*Justice| Peshawar Blasts* “Ammi, what have you given me for tiffin today?” “Hamid, I have given you your favourite biryani.” Hamid kissed his mother. “Thank You Ammi. I am going to finish my tiffin today.” Ammi put Hamid’s water bottle round his neck. “Now let’s rush to the bus stop. Otherwise you will miss your bus.” It was a daily routine for Maham to take her son to the bus stop and to pick him up from it. She’d often take biscuits, or buy Hamid some chocolate as they walked back home since he’d be famished by the time his school bus dropped him back. “Bye Ammi.” Hamid waved as the bus moved. Maham waved back until the bus wasn’t in sight anymore. Like any other day, Maham bought eggs and vegetables on her way back home. She was going to cook egg curry for Hamid. Maham was a divorcee. She’d take tuitions for income. Hamid was her only son and she doted on him. Her day would start and end with Hamid. Every day she’d wait for the clock to strike two when it was time for her to go to the bus stop to pick Hamid up. “Maham Aapi, switch on your television. Hamid’s school has been attacked by the terrorists.” Zahira, Maham’s neighbour screamed on the phone. Maham froze. “Ya. Allah. No, it can’t happen. Nothing can happen to my Hamid. I dopped him to school like an hour ago. I want to go to Hamid’s school now.” “Aapi, are you out of your mind? The army is fighting a battle in the school. What are you going to do there. They will kill you too?” But Maham wasn’t listening. She ran to the school, her eyes welling up with tears. ‘My son can’t be dead. My Hamid can’t be dead. You can’t do this to me God. I have prayed you day and night. You can’t do this to my Hamid. I will kill all the terrorists. If anything happens to my son, I’ll destroy them. You can’t let my Hamid die.’ Maham thought bitterly. After waiting for seven hours, when the army men started to come out with the dead bodies, Maham refused to look that way. “Hamid can’t die. Allah, protect him.” Maham told herself. When she turned around, she saw a charred body. The little shoes were so familiar. Screaming, Maham picked the body up. Hamid’s face was almost unrecognizable. His body had been charred. Hot tears blinded her. “Ya Allah! How can my Hamid die? How will I live? Kill me too. I don’t have anything left in my life.” Maham wailed; a cry which was lost in the multitude of sobs. Maham found Hamid’s bag. His little water bottle and his tiffin broke her. ‘He must have been so excited about the biryani’. She thought. Maham doesn’t have the courage to pick up all the broken pieces of her life and start from scratch. But she will do it anyway. She will do it for her little Hamid. She will live so that she sees her son get justice. She will smile so that Hamid smiles from heaven. It’s not going to be easy. She will miss Hamid’s warm hug and his toothless smile. This justice isn’t worth anything. This justice won’t bring back her Hamid. --Sreyasi Verma
Posted on: Wed, 17 Dec 2014 07:04:53 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015