Gone but Never Forgotten
Mountains that once depicted a beautiful landscape now looked more like heaps of rocks and sand. The sky was not visible as the smoke and dust masked it completely. Cries of women and shouts of men made the scenario much worse.
The aroma of the special baakarkhaanis; the sound of the usual morning cartoons; papa calling each of them for breakfast - it were these happy memories that the girl remembered.
Mama was on job and Papa was in charge at that time. He was passing a boiled egg to each of us. When it was my turn, suddenly, a blast was heard. The earth started trembling with little tremors and then, starting giving jolts and jerks. The egg fell down and it was completely smashed under the falling wall of our lounge. Bricks started falling from the walls. Papa grabbed us in in his arms and rushed outside. A block just scratched my elbow, but, it didn't do much harm, as I was in a state of complete shock and numbness.
When we came in the lawn, escaping from the falling bricks and walls, just like an adventure escape, the scenario was what i had never imagined. Our gate had fallen to ground. My home illustrated the scene of a graveyard. My father rushed outside. We reached our neighbor's lawn, where whole of our mohalla had gathered.
I, then, mustered up the courage to ask my father what had happened. He just said, "ZALZALA" and started looking at the sky.
I thought that ZALALA was a person or a monster who came and destroyed everything but who knew, it was even worse than that.
That evening turned into dark night. Dead bodies were continuously being brought and placed under the bare sky. Some were not even recognizable. People, with their broken arms and legs were mourning over their fate. "What had just happened to our beautiful city, Muzaffarabad?" was the question in everyone's eyes.
The night grew darker and darker.
Sitting among the corpses and mourning people, I was wondering when Mama will be back. But who knew that she had gone to a place from where no return is possible.
This was the scene seen through the eyes of a 7 year old girl. This girl was sitting under the bare sky along with her 5 year old brother and 2 year old sister who had just started walking. Her beloved father, whose eyes were now in search of something, was wondering what had just happened half an hour ago.
Her little mind was now getting flashbacksof what occurred half an hour ago.
The aroma of the special baakarkhaanis; the sound of the usual morning cartoons; papa calling each of them for breakfast - it were these happy memories that the girl remembered.
Mama was on job and Papa was in charge at that time. He was passing a boiled egg to each of us. When it was my turn, suddenly, a blast was heard. The earth started trembling with little tremors and then, starting giving jolts and jerks. The egg fell down and it was completely smashed under the falling wall of our lounge. Bricks started falling from the walls. Papa grabbed us in in his arms and rushed outside. A block just scratched my elbow, but, it didn't do much harm, as I was in a state of complete shock and numbness.
When we came in the lawn, escaping from the falling bricks and walls, just like an adventure escape, the scenario was what i had never imagined. Our gate had fallen to ground. My home illustrated the scene of a graveyard. My father rushed outside. We reached our neighbor's lawn, where whole of our mohalla had gathered.
I, then, mustered up the courage to ask my father what had happened. He just said, "ZALZALA" and started looking at the sky.
I thought that ZALALA was a person or a monster who came and destroyed everything but who knew, it was even worse than that.
The earth was continuously trembling.
I, being a small and greedy girl, was still crying over what happened to my boiled egg. How could it get smashed under the wall? Suddenly, I looked forward and saw some people bringing dead bodies that were crushed under the fallen walls and roofs, just like my boiled egg!
"Oh! Where will be my mama", I asked Papa. He told me to pray for her early arrival. I started reciting 'Pehla Kalma' and 'Surah Kosar' as these were the shortest.
That evening turned into dark night. Dead bodies were continuously being brought and placed under the bare sky. Some were not even recognizable. People, with their broken arms and legs were mourning over their fate. "What had just happened to our beautiful city, Muzaffarabad?" was the question in everyone's eyes.
The night grew darker and darker.
Sitting among the corpses and mourning people, I was wondering when Mama will be back. But who knew that she had gone to a place from where no return is possible.
I was staring in the dark, unaware of the challenges ALLAH had prepared for me, my family and my beloved hometown Muzaffarabad, imagining Mama coming as a source of light to guide me through those challenges.
- Ayesha Amin
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