.

After a lot of struggle my life was finally settling down. I learnt how to drive rickshaw from my friend whom I share a small jhuggi with. He helped me out renting a rickshaw and since two months dropping people from one place to another became my daily routine.

This month for the first time I had saved some money for my family in swat. I told my wife that soon bad days would be over and eventually I would return back to her and start a small chai ka dhabba in swat.

I was going back to my Jhuggi after dropping my customers to a nearby location when They came on to my rickshaw and forcefully stopped it.

They looked at me with fierce anger in their eye and I thought what could I have possibly done. They started beating me up and throwing fuel at my rickshaw. I screamed for help but no one came and in no time my rickshaw was set on fire

I tried to get out but they would beat me even after setting me on fire with my rickshaw , I was so much in pain that I  eventually gave up.

They fled when I had no strength left in me, They fled when I stopped screaming for help. The fled when I had nothing left in me. I just wanted to ask why they did this to me.

After they left some people came and put a blanket on me but it was too late. Ambulance came and put me in grave with lots of other dead bodies.

On TV channels today they say 20 people died and I was one of them.

I was a number . Can you please tell that to my wife.

 I am a Mahajir

Its been 8 months since my graduation but this big city has no jobs. Everyday, I get up and drop dozens of resumes to various places but I don’t get any callbacks.

My dad passed away a year ago, I have 3 sisters after me. My mother keeps on saying that my sisters are my responsibility.

Getting a well-paid job is next to impossible in this big city but I had to begin so I started for looking small paid jobs and today was my lucky day. They are opening a franchise and  wanted well speaking waiters, I thought lets get started from somewhere.

I was going home at night thinking what will I tell my mom about the job. I thought I would just let her know that I have found work without mentioning my work place because she has huge expectations from me.

It was an unusual night, too silent for the big city I wanted to catch a rickshaw but then my pocket dint allow me so I decided to walk when I heard gunshots. There were crazy gunshots all around me and I had no place to hide. I tried to run as fast as I can and hid near tree when I felt something at my back, as I touched my back I felt my hands getting wet. It was blood, I was shot.

I was caught in between a crazy crossfire and as I hid behind the tree I could still hear gun shot all around me. There was no one to help and nowhere to run. I sat there and waited for the insanity to end help but it never did.

I bled out to death.

After hours the police came and took my body away. My body is kept with 10 more bodies and the TV at the police station is reporting I died with along with 20 people in the city.

I am a number, can you please tell that to my mother



4 Responses to “From: The Grave. To: My Nation”

  1. aliasimkazmi July 15, 2011 at 3:10 pm #

    very well written and it does give goosebumps ..

  2. Faheem Ahmed July 18, 2011 at 10:27 am #

    You have indeed pointed to a very important and thought-provoking aspect of this controversial issue. We always seem to focus on the people who were responsible for all such events, and tend to ignore the ones who faced collateral damage. Hoping to hear a lot more from you soon.

  3. toobaniazi July 19, 2011 at 1:31 pm #

    Touching, and thought provoking. 🙂

  4. Project July 21, 2011 at 12:13 am #

    From: The Grave.
    To: My Nation
    Subject: Only the dead of seen the end of misery

    What an apropos title. This story repeats daily, from Palestine to Pakstan, and from Iraq to Afghanistan. In fact, it repeats daily all across the ‘arc of crisis’ in the ‘global zone of percolating violence’.

    And its analysis defies rational logic. Why is it so?

    Is there a systemic disease of which, what you narrate in your article, is but a symptom, a boil on the beautiful bride’s face disfiguring her for life?

    Perhaps The Paksitan Decapitation Papers may lend some insight into that systemic disease. I leave a link to it below, fyi. Thank you for a poignant narrative.

    Best wishes,

    Zahir Ebrahim

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