By Ganjal Baloch
In a simpler time, there existed a serene life and a land that was transparent, warm, and filled with joy. At twilight, a girl named Summaya engaged in heartfelt conversations with her beloved Rehan, their words carried only by the attentive bees.
The young and innocent souls of this sacred land roamed freely, their hair flowing and adorned with flowers. They ran through meadows, danced, and sang amidst the embrace of Baloch’s golden deserts. They inhaled the salty breeze of the Baloch’s ocean. Someday, the echoes of freedom would resound, and Summaya would no longer have to sacrifice her love, nor would Rehan be separated from his beloved. Someday, this land would truly belong to us, and we would possess it.
Someday, when the morning of freedom arrives and the dark days of colonization come to an end, no children will be deprived of a mother’s love. Maho and Meero will live in the realm of their mother’s shade, and the grandmothers will sing lullabies of the brave women and men who fought tirelessly for their freedom.
Our skies will be free from enemy helicopters and fighter jets. They will no longer drop bombs on our land; instead, they will shelter and protect us. Date trees will no longer throw bullets at us, and no son’s life will be torn apart by bullets in front of his parents.
Someday, a courageous woman like Lumma Yasmeen will surpass all limits of bravery and love. She will not need to blanket her son with the flag of Balochistan, allowing him to sacrifice his life for the land. However, in the future, the need for such sacrifices will cease to exist. Instead, the red, blue, and green flag will be proudly raised from every house and institution, symbolizing unity and freedom.
Our land will be fertile, producing flowers, crops, and grains that give life to our people. Everyone will have a safe home, and mothers will sleep peacefully, knowing that no one will knock on their doors or harm their beloved men. Baloch students will pursue education peacefully without being harassed or forcibly disappeared by forces.
Someday, individuals like Waja Riyasath won’t have to undergo grueling combat training, and freedom fighters won’t have to endure the hardships of extreme weather, hunger, and sleepless nights under the open sky. And our young men won’t be reduced to mere posters or social media hashtags but will live freely.
On Eid days, sisters like Seema and Saira will wear their finest Balochi dresses and joyfully greet their loved ones. They will no longer have to sit on roads, hoping for the safe release of their brothers. Their brothers will be home, and they will have lively fights over meat.
Someday, a mother like Zakir Majeed’s lumma will radiate happiness as her Zakir will be with her. Someday, children like Saeeda and Haider will no longer wait for their fathers; they will laugh and grow in the loving presence of their fathers. No child will be deprived of their father’s love and protection.
Someday, on Eid, children will collect Eidi from relatives and neighbors without shedding tears. Balochistan will celebrate Eid with joy and unity, joining the rest of the world in these festivities.
However, today we live amidst a war-torn era and face numerous challenges, witnessing the bitterness that permeates our surroundings.
Who wouldn’t desire a simple life? Who wouldn’t yearn for personal comfort and luxury? Who willingly chooses painful separation from their beloved? In this materialistic world, who would take on the role of Ibrahim and sacrifice their own Ismail? Such profound examples are rare to find, aren’t they?
Yet, there exists a land stretching wide with shattered dreams and tearful farewells, with promises of unfulfilled returns. These experiences can be written about and spoken of, but only those who have endured them truly understand the magnitude of such ordeals. It is an indescribable journey that no mere human can capture in words. Neither you nor I can become Ustad Aslam or Rehan Jan, but the least we can do is honor their blood and sacrifices. Even if it proves difficult, we should choose silence, as we often opt for silence on countless other matters, for we are not the men of great intellect and integrity that they were.
You have consciously chosen to depart from this land and its people, opting to wander foreign streets and finding pride in your decision. It is indeed your personal choice to pursue a different life, including your personal affairs and seeking refuge for your safety. We have no right to question your choices, as they are yours to make.
However, it is not within your rights to come and question our decision to fight for the preservation of our land, our roots, and our people. It is ironic that while you claim to have made a conscious decision, you attempt to construct a narrative that belittles the sacrifices of others.
Do you believe your choices are justified and rational, while those who shed their blood are senseless? You have no right to question the choices of martyrs. Furthermore, your acts of dishonoring the sacrifices of freedom fighters will forever be remembered and condemned.
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.