Liaquatabad. It sounds so familiar. After hearing this name I felt a nostalgic pain. Why so familiar? Something stabbed my bosom.
How can I forget that night? Liaqat Bagh, 27 December 2007; Mohtarma Benazir Bhutto is murdered. Same words with a different name appeared on the same news channel.
I was in Grade 7 at that time, and it was my first direct encounter with a massacre. I remember those shrieking flames, those unbearable sighs and unquenched pain which left marks on my ignorant soul. Along with this loss, I went on to witness several renowned murders via social media and television programs.
Every time it made me very upset for days and then days gradually decreased into moments due to the conditioning with everyday’s sudden deaths, as it is now a part of our culture. It seems that a lifecycle is injected in our society which contains death, condemnation and a drink to move on.
But this time, it is taking time. Time to digest the news, time to put words for condemnation and time to move on. Every time I close my eyes, I can see a peaceful smiling face, reciting some words of peace.
I was told by my father that Mohtarma was killed for political reasons. After all, she was a leading political personality. I digest it that may be politics want blood.
I witness death of Salmaan Taseer. Again a political face killed for religious prosperity.
Hundreds dead bodies of hazaras on the road scared me in my nightmares for a month may be, but life goes on.
Sabeen Mehmud. Why her? It was confusing for some days but I concluded that women are equal to men so there should be a part of them as well.
Mosques, Imam barghas, markets, offices and even houses of Abbas town were smashed but it is a part of evolutionary process, sect and politics with some social reforms are the main causes behind these deaths.
But then I was totally shattered with another incident which transformed my immunity into agony: 16th December 2014, attack on the unripe fruits of APS. Why those unaware cherries?
I was again in stressful struggle. My father told me that these terrorists have no religion; or a specie. They are not human even not animals.
Neither human nor animals, then what are they? Vampires, witches or other unholy souls, who like to suck the blood only? Blood of different sects, different occupations, different ages, different genders and different classes. And then I realized, we are vampire zoned and there is no superhero or Powerpuff girl to save the country. We as a nation are just admiring the injected life cycle of death, mourning and living again, waiting for our own turn.
I could not find the reason behind the macabre of APS; but time is a great healer. That incident was also buried under the sands of time but not completely.
A transgender named Alisha was killed brutally which moved me again despite several murders since the APS attack. Mission accomplished. men, women, children and now transgenders who are already in a struggle of identity crisis.
Everyone is equal in the eyes of religion and state then why not in front of terrorism?
My father told me about the blasphemy law when I asked him after the death of former governor Punjab. He said it is a law for the protection of Prophet’s prosperity.
It is said that Amjad Sabri is a victim of blasphemy. A man, who praises Prophet as a fundamental duty, how can he utter a word in disgrace? And what are the parameters of blasphemy? To serve humanity or to kill humanity? Again a question which puzzles me every time and my father has no answer for it.
Another motive behind his murder was to hit the peace of Karachi which is completely hilarious. Since I came into existence, Karachi’s existence was always shrouded by terrorism.
Today, I don’t know why I am crying, I was shouting hard like someone is pulling my heart out. Why now? You should have stopped after APS. I was consoling myself, but I realized that I am not good at it. I am tired; I would be immune to deaths, bloodsheds and pain. I would be used to it.
Since my consciousness I am inhaling these flames and I know it is burning my soul. I am trying hard to inhale my ashes back but I am worried about the time when it will start burning my surroundings and people would condemn me by saying
“Iss ghar ko aag lag gayi, ghar ke chiragh se”
But at this time I am just trying to quench this burning fire with my tears. I can’t forget that smiling face and lightening sparkles of his eyes. The person who was attributing some sense to mere Ramzan shows, who was praising religion with a melodious voice.
Yesterday he was cleansing our stained souls with the cascade of his beautiful Qawalis and today he is brutally killed in the City of Lights. City of Lights?
No, City of Deaths. A city that swallowed several pearls of my country. I am worried what if she starts puking?