I promise.....

For you my children of Peshawar.....

I promise to remember this day,
Till the day they lift me on four shoulders and carry me away,
I promise the sight of your blood,
Will forever stay in my mind,
Forgive me for waking up,
And going about my business of living,
While your graves turn cold.
I apologize for being able to hold my children,
While your mother looks for you desperately,
Hoping that you might come home.
I don't deserve to taste the food that I swallow,
I don't deserve to behold the colours of this world.
I promise to remember,
The white shrouded bodies of all your classmates,
The bullet riddled walls of your school.
Please forgive me for breathing another day,
While your young father carries your body away.

Here I go!

In memory of my little children in Peshawer
Rest in peace babies......

Cricket, hockey, my cell phone, girls
Exams, friends, playing hooky, holidays
Growing pains, heartaches, hair in strange places,
Shaving like dad, glasses like big brother,
Batting like Afridi,
Boxing like Amir Khan.
School assembly, the last days before winter break,
Passing notes to buddies, waiting for the lecture to end,
Here is my wish list mother,
There could have been more,
I had no time,
Lay me down now I have to go,
My blood has been pouring for far too long,
I give my life, my wishes, my hopes,
I don't need them where they have sent me,
Tell baba not to cry for my friends accompany me,
I am not alone,
the little girl from fifth, the boy from sixth,
Here I go!

Eid Saeed

Look at those soft round heels
They can sure kick when angry,
Have you seen the tiny fingers?
Curled into fists when fussed.
Look away
There's baby blood everywhere!
I cannot tell if it's a heel or a hand anymore

Big brother tugged at those naughty ears
Little sister patted her sticky cheeks,
Father used to run his hand through her soft curls
Mother kissed that warm forehead,
Look away
There's baby blood everywhere!
Daddy has to hold her limbs together.

Nothing stopped him from kicking that ball
Other boys are also playing outside
The surf beckoning,
The sand spraying as they pelt after their rolling target,
Look away
There's baby blood everywhere!
His legs lay askew as they took them to the morgue.

Eid Saeed oh children of Palestine!
I hope there is peace where ever you are now
This was no place for children
There's baby blood everywhere!

‘Raped’ Teen Dies of Self-Immolation

'A mina' incident
Take me home mother for the deed is done,
I have completed the task myself
The burning that begun with brutal thrusts
Has now engulfed me entirely,
I am free
Take me home mother for the deed is done
The skin they devoured has melted off
There is nothing left to turn them on,
I have made sure I look as hideous as death
God should make us all like this
Dripping with our own flesh and blood
Then perhaps they will leave us be
Or maybe not
Like vultures they will come
They have, can you see mother?
I told you I was telling you the truth
Now they believe me as I light the torch
As I am licked clean
They believe me mother and so do you
As I bid adieu 
O! Mukhtaran
I know what you meant
There is no pain like the one we tasted
But I cannot live with the shame
Take me home mother for the deed is done,
I have completed the task myself.

The Sports Day

The circular said 'children are to be dropped at the venue at 8.00 am sharp.' So there I was in the dusty parking lot of the grounds where my children were to have their annual sports day. They have been part of this institution since they could toddle and there were very specific reasons why I had admitted both of them there. Unlike the new crop of upcoming wealthy parents to whom this school is nothing but a status symbol that makes for great dinner time conversation with their yuppy friends. Recently I have noticed how ridiculous the school's demands have become. But perhaps they are ridiculous only to those who own a single vehicle, are working parents and have no maids/chokidar/bodyguard/driver/houseboy/slave.

A month and a half in advance a notice was sent by the school stating that all children were to enter a training camp for the upcoming sports day. The "camp" was either in one corner of the city or was held at such unrealistic hours that those of us that had to drive/work/supervise the younger sibling all by our self were left gasping. It was brought into the respective teachers' notice but the head shook and the reply was the recently famous 'you have to send your child otherwise......'

Lists were put up a couple days before the event on the school walls that ominously read 'RESULT SHEETS.' Parents flocked around (myself included) looking for their child's name, some mothers clicked pictures to send to those that had not come(I mean seriously?) It was a sight! Haven't sports days been a tradition in Pakistani schools since time immemorial? I never remember anyone having to nose through lists. 

Any how there we were and I had deposited my two into their respective enclosures, which is a fancy name for laying dirty carpets onto lose sand, that rises into your nose as you walk on it, surrounded by tents. I take my seat in the arena and wait. And wait, and wait and wait. The microphones are tested, the music is not playing(it is supposed to be a rehearsal day) but hang on it is also the sports day for the younger lot right? Confused? so are we, every year. After forty five minutes the events begin. There is an atmosphere. Parents are enjoying their tea and snacks as well the various races on the field. According to the program we received the last events take place and most of us start moving towards the children's enclosures to pick them up. Some of you probably think all the children got to participate. You are wrong. forty percent of them have been sitting on a sand dune eating dirt for four hours without having to do anything with their own sports day because remember a month and a half ago we were warned 'you have to send your child otherwise......'

There are plumes of dust as I walk towards my child's 'enclosure,' children are running amok and the sand is everywhere even on her eyelashes. "Where is your teacher?" "I don't know." 

Oh there she is, in the only dust safe corner of the tent sipping tea and talking to her buddy. 

It is noon time and the sun is merciless. Yet we are told that there will be a last time the children will march onto the tracks and then we can take them home. I reluctantly go back to my area to wait. It is scorching and the children walk back onto the field. They are then asked to sit down. I get up. How can they expect the children to be sitting in the sun when we lounge in the shade? For the next forty minutes random prizes are announced and children come up to get their medals while the rest of them sit roasting in the noon sun. One after another names are called of children from 8th 9th,10th,11th grade while the 3rd 4th 5th 6th 7th graders hold their hands up to shade their eyes. Parents watch on helplessly most of them with children from 3-7 grade. But none of them utter a single word. After all this is a school that is said to be the best. It is a school that promotes the inculcation of confidence in their children rather than academics alone. For the last three years my son has not been "selected" to participate in the annual sports day of the school he has been attending since kindergarten.