Author: Ganjal Baloch
Dear Sharul,
What shall I write about you? Shall I write about your bravery on the battlefield, your dedication, or your motherhood and comradeship? Can a poet ever form you in verses, or can a writer’s pen possess enough ink to pen you? To pen Shari? For that, one shall not write but bleed too.
Dear Shari, the epitome of bravery!
I am writing this letter for you with heart-filled pride and ecstasy, and a smile that will never fade away. I had never known about you before, and I had never heard about such a daring act that stunned me and gave me hope to get out of the dilemma. Therefore, I guess you received the honor of being the first female Fidayee of the Baloch liberation movement.
Since your martyrdom, I have wanted to write to you, as martyrs never die. They are eternal and living among us. As you know, since your martyrdom, there has been chaos around the Baloch world and the international world. Some people were shocked, and some collected your praise. At the same time, some so-called friends tried to crush your successful struggle. In these last few days, I wanted to write to you; I wanted to admire your struggle. I owe you for what you have done, your struggle in further solidifying the voice for struggle, revolutionizing us, and starting a new era. I wanted to argue and prove the points of how righteous and selfless your act was, but Sharul, the epitome of mountainous courage, nothing can ever do justice to you. No words can ever and ever do justice to your sacrifice because your sacrifice is beyond any words, beyond mountains. The ocean may end, the mountains may feel small, the world may shrink or open, the stars may fall, the moon may never revolve, and the sky may disappear, but you and your sacrifice would still be beyond.
Hence, I tried to write you a letter because I know it will reach you, and you will read it and realize all the emotions that I have inscribed for you in this letter.
Dear Sharul, the realm of revolution!
You know I have been writing this letter to you since the day of your martyrdom, but it is still incomplete. And now, at the moment, I am sitting in a public bus, the bus is rushing, and the conductor is rude and misbehaving. But see what I am doing? I am writing to you amidst all this chaos, and nothing in my surroundings matters because you are beyond chaos, or I guess you are the chaos. Okay, calling you chaos may sound weird, but it’s not, I guess, for the aftermaths you left are crazy and put the entire so-called state on fire. So for this state, you are the chaos that is standing amidst the crashing waves of thunderstorms.
Should I stop? Because the roads here are so bumpy, and I feel like I am just coming out of the window of the bus. But no, I won’t come out. The driver here has very strong control. But now, it’s getting tough to write, but I don’t feel like stopping.
Shari, you know I don’t have words to describe you, nor only I, but I guess none can express you for what you did. No literature can be produced over you because you are the literature yourself. Your sacrifice is the literariness one may think and get crazy and never come to a conclusion.
And you know the best thing is, you brought the women on a single path. You brought women to the war on the front line: no man, no woman, but simply just Baloch. You did the war of honor and dignity: the love and a parting. You put us all at war. You showed Baloch is at war; Baloch shall remain in war no matter what kind of sacrifices they have to make, but Baloch has to lead this war for their sovereignty and dignity.
Sharul, you know, I know, you know, this state has gone crazy after your attack; it has turned every stone but was left with nothing. The state at various places acted weird; it even tried to create an environment of fear, started harassing and threatening the Baloch, but you have continued, Sharul. Just know that you are not alone; you have made hundreds of Shari on the front line. And you shall remain to continue.
Dear Sharul, the emblem of blood and honour!
Sharul Jan, it’s April 12th, 2023. The month of awe has arrived again, whispering to the dry wind about your bravery. Once again, I have garnered some strength and jotted down some words in your honor. Though it took some months, it doesn’t mean a moment passed without your courage being missed. You have always been with us, chanting the bliss of eternity. The ongoing war carries your stories of bravery. Today, when the warm wind of April hits the barren surface, it makes me feel that you are walking barefoot in our motherland. I cannot speak to our motherland, but I can feel her joy that you once walked over her and now reside within her. The wind is blowing a little fast, and your long silky hair filled with the aroma of roses and tulips is tousled; birds are watching you smiling, and you are running and telling your other fellows about today’s news that it’s been a year. And this so-called mighty state is clueless about you, and yet it’s creating fake scenarios by disappearing innocent people and linking them with you. You know the state will never forget your day, for it will ever squeeze lemon in their eyes. You saw today’s statement about how they remember your day is so victorious because you ironically and morally crushed this State as you carried out your attack in the University of Karachi, where almost 50k students, along with thousands of staff, are enrolled and working. All these people have families, so 50k people sharing the news with 50k others, and the chain goes on. Apart from you being a mother and an educated woman, this chain of the entire Pakistan knowing about your selfless act will never let this state sleep.
It’s April 13, 2023, and 12:43 AM. I am writing you with a ray of hope in my heart because you fought and crushed the social norm that only men fight wars. You fought the war as it should be. Wars are won by soldiers, and wars are not constrained to gender roles. During the battle, everyone becomes a soldier, irrespective of gender. Those people who put you as their profile pictures and adore you, in reality, are not ready to take the path which you chose over everything. Also, some of us were so cowardly, we were not ready to admit what you did and instead shared the slogan “Don’t drag woman into War.” They should know that we all are part of this war irrespective of gender. When a nation is subject to oppression, then it means everyone is equally restrained. The oppressor spares none, and so shall we. Indeed, war is cruel, and nothing is worse than war when everything is at stake, especially your life. But what is even worse is when your survival, your land’s survival, your identity’s survival, your dignity and national wealth’s survival, and your entire generation’s survival are at stake. Then the war for your survival becomes your first priority as a Baloch. This is the war of the Baloch, and every man and woman must be a part of it, and no one has the right to raise the slogan “Don’t drag women into war.” This is a war of survival, and every Baloch must fight for survival. Shari, you have fought for our survival with your own conscious choice, for you believed that land is above all.
It’s April 19th, 12:44 AM, and like the restless state of Pakistan, I am also restless to write to you. Shari, you know that even after a year, the state is still afraid of your existence, and I know that the state will remain scared for ages, for you have shaken the entire Earth beneath its feet, and recently, the arrest of an innocent Baloch woman named Mahal is clear proof of this. The state is afraid that every other Baloch woman may turn into another Shari. This shows that you will exist forever and ever.
It is 26 April 2023, and I shall conclude my letter. Sharaan, today my admiration for you takes flight like a joyful bird soaring across the sea. Your immense character is indescribable, as you embody the essence of courage and honor. Even after a year, your existence continues to strike fear into the hearts of those in power. The state remains afraid of you. They fear that every other Baloch woman may follow in your footsteps and become a force to be reckoned with. Your impact on the Baloch people and the state is undeniable, and you have become a symbol of hope, resistance, and strength. Your legacy will continue to inspire generations to come, and you will always be remembered as the woman who led the fight for survival. As the famous quote goes, “There are decades where nothing happens, and there are weeks where decades happen.” And then there is you, Sharul, where decades end, and you begin. I send my adoration to you.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of The Balochistan Post or any of its editors.