I am mother Pakistan, I sent my sons to
school and they did not come back.
Growing so quick, taller than Mama, taller
than Sissy and taller than Papa; with a grin on his face, he looked at all.
Father smiled and felt suddenly younger and stronger looking at a son now taller
than him.
Not knowing his strength, his hugs grew
stronger and made his sister cringe. He was so energetic but his heart was
little and his brain was still growing. He was a child; he was still a baby, though
his body was changing and he was getting moody at times.
His sister screamed when he held her tight,
and the father sided with the daughter as fathers always do. He sulked and
looked at the mother who just smiled reassuringly but decided to keep quiet.
“No one cares”, he was sullen and left for
school without any breakfast. Mother touched his forehead and asked anxiously
if he was okay; he lowered his gaze and just nodded. He moved to the door, and
then turned suddenly to say, “love you, Mama” with a smile on his face. And a
mother would breathe the words “Maan sadqay” in response.
My sons went to school and did not come
back.
Father slouched with sorrow and his lips
moving silently “surely we belong to Allah and him shall we return”. He was
their strength and he is gone; sister collapsing to the floor and he is not
there to stop her falling. Mother is going insane and difficult to restrain, she
must not touch him; he is ready for his final journey.
My sons went to school and did not come
back; I look at the sky and it is so dark. Where are the stars I would like to
see?
I know that they are in a better place; no one
can harm them there. It does not reassure me; the sky is so dark.
My heart is stone and is not beating, I am not
living but I am still breathing.
My sons went to school and did not come
back.
My heart is bleeding; let it bleed. The
scar will burst open if it healed; let it bleed, just let it bleed.
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