Freedom to impose Islam

(Syeda Saman Naqvi, Narowal)

(An absolute step towards victory)

I was standing alone. There was grim noise of individuals crying for help. As dust settled, I saw body parts are drenched in blood and dust is scattered around me. People are crying for help. I noticed some body parts started gathering them self and converted into a headless body which faded away.In fraction of a minute, it re-appeared with its head in his hands. It was the most horrific dream I have ever experienced.

He was running very fast towards me and seemed that he is oppressed and dismayed. Only I was the person in that huge gathering who was focusing on that wild looking meanwhile the rest were trying to help injured folks. They were ignoring us as we are not a part of that scene. His horrible getup raised thousands of questions in my mind. Beard growing down from his face was blown apart. His hairs were full with dirt and he was wearing ragged clothes. His hands were injured and blood was dripping down from cuts and bruises on his body. He was crying and lamenting with pain continuously. I was really surprised that nobody was bothering him at all. Only I was looking at him with anxiety and but I was not scared at all. Distance got shrank in no time and bare footedly running man was standing next to me. I was so hurry to ask him about his grief but I realized he was even more impatient to open his lips and utter his words to talk to me. His voice was shivering.

“Who are you and what is your problem man?” I asked him abruptly. Silence prevailed for a moment. Then he spoke up:
“I am Suicide Bomber” I was in my surprise and he repeated “I am Suicide Bomber!”
I got a bit scared for that moment. To my fright, I inquired that what he wanted from me. He said: “Don’t be worried. I am not at all going to harm you.” But his next lines increased my curiosity to talk to that man. He said:
“I want you to save the humanity from terrorism. Please do something. I am so restless and helpless. I destroyed my whole life being a terrorist but I want you to save the other innocent children from this curse. Please don’t let them become the victim of frenzy Taliban mentors. They are giving wrong view of Islam to them.”
Now I wanted to let him tell me the whole story that why he was repenting so much and what was the real cause of his worry. He sat beside me while his body was shivering. He started telling his story. He said I belonged to a poor Pashtun family from Southern Afghanistan. My father was a poor labourer who couldn’t handle the financial load of the family. We were 10 brothers. So he sent me to the bloody hand of Taliban himself. I was a very unlucky child of my parents. Saying this, tears were rolling down from his cheeks. He added that two agents of Taliban came one day and bought me from my parents. By the time, I was fourteen years old. The place where they brought me was totally an unknown area.

The beginning of his story was so much seductive that I was listening to him so keenly without a single blink.

He proceeded that they took me to a compound of four rooms. I was given a room with two other roommates, Abu Anas and Omar. They were seventeen years old youngsters. The room was adorned with paintings that were colored brightly in clear contrast to the barren and harsh landscape surrounding it. The children were told that all this was awaited them in heaven. This became great fascination for us each day. Each of pictures had a river flowing through it. Some had people playing in water. Other had women lining the bank. They told us that the rivers of honey and milk will be our property in heaven but these things will become our fate if we will kill the so called Muslims in the country that were actually infidels in their dictionary. They gave same view of thinking to us. They just washed our brains and solidify our faith that killing people is our duty according to Islam. Then they taught us how to use weapons. They instilled wrong beliefs in us that if we don’t get married in this world then we will be presented with women in heaven that are virgins. We were told that Prophet P.B.U.H will also be with us there. They promised that we will meet our parents first after death. Day by day, we became stronger in our beliefs. We believed that every man at masjid, every student at school, every woman out of the home and every civilian is a wrong doer. They are infidels that are against Islam. Then one day, those two twin brother were being prepared to do a suicide attack at a school. Both of them successfully killed thousands of innocent students through suicide bombing. And all of us were celebrating our victory. Then, one day, that unfortunate time reached when I was made ready to attack a public gathering in a market, where the people of every size and age were present. Oh my Lord! How contemptuous move I made. Saying this he started crying with shame.His voice was now careful and his wistful glances on my face were mourning on his sin.

He continued that a bomb was fitted in my vest under my shirt. My mentors gave me an amulet with Quranic verses on it and told that it would protect me from fire. A key was also given to me that I hung around my neck. This key was another non-sense to open the gate of heaven after my death. I was thinking it as my religious duty to resist infidel coalition forces. The mission was simple just about touching the two wires together and the resulting blast would obliterate the Kafirs.

Blindfolded and rigged with explosive payload, I was driven to my target and I entered into the public gathering fearlessly. I touched the wires as guided by the mentors and the blast happened, bringing me from a dark useless life into an even more dark eternal life where now I have to live forever. Yes, I am dead. After my death I got to know about right and wrong. Neither my parents nor Hoors met me. The promise of meeting my parents and Prophet P.B.U.H was also wrong. I am only presented with Azaab of qabar nothing else but it is too late to realize.

I was listening to his story so attentively that I couldn’t focus on his death. Suddenly, his words “I am dead”. As this echoed in my mind, I came out of my dream. I got back to world after getting out of his story and stood up with a jerk. It was the spirit of that Taliban whom I acceded to talk. That jerk just woke me up from sleep and now I am agitated. This dream was really thought provoking which forced me to think of to our self as a nation and see our true face.

I am writing this article to make my people aware of tactics played by Talibans who bring sinless and innocent Muslims child from heaven into hell. Through this article, I want to share with my readers a dream that was certainly, not a nightmare but became a fortunate chance for me to take a step against Talibanism through my writing.

Terrorism, the biggest threat to the moral, social and economical development of a country, is becoming permanently injurious for Pakistan. The story of demanding the impossible and demanding it on gunpoint is the most common story on the tongue of every Pakistani today. But a million dollars question is how to eradicate this cancer from the diseased body of country. I found no other way better to perform this obligation of raising voice against terrorism than to use the power of pen that can be mightier than a sword to educate and guide the ignorant masses of country against Talibanism. I want to save my youth and my children from becoming the victim of this tyranny. And especially, I want the parents of Pakistanis to strengthen up their faiths who are, themselves, sending their children into wrong hands. They are becoming hopeless due to their poverty but they don’t know what kind of religious education their child is being put through. In order to set aside this issue we have to answer following questions to move on and ponder on where are we standing today? We are very frail, faithless and coward. We send our children in the hands of Talibans ourselves. Our belief on ALLAH is weekend. Our Islamic values are derailed and presented to nation in unreal form by Mullahs. Poverty is a cause that gives blow to terrorism. People in downtrodden areas get easily brainwashed lacking education. So government should play role to eradicate poverty. Law and order situation must be improved. Every Pakistani has to work in collaboration. People should get awareness through electronic and print media. Every single person has to play his role and work in collaboration. Children should be given right teaching from their parents and teachers so that they would differentiate between right and wrong. A chain is only as strong as its weakest point. So the purpose of writing this article just lies to make my reader responsible and vigilant about his responsibility. This is the time to do some effort. So open your minds, your eyes and live a purposeful life.

This dream left me restless not for the rest of the night but for my whole life, is now becoming a way to educate my people.

Syeda Saman Naqvi
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