By Dr Aaqib Rashid
CHAPTER 1
The earth smelled of rain while the flowers; violet, pink and red, danced to the music of the falling rain drops. The trees, all soaked, appeared fresh and the birds chittered in a chorus, singing melodies. The rain had come as a respite after a long spell of heat and everything looked as dynamic as ever, except Zeba! She kept staring from the window, the paint of which had aged, so had the wood that it was made of and the iron grills that stood guard for the glasses but Zeba, as it appeared, had aged faster!
The smile that once brightened the whole house had vanished. She appeared dead, just like the old lantern that hung by a nail in the wooden pillar of her room. She hoped and she waited! The only thing that got her attention recurrently was the main gate that separated the lawn of her home from the narrow street. Every time she heard the sound of the gate opening, her otherwise listless eyes would come to life hoping that her son had returned. A few moments later, the cruel reality would dawn upon her and it was then that she would weep until there were no more tears left in her eyes, holding firmly onto one of the shirts of her son while mumbling his name 'Aamir' a countless time, in a frail voice which eventually would ebb away but her gaze looked as though it was interminable and eternal!
I always wondered what went through her mind. In all likelihood, she thought about the day her only child was born. She probably remembered how her family members had attempted to carry her to the hospital on a bullock cart in the middle of that December night while it snowed heavily. The cart did not move even after a lot of effort and she had to be taken back into her room while she wailed in pain as a traditional midwife attended to her. Her yelling continued to get louder while her husband tried to encourage her. The sweat on her forehead indicated the gravity of the exertion and she held on to her husband's arm as securely as she could. She let out a loud scream and then she let out a sigh of relief. Aamir was born! The main gate opened once again and she was woken from her daydreaming. She looked at the gate, stood up and shouted her son's name a few times and then with a loud thud, she fell on the floor, unconscious!
CHAPTER 2
As a young boy, like many others, Aamir would attend tuition classes with his friends during winters. Outside his house, leading to the main road, was a tapered passageway that his friends would whistle to him from. The whistling would indicate many things! If it were a normal day, it would be a call for tuitions. The whistles would grow louder with each passing minute and would be accompanied by incomprehensible shouting, asking him to hurry up. The way to the tuition center was through a long stretch of fields that would mostly be submerged in a thick carpet of snow while the vegetation below it tried to crawl its way through the layers of this white blanket. It was that time of the year when they would bombard each other with the balls of snow carefully carved out by their bare hands. As the first snowball hit somebody, a war would break out and there would be snowballs flying from every direction. The war would not stop till their faces went pale and their hands froze due to the chill. It was then that a ceasefire would be declared and they would congregate. His friends had found an unorthodox way of trouncing the freezing cold - cigarettes! They would call it an panacea for all the predicaments. Be it the chill of the winter, the pressure of exams or the depression after a heartbreak, cigarettes were a quick fix to everything, they would proclaim. He would carry with himself, under his pheran, the traditional kangri to kill the chill of the winter. Kangri served the other purpose too. It was the safest way to light up the cigarette since a matchbox or a lighter, if found in his pockets, could arouse suspicion. There were a few things that they would follow all the time. One, everyday a different person among the group would go to fetch the cigarettes. Two, the cigarettes were to be bought from different shopkeepers making sure that the shopkeeper did not recognize any of them. Third, buying chewing gums to make sure that they did not smell of cigarettes at home. They would exhale near their friends to enquire if their breath smelled of cigarettes and ask each other to sniff to see if their clothes smelled of cigarettes and once all of them were satisfied, they would head towards their homes.
Not all of his friends smoked. There were a few non-smokers too. When advised by them to give up smoking, he would reply, "This is just a cigarette not any drug or alcohol, everyone smokes, even my father does. This is not as bad as people make it look. It is just a cigarette. You should try it too, it sharpens your brain with all the nicotine in it." While he said so, he would exhale the cloud of smoke first through his nose and then his mouth trying to make various shapes out of it. To add to the miseries of his friends, they could not argue with him since he excelled in studies in their comparison. He always won the argument and to celebrate it, he would light one more cigarette and then one more! But he was not a smoker from the beginning. Him taking to smoking goes back a few years, the time he had fallen in love at school!
