We bleed green

We bleed green

“Dada, where will we go after leaving this city? Dada, mama told me once about this house, but she said “you bought this house for us, then why are we leaving this?” 7 years old Ibrahim was asking questions from Mr. Faiz while walking across the backstreets of Amritsar. Mr. Faiz started giving answers when splashes of blood fell on them from the roof of the nearest house. Mr. Faiz grabbed his grandson’s hand tightly to run, before Mr. Faiz made his way backward, a slaughtered body fell on his feet. Ibrahim started screaming with horror, and then three more dead bodies fell, at the same time, three houses caught fire, and screams lingered in the air. Mr. Faiz, knowing the danger of the situation, lifted Ibrahim in his lap and ran in the opposite direction of screams. He felt steps behind him, moving towards them; they were following him.

Mr. Faiz was running breathlessly, trying to control his nerves. His heart almost missed a beat when he slipped but he covered him up instantly and ran to the nearest house. The only thought he had in his mind was to save his grandson. The house was old and its walls were filled with splashes of blood as if it was also a slaughterhouse a day before. Ibrahim scared the living daylights out of him; his warm tears were falling down constantly. Mr. Faiz on figuring out his
grandson’s horror, said, “Don’t cry, my son. Don’t scream. They are behind us. We will escape. Trust your dada.”
Ibrahim tightened his grip across his dada’s neck, showing a gesture of trust. Mr. Faiz hid himself and his grandson in a small room under the stairs. The steps felt heavier as they were getting closer. The noises of people became louder and louder. Ibrahim hid his face in Mr. Faiz’s lap. As the noise got louder and the steps heavier, Ibrahim’s heartbeat fastened, and Mr. Faiz is scared stiff, he holds Ibrahim more tightly. The grim steps are on stairs now, and some were
inside the house, after searching the whole house they gathered near the stairs and start talking with one another,
“I saw him, he was running this side”,
“They entered here”
“They won’t have gone so far, find them”
“Move in all directions, he shouldn’t escape alive”
“Do you check them here? Open this one too”

A man from them ordered another. Mr. Faiz’s breath tightened, but a wave of relaxation ran down to his feet when he listened to a young voice.
“I check it here, there is nothing inside”
“Where can he go?”
“Go, find him,” They spread in all directions, only Youngman stayed there.
“Stay here until they’re gone” The young man whispers.

Mr. Faiz was still trembling, and questions about the young man’s identity filled his head. He rested his head against the wall, looking upward in gratitude while reciting “the throne verse(Ayat al kursi, the 255th verse of surah al Baqarah). Ibrahim was in shock but calm, his heartbeat was in control now.
“They are gone now; you can come out and follow me, any delay.”

Mr. Faiz opened the door, looked at the young man with a praising smile, the young man passed a smile as well, he was carrying a sword, which made Ibrahim afraid of him, he read fear in Ibrahim’s eyes and put a sword in the scabbard.

“Follow me”, the Youngman said, and lead them from street to street, and from houses, leaving
them in a safe street, “This street is safe, they had gone, no one will come here until they find any evidence of Muslim life here, and you have to be careful. Now move.” The young man explained the situation and ran from there. Mr. Faiz wanted to thank him but his words stuck in his throat. The street was covered with blood and slaughtered bodies, as Mr. Faiz came nearer to his house, the number of dead body’s increases, his heart was trembling with fear, he knew in his heart what he was going to see and on entering the house, he fell on his knees, the dead bodies of Ibrahim’s mother, father, and Grandmother. There were splashes of blood covering the walls, and floor.

The dead bodies were in pieces. They were brutally murdered. Ibrahim starts screaming and crying. But Mr. Faiz placed his hand on Ibrahim’s mouth, and said, “My son, for the sake of your life, please don’t scream. Your dada wants to see you alive. We will move from here. Come on, we can’t wait here anymore.” Mr. Faiz consoles Ibrahim with a shaking voice and tearing eyes.

Ibrahim was sobbing but not screaming anymore. Mr. Faiz built up the courage, lifted Ibrahim in his lap, and ran towards the station. Their house was near a railway station and trains were going to Pakistan every few hours. The train was ready to go when they reached there. The train, in which they entered, was full of dead bodies, with the few alive that hid under benches and they somehow succeeded in saving their lives. The noises of an enraged group were coming from a mile and their slogans were getting stronger as they came nearer.

Mr. Faiz hid himself and Ibrahim under the seat. After a few minutes, four men entered the train to make sure no one escaped alive. A man came nearer to Mr. Faiz’s seat and sat there. Mr. Faiz jumped out of his skin but breathes a sigh of relief when he saw that man’s face, it was the same young man who saved their lives earlier, the man looked into Mr. Faiz’s eyes, and said: “we will meet in Pakistan, sir”.

“Thank you for getting us out of trouble. May Allah Almighty protect you” Mr. Faiz’s tears were rolling down his face, while Ibrahim was stuck in horror, continuously staring at dead bodies. The man stood up and shouted, “All dead, no one is alive. Let’s get out of here.” And the men started jumping off the train. The few who remained alive were being slaughtered now, except Mr. Faiz and his grandson. His eyes were hollow white in shock and deep pain, he was left with 7 years old Ibrahim, and now they were both each other’s family. The train was moving at a snail’s pace and after a few hours, it stopped at a station. The slogans of Pakistan Zindabad were raised and filled the air with gratitude. The man who stood there to welcome them started jumping in but they started shouting and screaming. No one was alive. Man’s started carrying dead bodies out of the train when a man saw Mr. Faiz getting out from a cabin; he ran outside and shouted, “Praise be to Allah Almighty, there is one man alive and a child”, the slogans of “Allah o Akbar (Allah is the greatest) filled the air. As Mr. Faiz showed up at the train’s door, the people at the station started greeting him. A man tried to separate Ibrahim from his dada, but Ibrahim tightened his grip. Mr. Faiz caught fear in his grandson’s eyes, and said, “Don’t be afraid my son, they are good people, we left our home because of them and for this land, now they all are our family, this whole land is our home now. They all are nice people. See, they are not carrying any weapons. They are the people of Allah Almighty. They all are Muslims. We are safe now.”

