As Fatimah weeps uncontrollably I am unable to console her. Tell her that even though she has lost her parents her brother is here to look after her. I hug her tightly, an unsuccessful effort to soothe her frightened mind.
‘’I don’t want to live like a refugee, I don’t want to live in a refugee camp .Brother!, I want to go home .’’ she says between sobs.
And I …….i just listen and curse those savage Hindus and Sikhs for destroying my family. A tear rolls down my cheek and the horrible memories replay like an old gruesome film.
I, Abdullah Hashmi used to wait by the door for my Abbah to arrive. Rumors had spread that Muslims all over India were being massacred .Days ago Abbah had said tensely:" Abdullah a Muslims has to fight for freedom, remember that, always! And if I… .’’ He had stopped for a second.
‘’What Abbah? ‘’
‘’ nothing….just remember that! ‘’
But I hadn’t understood what he was trying to tell me ,I thought that Muslims would migrate to Pakistan quite easily, But that moment when Abbah arrived ashen faced, I knew ,I was wrong. This partition would bring untold sufferings, tragedy, trauma and pain –for all Muslims. He had taken Ammah by hand and led her to their bedroom, shutting the door behind him. A moment later I heard hushed voices and Ammah’s frightened voice,
‘’What are we going to do now? If they are burning the place all over, how can we-?’
‘’I don’t know, but we are lucky our village is near the border. We will just have to try and reach the border before we too face the same fate as our neighboring villages’’.
When they came out, Ammah rushed upstairs while Abbah with a small smile came over and had given me a hug.
‘’Be brave son!’’.
After an hour, all of us Abbah, Ammah, Fatimah and I with dark robes on had let ourselves out from the backdoor, deep into the plantation.
We had walked for hours and were just two to three miles away from the border (according to Abbah) when suddenly I heard noises, we watched quietly from between the crops grown. Hindus and Sikhs, they were shouting and laughing cruelly. I gasped when I saw them setting fire to the Muslim houses with buckets of-
‘’gasoline….!’’
In minutes the area was engulfed and entire families of the village screamed pitifully for help, as they were consumed by the flames. Those who escaped were caught, tied together, soaked with gasoline and burned alive like torches.
Suddenly Abbah had placed a hand on my shoulder
‘’Son what are you doing? Come on, we have to go! We are so near! Your Ammah and Fatimah—‘’.
He broke off as we heard a shrill scream somewhere ahead: ‘’Ammah!’’
We ran at full speed, I saw my father stop just as a man with long hair turned and advanced towards Fatimah. What I saw behind him was unbearable. My beautiful Ammah! Her neck was violently slashed and a pool of blood around her indicated her horrible death. Abbah sprinted forward and just before he leaped the Sikh turned and with a swift sudden motion thrust the dagger in Abbah’s abdomen.
‘’No!’’ I had yelled as the man again turned towards Fatimah, a evil gleam in his eyes which indicated his intentions. But Abbah still had energy; he pulled out the dagger and stabbed the Sikh in the back. The Sikh fell down and so did Abbah. As he inhaled his last breath, he called me over:
‘’Abdullah listen to me, be strong. Take care of your sister, she is young; don’t let those barbaric Hindus touch her.”
As I nodded, weeping silently, a smile appeared on his lips and he too became motionless. My fingers trembled as I closed his eyes; then I went over to Ammah and kissed her forehead. With a blurred vision I saw Fatimah follow suit.I picked up the dagger and had wondered for a second how would I ever attack to kill if need be , but then I had shook my head and grabbed her hand and ran ,ran for my sisters life .I ignored her whimpers, not slowing down until I had seen a man in a green army uniform. He was shouting, and running towards us, my muscles tensed but then I heard him calling over his fellows to help us………. .
I come out of my reverie and unfold my strong arms only to find my sweet, scared Fatimah, asleep. I wipe her tear strained face and hope that someday I will be able to avenge my parents macabre deaths and Fatimah’s tears caused by the Hindus inhumane actions..