Aamir then was a young boy with a slender body giving him a tall appearance. His face was thin with prominent jaw bones, somewhat protruding nose and his eyes brown. His hair short, separated in two unequal parts by a fine line combed on one of the sides of his head rather than in the middle. His beard with a few hairs here and there, was barely there while his moustache was noticeable. Aisha was a year junior to Aamir in school. They lived in the same village. Aamir even though was quite reluctant to express his love but every now and then, he would drop hints for her to understand. In the morning, he would wait in a street, a few meters away from Aisha's home, making sure that he is not spotted and once Aisha stepped out of her home for school, he would follow her right to the school. In the evening, he alongwith his friends would follow Aisha's group. This was an everyday routine. His friends would tease him by calling Aisha's name while she was nearby, making him turn crimson and all he could afford was a wry smile and a few abuses. But deep down, he liked it. He didn't have the guts to give voice to his feelings for her, so he knew that teasing by his friends was the best way to let her know that he liked her. Times changed, so did the seasons and the years and his love for her increased day by day and it finally came to a point where he decided to confess his love to her.
That spring day, while the sun had managed to crawl its way through the clouds, the trees had turned a little more greener and the flowers had appeared in all colours, he decided to get dressed in a brand new school uniform that his father had bought. He made sure that the white shirt did not get any stain marks while he ironed it. He matched the tie having white and green stripes with the dress and it brought a smile on his face. As he polished his shoes, he kept humming a song that he had heard on the radio the other day. Once he was ready, he looked at the mirror once more and carefully adjusted his hair with the comb. He searched the pockets of his pants for a piece of paper and once he found it, he opened it, smiled and put it inside the pocket of his shirt and left. He started his nervous walk to the school. That day strangely, he did not wait for Aisha in the morning and walked straight to the school. He was talking to himself that day while on his way to school. Sometimes, he waved his arms, nodded his head and let out a beaming smile while at other times, he would suddenly stop, think for a minute and then resume his walk. He was probably thinking about all the things that he would say to Aisha later that evening. At the school that day, he appeared immersed in his own thoughts, daydreaming! He was waiting for the school to end so that he could pour his heart out to Aisha. The bell finally rang and the school was over. Before leaving the classroom, he rubbed his shoes with a piece of cloth to remove all the dust. He then took out the bottle of water from his bag, poured a few drops on the palm of his hand and rubbed it on to his hair. While he left the classroom, he reached into the pocket of his shirt, took out the paper, looked at it, folded it back carefully and put it inside the pocket. He didn't smile this time like he had in the morning. He was nervous!
The route to Aisha's home was through a dusty road which formed one of the banks of a canal. The road was surrounded on both the sides by long poplars while the sound of the water gushing through the canal made the otherwise lonely road sound lively. He saw Aisha walking towards her home with her friends like she would every day. He walked briskly, reached right beside the group and could hear them giggling about something. Before he could actually figure out what he should say, he called her name, Aisha! She turned her head, looked at him in surprise and after a few moments, resumed her walk. He called her name again and not knowing what he should say, he took out the piece of paper from his pocket, handed it over to her while his hands trembled and drops of sweat appeared on his forehead. She took the paper and put it inside her bag while the girls from the group wore an astonished look on their faces. Aamir didn't utter a single word and swiftly went away, shivering and confused! It didn't go as he had intended it to be. He had practised all the words and sentences throughout the day but then he could not utter a single word but never the less, he had handed her the piece of paper that he had written for her. The mission, in a sense, had been accomplished!
That evening, as he sat around with his friends, he appeared to be in a state of dreamy abstraction as if something inside his mind was perturbing him. He probably was not sure if he had done the right thing by expressing his love to Aisha or maybe he distraught about how she had felt about it. He wasn't his usual self. He was quiet and appeared oblivious of everything that his friends did. The thought of spending that night alone disturbed him. He knew that the night was going to be long and tough. Suddenly, he got up and started to leave while his friends were left flabbergasted by his atypical behaviour. They called him multiple times to enquire about the reason of his sudden exit from the place but he kept on going away from them as if he was sleep-walking!
That evening, he hurriedly ate the dinner and went into his room. While he reclined there on the bed, he had a million things messing up his mind. It was not as easy as he had thought it would be. It wasn't a movie, he realized and he started doubting his decision. He gawked at the ceiling of his dimly lit room while he tossed a rubber ball to one of the walls over and over again. While he did that, all he could think about was the look on the face of Aisha when he had handed her that paper. He knew he had messed up and the very thought of it kept him from sleeping that night. Tender age, tender love!
