“We are in a cantonment”
Gazain Baloch
Dust covered my eyes and everything went black. My injured elbow was extremely painful, I could feel that I was leaning against a wall, fizzy face was melting, feelings of fear made me half dead and from everything I could judged, we were in a dark room. Few minutes later, I tried hard to drag my half dead body but as I blinked, I could saw a hard thing against my left side.
“It could be my weapon, AK-47, the Russian made weapon,” I thought, looking to it.
“Thamochan, Thamochan! Can you hear me?” a high-pitch voice could be heard at a far distance.
I was named Thamochan by my father, Roodani. He was in army and fought in several wars in 1940s. He took part in guerrilla warfare in Algiers antagonism of Francis government for emancipation, and he was serving as a guerrilla commander in Cuban guerrilla warfare against imperialistic America. After creating Cuba a sophisticated and free nation, he left for Kurdistan for the aim of assisting Kurd fighters in getting their national and territorial rights, but unfortunately he left everyone in trauma when he was shot in head by unknown man their in Kurdistan.
“Yes, yes!” I replied.
“It’s me, Daad Jan.”
“Oh! Thanks God. Are you alright?” I took a deep breath and tried to relax. Daad Jan is my inseparable colleague and we have a strong relation in terms of brotherhood.
Few hours later, everything calmed to their primal position. Floor was utterly covered with pebbles, cracked wall was banged up, and I checked on everything.I was confused what had happened?
I could see Daad lighting up a cigarette; he smoked and looked around.
“Daad! Are we safe here or not? We have to move quickly. I do not like gloomy rooms,” I said looking at him with a fearsome face.
He smiled involuntarily and looked at me.
“We are in grip of war, we were bombarded by enemies of opposite side, some men died, some embraced martyrdom, some left us, some about to leave, but war is a gradual progress, martyrdom is not the end of something but beginning,” he smoked fast and leaned his back towards wall.
We are in a gloomy cantonment somewhere in a mountainous and deserted place. No livings dwell here. It’s abandoned. Me with some dead fighters are in that intolerable cantonment.
“We have lost some comrades. haven’t we?” I looked at him with an annoyed face.
“Yes, yes! We have but their martyrdom will never go in vain, they have completed their sole cause. Nation will remember them eternally. What have you decided? Should we leave this place to protect our lives when they have sacrificed theirs for this nation,” he asked me emotionally.
His words hit me hard; I picked up the rifle emotionally and fired madly.
“Die is cast,” I shouted, and looked back at Daad. He was reloading his rifle.
“Yes! Of course,” he responded.
(BM-16) a mini missile hit our position, I heard a big bang, loud intolerable sound, it deafened me, everything started disappearing, and finally I left this visible world to the other invisible world.
Surely, martyrdom is not the end of something but beginning.