By A. Baloch
It was midnight, the wind was cold, and we were shivering due to the cold, but inside of us there was a fire; our minds and hearts were burning. We were feeling hopeless, but our commitments were so high.
We all were sitting around the coffin; it was a sit-in. We were protesting for justice, we were demanding peace, and we were chanting against tyranny.
It was a dead body; he was protesting against tyranny. Before that night, he was with us, and he was chanting slogans and raising his voice for others, but then his dead body lay on the road, and his dead body was protesting for justice for himself. An old missing person’s mother came to me, and she said:
My princess, it’s too late. This place is not safe for you; you should leave. Her eyes were full of tears as if she had been crying before coming to me. I looked at her carefully, hugged her tightly, and told her we are all equal, as this place is unsafe for anybody. How can I leave all of you here alone?
That night we were waiting for justice, and really we knew that clearly getting justice here is not a piece of cake, but still we had to believe in the law, but then suddenly two big vehicles came there, and some men got out of the vehicles, and they tried to snatch a dead body. We resisted, but they took away these dead bodies.
That moment I saw, everyone was resisting and trying to save their loved ones’ frames. I was trying to protect everyone, but I couldn’t. One man came to me, and he grabbed me and pulled me down. My head was hit with a stone, but I stood up again. I tried again to protect my people, but they took me into the car with other comrades. They drove us to the jail. There were some women with them; they didn’t hesitate for a moment and didn’t think for a moment that we were women and the same as them. We were abused and beaten, and we were kept in a dark and small room.
It was an empty room; there wasn’t any bed or bed sheet. We had to sit on the floor, and that’s where the story just started. We were treated like animals; it’s where they had kept my father. But you know I wasn’t afraid of this place because I saw my father through these walls; I felt my father here; I heard his whispering as if he was telling me:
Come, my child; my embrace has been waiting for you for years. Oh, my brave child, you are keeping your promise. This was my property that I gave you; now I am proud of you.
I should thank them; I asked my comrade.
“Why?“she replied.
Because they caused our meeting, I am seeing my father every moment, I told them.
My father taught me that:
My beloved daughter, you are not alone; see, there are thousands of your brothers and sisters. They are missing; even their parents don’t know anything about them, and even they don’t know whether their loved ones are alive or not.
See, my child, your family is not the only one suffering from a tough time; there are several families who are suffering, and you know who you are? Who is in pain to feel the others’ pain?
After a long period, one day they came again, and they had a paper, and they offered us that if we agreed, they would release us, but the words written on the paper were against our determination; therefore, we refused …. and refused it with our fullest spirit. One can break us, but cannot break our courage and determination.
You know, after losing my father, it was my first Eid that I met my father again. We both celebrated our holy day behind bars.
That time I thought about my mother, my younger sisters and brother, but you know? As I thought about them, my father’s face appeared there as he held my head on his shoulder and asked me:
My brave child!
As I told you, they are not alone; your whole nation is with them. Remember what I told you?
These walls are teaching me, one day I said to my comrade.
How? She asked with a smile.
My father’s spirit is still here; I am feeling him, though I can’t touch him or smell him.
Then I looked at my comrade, and I said,
You know we are winning, and they are losing… They thought our detentions might break us, but you see, we are gaining more strength and getting more courage.
One day, they really did it; they brought our younger comrade. She was bleeding, and she was unconscious. They threw her in our room, and one of them said, Now we will do it every day; wait and watch.
I ran and took her in my arms, and I said
Do it every day, but remember it again and again. You might break our body, but you can’t break our vision, our courage, I shouted.
After months, they went to their extreme; they took away one of my comrades coercively, and we started a hunger strike in protest. Sometimes they shouted at us and forced us to eat, sometimes they made fun, and they laughed at us, but we did not care at all.
We spent three days without eating, but you know how we survived? We imagined our people that they are protesting; they are standing, they are chanting, and they are singing. They are resolute and determined towards their national cause, and it gave us hope. Inside our hearts we were murmuring, “Victory will be ours “
We promised ourselves that we have to survive for our people, we should return for them, and we should be present among… because our people are our strength, and their strength lies in unity and oneness, we shall return to our people with more zeal and spirit. We shall return soon.
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.