“THE INNOCENT FACES”
The innocence on their faces could
never be forgotten by our minds. The grieving and longing eyes of their mothers
and desperate efforts to catch the sight of their lovely ones would never be
appeased. They have taken the chairs in paradise but we as a nation has lost in
darkness because of the ferocity of barbarians and apathy towards their security
on our side. Ferocity turned the smile
on their faces into fright when raised their hands in horror and wilderness on
the demand. Imagining their sporadic crying, running, falling, escaping for
survival, when they always looked for warmth of their mothers’ hug, whenever
they felt insecure or hurt a little was nowhere. They were vulnerable target of
the ferocious attackers and no place for survival have torn my heart into
pieces and have perforated my soul. Since that day, I see their faces all the
time, my grief sees no limit. I know that they are happy in the heaven but what
about me? The scar on my mind has taken me to the desert of grief and driven my
sleep off, where I’m lost. In fact, I no more have any interest in worldly
luxuries and feel no happiness. I cannot forget you, the little flowers of my
garden. My happiness was because of you, my heart was beating because of
you, you were the source of brightness in my eyes, now like a
blind man and deepened eyes, I just find darkness everywhere around me. I have
no reason to console myself; I’m embarrassed of myself that I couldn’t help you.
I wish, if I could be instead of you in those horrific, blood-curdling and precarious
moments and could stop that savagery to see you alive and happy. I wish, if I
was instead of you ------ instead of you ------.
How lamentable it is! When I visualize that your mothers must
have been putting your rumpled beds and rooms into order, where you had scattered your things, with
the idea that you would come back home
and must have been about to prepare your lunch and other energetic drinks so
that you would be served, after you being languished by curriculum activities .
Though, they did not know that the deep rooted hatred had come into contact
with the innocence. Your shoes, uniforms and your bags have been bedraggled with
your sacred blood, while all these loved to be dusty and smudged with inks of
your pens.
While visualizing some of you playing,
laughing and up-roaring, your noisy celebrations in the premises of school,
some of you chatting with each other, some of you busy in jumbling and rumpling
and some of you engrossed in studying at desks; your mischievous but lucid eyes,
your frivolous activities sometimes in classrooms, twisted expressions on your
faces after being admonished or punished a little. The naivety on colorful
charts pasted on classrooms walls being used of dandling you, of your nugatory
activities, of your small but heart- touching demands, of your hands and
uniforms smeared with ink and your willy-nilly walk to school, all have turned
our eyes wistful and engraved in our minds.
Let me verbalize, when trees would start dancing to see your scampering
and romping about under their shades, the leaves would start tinkling and jingling
after being hit by your voices, the colorful flowers would start blossoming and
would sprinkle fragrance over you, and in return would absorb innocence and
daintiness after being touched and caught by your sight; are now gloomy,
mortified, sad and broken by this wide-spread mortality and will surely deplore
when won’t find you among the survived ones.
The roofs of your classrooms,
always in habit of being proud of your ambitions, didn’t know that one day would
see you taking your last breath mercilessly. The rampaged and perforated school
where you would learn your lessons with curiosity would become a butcher house.
The doors and windows, which you used for your classrooms were the last remedy
of your survival and would become walls of martyrs. Your playground, in which
you played, which would lighten up its burden and feel relaxation, now is hard-pressed
with this heinous act of genocide.
Daring-do of the exalted ones, laid
their lives for dear ones and added another chapter of chivalry and virility in
their profession, they sanctified their blood and are successful before their
lord. But what about us! We are in great torment.
Tocsin has rung and we are like travelers
in a desert, who receive smacks of slashing heat and sands in eyes but with
holding their flag and bound to reach the destination in sandy storm by all
means.
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