The next morning as he walked to school, he saw Aisha from a distance and didn't dare to go anywhere near her. He slowed down his steps and occasionally kneeled down as if to tie his shoe-laces which were already tied. He occasionally untied his tie, then halted randomly at some place and began wearing his tie again. He wanted to be as far from her as possible and once his other methods didn't seem to work, he decided to take the longest route to school that day to avoid any confrontation with her. The longest route was a metallic road fenced on both the sides by long queues of the lofty chinar trees. He remembered how as a child his father would point to one of those chinars with the hollow trunk and tell him that a ghost lived there who took away the naughty kids. He carefully walked towards the school on one of the sides of the road, away from that scary chinar tree, as the vehicles passed by. The school was built on one of the banks of a river. It had three large buildings each coloured differently. The largest one facing the road was painted cherry-red, the other one was white and the smallest of the three was painted green. A large playground separated the red building from the other two. It was in this playground that the students would meet for the daily morning assembly. The entrance of the school was through a large metallic gate guarded by the gatekeeper. As he reached at the entrance of the school, he became a part of the long customary queue and while he waited for his turn to enter, he could feel someone staring at him from one of the windows of the red building. As soon as he looked towards the window, the staring eyes were no more there and while he could think about anything, a loud shout from the gate keeper, asking him to enter, disturbed him and he moved ahead into the school.
That day while he was playing cricket with his friends during the lunch break, a familiar voice called his name. As he looked, he could see Aisha's elder sister. "Yes ma'am", he stuttered as he could barely talk. While he could say anything else, a loud slap right across his face made him shiver and lower his gaze. She then pointed towards a piece of paper asking, "What is this? Is this what you learn in school?" Once he lifted his head up to look at the paper while tears rolled down his cheeks, a second slap made him bow down his head again as he sobbed. While he looked down, he could see the pieces of paper falling on the ground. The words that he had written with all the love for Aisha were flying everywhere and then dropping to the ground. He fell on his knees as he cried out loud, picked up the pieces, looked at them and put them inside his pockets. He cried not only because he felt heartbroken but because he felt insulted. Afterall, he had been slapped twice in the playground of his school with a hundred people watching.
He was not used to this treatment. In fact, he was considered the brightest student of the school. That place where he had been slapped was the same place where he had received numerous medals and certificates as a recognition of his excellence in studies. Just the thought of him being humiliated there made him weep even more, inconsolably. He got up, wiped away his tears and left the spot. That evening while he was on his way back home, he along with his friends sat by the edge of the bank of the canal, took out the little leftovers of the paper, tried to read each one of them before tossing them into the canal one by one. As he sat there that evening, his friends tried to talk to him but he kept staring at his image in the water below throwing all the bits of paper that were left. Finally, he put his hand on the shoulder of one of his friends, got up, pointed towards the fields and started walking while his friends followed. He then walked to an isolated piece of land, densely populated by trees through which the sunlight barely passed. The place was desolate and as if in pain just like Aamir's heart. He looked for a drier place to sit. Not finding any, he took the two bricks lying nearby and sat on them. "Light me a cigarette", he said and his friends looked at each other's faces in absolute shock while one of them shouted, "What? You asking for a cigarette? Are you even....." While he could say any other thing, Aamir's voice interrupted, "Light it or I am leaving", he said in a fierce tone. His friend handed him a cigarette and as he put it between his lips, he lit it with a lighter and started puffing. His friends, still in disbelief, failed to come to terms with what had just transpired but none of them dared to say a word. While Aamir exhaled the puffs of smoke into the heart of the darkness that evening, he knew his life had changed but he was yet unaware of the tragic turns that life had in store for him!
