It was a fine morning. I sat on the dining table to eat breakfast with my mother. Making an innocent face, I tried to convince Ammi if I could skip school today. I didn’t want to go. I just didn’t feel like. Something was holding me back. I wanted to stay at home or perhaps, play in the nearby park. I didn’t want to go to school.
“Ali, I will make you your favorite pasta today”, she said, with a big smile. I loved her smile. Her smile would always make my day. I couldn’t refuse. I didn’t insist further. She handed me my lunchbox and gave me tight little hug. I didn’t want to leave her. That hug just seemed even more comfortable today, at that very moment. I felt safe in her arms.
The school bus arrived. We said Allah Hafiz to each other. I headed toward the bus. I was anxious. I had never felt so demotivated. I liked studying. I was a good student. I liked doing the addition and subtraction problems in Mathematics. I loved reading Roald Dahl stories during my English class. Today, I wasn’t that excited. Every part of me was trying to avoid school. I couldn’t understand what was wrong.
At 10.00 am, I was in my English class. I enjoyed that class the most. My teacher asked us to write an essay on any topic. I wrote it on our country ‘Pakistan’. I mentioned in that essay how proud I am to be a Pakistan. I wrote how I loved my country so much. I also wrote about the promise I once made to myself that I will be a doctor one day, serve my own countrymen and release them from any pain that they are suffering from.
I got up from my seat, proud of the fact that I was the first one to complete my essay like I did in every English class. While heading towards my teacher’s table to get my essay checked, there was a sudden blast. We were all in shock. It was something beyond our imagination. The entire classroom was in a state of utter chaos. We stayed at our places, standing still.
I could see fear on my teacher’s face. However, she seemed to know well. She was able to comprehend the barbarity of the situation. She mustered up all the courage and told all of us to hide ourselves under our tables. She ran towards the door so that she could lock it. I could hear the footsteps. My friend, Ahmed, was in tears. I had never seen him in such a pain. He was scared. I was scared as well. So were the other 19 boys in my classroom.
As my teacher approached the door, the man with a long brown beard dressed up in the military uniform pushed the door open so hard that she fell down. I wanted to help her. I wanted to shout out of my lungs. I could feel tears rolling down my cheeks invariably. I wanted to end this. I was confused. I was scared. I was angry. This ambivalence of feelings made no sense at all. The man hit her and she got injured. For a moment, I wanted the world to stand still. I wanted to end this.
The man, rather a monster, started shooting my classmates. I felt helpless. They were bleeding to death. I saw them crying out in pain. I was looking at them in disbelief. Never did I feel so helpless. And then, in a moment of a second, all of a sudden, I felt the bullet penetrating through my body. Those ruthless monsters shoot me twice on my legs. It hurt. It hurt so badly. I was numb. I couldn’t move. The pain was excruciating. I heard someone groaning in pain. It was Ahmed. I could see the whole room with bodies, some dead, some numb in pain. I couldn’t differentiate. It was heart-rending to see all of them in pain.
I could see my teacher. She was dead. They shot her as well. Her clothes were all grubby and drenched in blood. My mind was engulfed in rage. My stomach turned to ice. I saw the man, looking around if he missed any one. How could he be so cruel? What did we ever do to him? His eyes were death-like. Devoid of emotions. He was heartless. He rushed outside.
I tried to lift myself. I tried to see if I could help anyone. I couldn’t move. I realized, everyone in that classroom was dead. My heart broke into a million pieces. I wanted to cry. I didn’t want to live either. Seeing everyone in such agonizing state, I lost hope. My dreams were shattered. My green uniform pants were soaked in blood. What’d my Ammi say? Will I ever be able to see her? Will I ever be able to see my Abbu? I tried to crawl. My legs were broken. Somehow I managed to hide myself under my teacher’s desk. I laid down there. I was helpless and hopeless.
The cries of my fellow students were echoing in the entire premises. I could hear the men reciting ‘La ilaha illallah Muhammadur Rasulullah‘, followed by continuous shooting. It was like a battlefield.
I stayed there for the next hour. The pain was killing me. I wished, Ammi wouldn’t have let me go to school. I started hating it. I was paralyzed with fear. I didn’t know if I will be alive till the next hour. I didn’t know if my parents would ever know about the situation I was in. I wanted to close my eyes, rewind the last two hours and start over. I was weeping continuously. The blood was scattered all over the place. The place which I loved the most. The place where I was supposed to learn. The place where I met my best friend. The place which was once a peaceful one. It was all over. Everything was destroyed. All I wanted, in that very moment, was to lie down in my Ammi’s lap and think about nothing. I wanted to feel safe. The way I felt when I hugged her before leaving for school in the morning.
I was losing energy. I was lifeless. The pain was getting severe. I was losing blood. I wanted someone to come, end this misery and the pain and take me home. Someone did. The same man. That very ruthless monster. He saw me moving. He shot me. He did end my misery and the pain, but he didn’t take me home. There and then, I closed my eyes. I fell in the ever-lasting sleep. A peaceful one. Where there are no monsters like the ones who killed us all. I was in a new world now, away from my parents. I miss them already. But maybe, all what happened, was for good.
I am sorry, Ammi and Abbu, if the news will make you cry. I am sorry for putting you in such grief. I want you not to worry. I am in a better place. For now, just know that I am a young martyr. Be proud of that. We will meet, one day. Till then, Allah Hafiz.
