By Zunaira Saqib
Dear Baiti,
I hope you are keeping up alright. I died yesterday at Line of Control. The media people must have reached the village by now. I wonder if they have already made a hero out of me.
I woke up here… at a strange place. They said some place before they send us to heavens. You know I saw him, the guy. The guy from the other side, the soldier. I saw him and he saw me too. We both looked away. But we saw enough. I saw his blood drenched uniform and he saw mine. The death in our eyes must have cheered at each other too. He looked very much like me. We avoided eye contact. For some time at least. But he looked so lonely, just like me. I walked up to him after a while. I shook his hand. You know he looked like me. I already said that didn’t I? It’s just that… It was all so strikingly similar. And with his blood drenched uniform it was sort of hard to tell he was from the other side. We shared a nervous laugh. I showed him your photo. He also had a photo of his son. About your age. I know I should have felt angry at him. Maybe not at him but at his association. But I didn’t. I didn’t feel anything. There was nothing. No sadness, no anger, no happiness. We shared a nervous laugh, showed each other the photos, and then we shared a comfortable silence till our names were called up. It’s strange I know. How you can relate to strangers… Enemies… So quickly.
We waited to be called up. There were too many people here. From so many places. So we waited to be sent to the promised heavens. When we reached the gates I saw that place and it was so similar to the world. So similar. So I asked the guard “Really? Same as the world?” He said it’s heavens because it’s free from hate. I laughed at that… I had to ask and you know I had to ask. “So what does hell look like then?” He gave me a long look like I used to give you when you asked me silly questions and then he said… “Where do you think you are coming from then?”
We could not disagree to that now could we? So we walked the door… Together.
I miss you my love. I will write again. Soon.
Baba