The school no more felt the same. He started skipping school with his friends and during the day, they smoked cigarettes at their safe-haven. In the evening, they played cricket till the sun made a way for the moon and the cricket ball was no more visible. It was then that they would call it a day and head to their homes. This was their new routine except on the days it rained, carrom would replace cricket and they smoked a few more cigarettes! While he stuck to his new routine, he knew that year was a crucial one for him. The board exams were around the corner and he had everyone's hopes pinned on him to do exceedingly well. The month of exams brought with itself a lot of stress and he stuck to his way of killing it - smoking a lot more. With his father away for duties and his mother always engaged in household chores, he didn't need to worry about being caught smoking. His room was a mess. The bed, as it appeared, had not been made in ages. There were clothes, books, papers and other items scattered here and there with no empty inch left. On one of the walls of the room was a painting of a boy sitting on the bank of the river while a boat made its way through the water. One the other wall was pasted a sticker of guitar. In one of the corners lay an encyclopedia and a Limca book of records that his father had bought him. It was from that encyclopedia that he had read about his favorite species- the snakes. In the other corner was a chair that was barely visible due to all the clothes it had on it. Adjacent to the chair was a table draped in a white cloth which had gathered dust just like the curtains of the room. The room was dimly lit and the presence of smoke made it even worse. His friends would famously call it the 'Hitler's gas chamber'. As the door opened, a gush of smoke would come out of the room into the corridor as the fresh air tried to make its way into the room. Despite all the bad things the room had, it was his favorite place to study for exams. The exams lasted for a month and they went well. Not as well as he had expected, but not too bad either! Now, started the anxious wait for the results which were more than a month away.
CHAPTER 3
A sudden loud scream woke Aamir up from sleep. He at first took no notice of it but as the screams got louder, he listened anxiously. Rubbing his eyes, he tried hard to find the switch to turn on the lamp but he failed. He then reached out for an old torch that was kept near the window. He picked up the torch, pressed its switch but it would not turn on. He banged the torch on to his bed twice as the screams outside grew louder! He tossed the torch onto the bed, got up and turned on the switch of the lamp. He was disquieted by all the squallimg outside and without even dressing properly, he ran out towards the door. As the door opened, the screams got deafening and before he could enquire about anything, he saw his mother lying on the floor unconscious with a flock of people around her. As he went closer, he saw the body of his father, lying in a pool of blood. He had been attacked by unknown gunmen as he was making his way towards the mosque for early morning prayers. His eyes were now wide open, his hands trembling and his whole body shook as he cried out, "Papa". The bullets had hit him right in the chest. He was dead! He swept his hand across the face of his father and reached up to his forehead and kissed it. Strangely, he had no tears in his eyes while all this was going around him. He probably didn't believe it to be true. He thought it was a bad dream. He got up and went to her mother, who lay there, still unconscious. He called her a few times while he resuscitated her trying to bring her back to consciousness. He sprinkled water over her face but she didn't respond. He was getting increasingly anxious now as he tried to resuscitate her once again. He sprinkled her face with water and this time he could see her eyes blinking. As he pressed her chest one more time, she opened her eyes, let out a huge cry before passing out again!
The light tried to creep from behind the darkness while the dogs barked at a distance. The morning prayers had just concluded and the people were busy persuading the Almighty as can be heard on the loudspeakers. Aamir looked at his father’s body for one last time before it was draped in white from head to toe. A huge crowd of people followed Aamir and three other men who shouldered the coffin reciting verses and religious hymns. As the body was lowered into the grave, it was then that Aamir, who until then appeared to be unaware of everything, started crying inconsolably. He was not in a dream, after all! The reality was harsh and he could no longer shy away from it. He then picked up a handful of mud and put it over the white cloth that his father was draped in as if to say the final goodbye! Aamir was orphaned!
Back home, his mother was struggling to come to terms with what had happened that night. Aamir now had a huge responsibility as his life had changed drastically. He could no more be like all the young boys of his age around him. The life ahead was going to be tough and he understood it well! He was not alone though. His friends were with him in that hour of grief. They would attend to the guests, relatives and all other people who visited his home. They would do the household chores and other activities making sure that they played their part.
This was a time when some of his friends had started indulging in substance abuse apart from smoking. One of them, Abrar, was lured into drug addiction by some relative of his who claimed the drugs to be calming and soothing Abrar then went on to lure two more of his friends, Nasir and Parvez. Abrar had tried the drug the day his teacher had paraded him semi-naked in front of the whole class for bad-mouthing a boy who allegedly had spread a few horrible rumors including him being a habitual bed-wetter. Nasir owned a motorcycle, one on which he would perform stunts. He, while on his way to Ladakh that fateful day, had lost control of his vehicle while performing stunts and had rammed it into a huge rock. He had lost his eye and a few fingers of his hands in the accident. He would always be depressed about his looks and he was, therefore, an easy prey. Once he was convinced by Abrar that the drugs were going to make him feel better about himself, he took them without a second thought. Parvez had just tried the substance a few times out of sheer curiosity not knowing that it was a web he was weaving around himself, a web that once you get stuck in, there is no way out!