Mr. Faiz kissed him on his forehead and handed him to the man; Ibrahim opened his arms to grip the man’s neck as he was grabbing his dada’s neck a minute before. Mr. Faiz met all the people at the station; they headed him towards the nearest shelter house, where Mr. Faiz and Ibrahim were offered new clothes. They take baths and change their blood-filled clothes. Then a few men headed them towards the nearest mosque to offer “Nawafil Prayer” as “the prostration of thanksgiving”.
Innocent Ibrahim followed his dada during the whole prayer and with dada he raised his hands to pray, he started,
“O Allah, We are here in Pakistan, you know they are good
people, they are not carrying any weapons. There are no dead bodies and blood splashes.
O, Allah! Where I was before, they were murdering everyone, they murdered my parents, but we
O, Allah! We escaped but my friend Norman is still there, please save him. You know
he can’t walk.
O, Allah! Please protect uncle Najeeb, he cannot see.
O, Allah! Please protect Muslims there, dada said, you love your servants, so protect every Muslim there and send them here. There are good people. They will not kill them.
O, Allah! I lost my parents; please protect my dada and other parents. I love you Allah and I know you love me too, and you will listen to me.”
Mr. Faiz was watching him pray, with tears in his eyes. Ibrahim finished his prayer and passed a smile to dada.
“What do you pray for?” Dada asked with a smile on his face. “It’s a secret dada, I can’t tell you.

Mama told me once, hide the things that you ask from Allah between you and Him unless Allah listens to your heart and give you what you are asking for, and baba said, to pray for something is the matter of pure relation between Allah and his servants, and man should not tell everyone what he needs, its only Allah whom we should tell, and He listens to our heart when our intentions are pure. Dada, I know my Allah loves me, and Allah knows that my intentions are pure. I can’t tell you dada.” The innocence on Ibrahim’s face forces Mr. Faiz to hug him tightly and kiss him. Then they got up and a few men led them to the same shelter house for food where they changed their clothes. Ibrahim grabbed Dada’s finger and started asking questions.
“Dada, why did they murder everyone brutally?
Don’t they have families?
Did someone kill their families as well?
Dada mama and baba didn’t do anything bad to them, not even you and I, so why did they want to kill us?
Why don’t they want to see Muslims alive?”
Mr. Faiz smiled and said, “We were in British slavery for many years. When Muslims asked for separate land, everyone turned against them. Our leader Jinnah and his full team make every effort to get us separate land. As efforts for separate land became intense, the situation worsened and Innocent killings were started, and when documentations for separate land were signed, the British left land in our hands and moved back. The extremists don’t want peace inland; they provoke Hindus and Sikhs against Muslims which causes killings of many innocent lives.” Ibrahim cuts the words in between, “what is slavery dada?”

“It’s like living in a place under someone else’s orders, in which you are not free to do anything, in which anytime someone came and asks you to either leave the land or give everything to them, in which you move with the fear of being killed at every step you take, in which you are not allowed to do anything by your own.”
“But dada we were free to play and no one ever came to humiliate us.”
“This is because we lived in a Muslim community where everybody was taking care of one another’s needs, and health. Peace was priority there, until partition occurred and everything changed in a day for us.”
“Dada, these are good people. Now we will live here with them? But we have no house, where
will we live?”
“My son, this whole land is ours. We can live anywhere here. We are free. No one can come and take the right of life from us. No one can suppress our voices. We are free to do anything good here. Yes, they are good and supportive people, they love us, but the condition is we have to give them the same respect as they are giving us. Listen, my son, this is Pakistan, for which we have lost many precious lives. You have lost your parents and friends. You have already made a great sacrifice. You are the future of this nation. You have to make this nation proud. This land is your responsibility now. Do whatever good you can do to this land. Always remember, this land is our now and no one can snatch it from us. When you get older, your responsibility will increase. You have to be careful with every step you take; don’t do anything which causes shame to the name of this precious land. Be kind to everyone here and don’t look down upon anyone. This land’s everyman from rich to poor is your responsibility now.”

Mr. Faiz was speaking while walking across the streets and stopped when they saw Pakistan’s flag on the roof of the house, Ibrahim saluted the flag. Mr. Faiz and the people behind him followed the same. The love of the landfills the air with peace. We bleed green; we knew what our ancestors lost and what we got. Little Ibrahim showed the example of patience to the world.
Ask yourself a question, “What are we doing for our nation?”

Not everyone is capable of answering this, those who aren’t doing anything worthwhile for the nation; must do something to make the nation proud. Hard Work requires patience. We lose our hope very soon, we leave our work in between, and we humiliate others who are trying to make something better. We as a nation need to support one another. We need to accept and promote talent. Unity requires, “working and living for one another”. Help and motivate others to make their dreams come true. You are the future of this nation, it’s on you to bring the name of Pakistan to the level that people around the world remember it as a land of talent, as the land of love, as the land of peace, and most importantly, as the land of purity.