A few days after his father's death, the results had been declared. Abrar and Parvez had failed, Nasir had barely managed to pass while surprisingly, though Aamir had passed, his performance was decimal by his standards. Skipping school had taken a toll on his performance and the result was a testimony to it. As if his father's loss was not enough, the results had rubbed salt on his wounds. He immersed his head into his lap and broke down, his sobs audible. His friends tried to console him by putting the blame on examiners and paper-setters, which was a usual practice! Nasir hurled a few abuses at them while Abrar got up, started making weird movements as if putting the abuses into action. Aamir stood there with his eyes still moist with tears. His emotions ran high and that was exactly when he was vulnerable.
Abrar hesitatingly handed over a bottle to him asking him to close his eyes and gulp it down. Nasir looked at Parvez and they both looked at Abrar and finally, all three of them had their gazes fixed on Aamir. Aamir took the bottle into his right hand, looked at it and read something that was written over it while his left hand held the small lid that covered the bottle. Finding Aamir confused and reluctant, Nasir said, "You don't need to take it if you don't want to, it is completely......", his words were cut short when Aamir suddenly gulped down the liquid and handed the bottle back to Abrar. A combination of emotions and a bad company had got better of him. Had he known about the devastation that was going to follow, he probably would have thought a million times before consuming that thing. He had just set foot on a horrible journey and the worst was yet to come!
Many moons later, on a pleasant spring evening, while everyone in the village had reached their homes after the last prayer of the day and were getting ready for dinner, the noise of the loudspeaker of the mosque caught everyone's attention. This wasn't a time for Azaan, everyone thought. While the guess work started in every household, a voice on the loudspeaker had everyone all ears. "The donation box of the mosque in a nearby village has been looted by some miscreants. All are therefore advised to be vigilant and report any unusual activity around their homes to the welfare committee members." Everyone in their homes turned down the volume of their TV sets and Radios as the announcement was repeated a few more times. A few days later, a similar announcement echoed from the mosque of a different village and more days later, a school had been broken into. One of the small cases that usually had the cash collected as school fee was stolen. Luckily, it had no cash inside it that night. The case was found in a broken condition near the canal on the way to the school. Even though the police were called in and an attempt to take the finger prints was made but it didn't succeed. The miscreants were on a prowl and nobody had any idea about any of them.
The summer had come and the fields were all golden. The paddy crop that year was good thanks to frequent downpours from the heavens. The harvest season was in full swing. The harvest season meant one more thing - while the people worked all day in the scorching heat, they were likely to get tired and fall asleep soon. This is what the gang of miscreants wanted. It gave them a good chance to loot while the village was asleep. They had their eyes on the next target- The Jamia Masjid. The Masjid was located in the heart of the village. It got donations from all the village and therefore, looting its donation box meant nothing less than a lottery. The substances that they consumed did not let them think straight. For them, it least mattered whether the place was a mosque, a temple or an ordinary house. Their minds were messed up and all they wanted was money to buy the next dose of their drugs. The plan was made but they knew the donation box was not an easy one to take away. The mosque was surrounded on all sides by residential houses and the box was well protected, well at least for the villagers it appeared so. After the theft in the other village, this donation box had been made apparently even safer by covering it in another box made of iron so that it became heavier to lift and its lock could not be tampered with.
On a night when the stars hid behind the clouds, the moon played hide and seek with the clouds and the whole village was asleep, two boys with their masks which were cut carefully such that only their eyes and the lips were visible, entered through the gate of the mosque and walked straight towards the box holding rods made of iron in their hands. The other two boys after turning off all the street lights nearby, stood guard outside the gate looking in opposite directions. The night was silent and dark except for the occasional howling of foxes at a distance and three lamps that stood in a line on top of the mountain that were visible from the spot. The two boys tried one after the other repeatedly to break open the shield of the box but to no avail. They decided to try it together for one last time. As they tried to break open the box with force, a large piece of iron broke off from the box and hit one of them hard on his head and he could not control his scream. As he screamed, the others knew their plan had been messed up. The other two boys rushed towards their injured partner as they heard the screams of "Thieves, Thieves, near the mosque. Get them, Get them". He was bleeding profusely. They knew there was no time for the first aid so they took off his mask and asked him to press it tightly against the wound. While he did that, they started running as fast as they could as the villagers started rushing towards the mosque. Whole village had been woken up and therefore, running onto the road was no option. They kept running though and reached near a narrow street that led to the vast fields. One of the boys whispered something into the ear of other and took a right turn and kept running while the other three entered into the narrow street and proceeded towards the vast fields carefully walking with their knees bent to make sure that no part of their body was visible above the paddy crop. Meanwhile, the villagers reached near the box and finding it safe, they all felt relieved. Suddenly someone pointed towards the drops of blood on the ground, stretching from the box to the gate and further to the end of the road. With mutual consent, the villagers called the polic who took stock of the situation. Some people pointed out the blood on the ground but there was something else that caught the attention of the police. A piece of cloth hung by the edge of the gate. It had stains of fresh blood. It was probably of a shirt of one the boys which got stuck in the gate without him noticing as they were running away from the spot in a hurry.
As the villagers and the policemen stood there at the spot, a voice caught their attention. It was of a police officer who was leading the team. He said in a fierce tone, " We have to nab the culprits by morning, is that understood?" "Yes sir", replied the policemen. The officer continued, "We will make two teams, one team will follow the blood stains on the ground and see if they can lead us anywhere. The other team will get the dogs ready. This piece of cloth is surely going to take us to one of them. Both the teams will report to me. Is that clear?" "Yes sir", replied the policemen in a loud clear voice.
The three boys had managed to creep their way through the paddy fields to a place that was quiet and isolated. They sat there and felt relieved. After a few minutes, though the bleeding from the wound had stopped, he no longer could bear the excruciating pain, so the injured boy let out a small cry. There were no medicines available and they could not risk leaving that place at that hour of the night while everyone was looking for them. One of the boys took out a small bottle and a syringe. Even in the dark, he somehow managed to fill the syringe with the substance of the bottle and handed the syringe over to the injured boy. He carefully injected it into the vein of his left arm. The other boy filled two more syringes from the bottle, injected one into his own body and handed over one to his partner who did likewise. No one talked as they all were transformed into their own imaginary world and they rested there half-dead with bottles and syringes by their side.
One of the police parties followed the blood stains and reached the narrow street. With their bright torches, they examined the street thoroughly and the blood stains were visible. They moved their torches and could only find a vast stretch of paddy fields with no traces of a human. The search was going to be tough. They knew by morning, the criminals would be long gone, so they had little time left. They proceeded ahead towards the fields carefully examining everything on the way to look for any evidence. A few minutes of searching and they got one - a slipper in the mud, a few steps later, they found another one. But finding a pair of slippers was not enough so they kept searching. They reached a spot higher than the adjacent spots and ran their torches in all possible directions to look for clues. From there, they could see an isolated piece of land full of trees at a distance and they decided to head in that direction. A few minutes of walking towards that area, they got the biggest clue yet - a cloth shaped as a mask soaked in blood. They continued their careful walk and as they reached the spot, the beams of their torches illuminated the otherwise dead piece of land and there were the culprits, peacefully dreaming with their syringes and bottles scattered on the ground. Three of them were down!
The police-trained dogs had arrived and as they smelled the piece of cloth, they started barking and running. As they reached near the street, they stopped, sniffed a little more, turned right and kept running. They kept running for a few more minutes before eventually stopping at a gate. There they looked into the eyes of the policemen as if telling them that they had arrived at the right spot. The policemen looked around for some time searching for any more evidence as the dim morning light made its way piercing the heart of darkness. As they could find nothing, they knocked at the main gate repeatedly. One of the servants of the house opened the gate and before he could say a word, the policemen had already entered into the house guided by their dogs. Then started the furious knocking of the door of the room but no one responded. The policemen with no other option left, decided to break open the door. A few heavy blows on the door and it opened and came out a gush of smoke. The torch lights were on and as the light fell onto the bed, the servant screamed in utter incredulousness. There rested the body of Aamir with a syringe in one of his hands and a bottle in another. He didn't move even after a policeman repeatedly tried to wake him up. He was dead!
The villagers at first had decided to let Aamir’s mother bid the final goodbye to him but fearing that she would not be able to bear this loss after all the things she had gone through, the villagers accorded Aamir a quick funeral without her mother knowing. He was laid to rest right beside his father's grave.
Months passed since Aamir had died but his mother kept waiting for him at home right there in that room where she had given birth to him and from the window of which she would keep staring at the main gate for her son to return. One day, however, the main gate opened once more, but the eyes that would stare at it had been closed, forever!
By Dr Aaqib Rashid
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