Who has to save the girl?

Navigation between pages has always been one of my preferred topics and same was true for today. Nevertheless, for a person like me it was today not a favourite, but one disheartening thing to do. I somehow slipped up on a video shared by certain page which was linked up to a recent incident that took place at Kaaw Mohalla, Khanyar on the eve of Eid-UL-Zuha. One unfortunate incident which too will drop dead in the law books against a thirst for justice and ultimately will result in one futile exercise of hope.


Well, a point here is that what make me write today after a long pause about such incident? I have already written numerous articles about the society’s evils and this too is no exception to them. So, for today what is it that made me once again pour my agony in these scripted lines. It is nothing except the “False show of humanity” that irked me of that video. The journalist is asking a lady who has lost her daughter in one of the heart scissoring incidents, “Tueh paeyth kya chuw mouj waeynken baitaan? (Mother, what is right now happening to you?) , Tueh kya chuw gasaan weayn kenas? (What is happening to you right now?), Tueh kya chuw basaan? (What do you feel about it?) and so on. Come on, Mr. Journalist first you call her mother then you ask her about how she feels of an incident of losing a daughter to the flames of inhumane society? How will you feel when, God forbid, your sister/female parent/daughter will ash down to dust and someone will build a story on how you feel right now about it? Even in a wildest of an imagination of such tragedy will send shivers down the spine. What sort of journalism is this? Disgusting! This is no new narrative, no new crime, ample number of such crimes take place each day, each hour, each second. Forget about getting a space in local dailies they don’t even get a person to mourn. They rest like never existing creatures in the earth full of sorrow.

Hah! This video actually played so bad that I found no better option other than stopping it there and the first 17 seconds have frozen in me. They are pain to watch. Doubtless, this video must have been made to show inhumanity, but while brings down the curtains of shame the discipline of journalism lost its own to “Fake sympathy”.

Offense is constantly clear. It is we who have blindfolded the eyes, it is we who feed it, it is we who actually nourish it and it is we who finally complain about it. It is the S.O.C.I.E.T.Y… even words don’t suit to be merged. Such tragedy!

Let me ask you a few simple questions,

How many times you have uttered when something improper is going on, even in your family or in the neighbourhood or in area around?

Have you ever done anything apart from being a mute spectator? Or being a person who watches and discusses do’s and do not’s at back?

In case you have done your bit, how well your family has supported it?

How many times you have reported wrong? Ever? Or just never?

There are so many questions and so less of an expectance of any right. Change is not one day march that we will shout and the next day it will be served. It is a struggle. It is a freedom from doomed ideology. It is a fire to orthodox ideas, cultural burdens, and above all the light into a deep lesion. To get it, we need to starve for it, else this article is only a burden to trash. In simpler words it is not about “who, when and how will save the girl”, instead it is all about “I will save the girl”.

To the fire

I did surrender myself.

Call it destiny or social iniquity,

But for now,

“I am free”.

No curse, No impudence.

Keep blaming each other

By then I shall return in womb another

I know, all over again,

Everything would be same

Faces will change

While crime will have new name.


P.S: The link to video is here  https://www.facebook.com/umaan/videos/10205806342692161/




The night could have wished to sniff the silence, may be good night would have been the note of the time, even eyes was struggling to coalesce the lashes in, but couldn’t rest as the earth underneath was still shaking in the tremors of the day. The wisest of thought struck the gray matter to just share the tremors of the day to someone, as the weed of concern had already made place in garden of friendship. She in a low mood without waiting for seconds to turn in, broke the walls of distance between her broda’ and her stammered voice. Lest she could have left any second to breathe but narrating her painful tale even before she could have tasted the salt of droplets rumbling through her cheek. Brother consoled her and his words packed with love embraced her so affectionately that even distance couldn’t stop warmth of a hug to whirl around the cold chest shivering in the aftermath of the day. Do you trust me? In the broken voice she asked to her broda’. Of course I do, said her bro in quite a gentle tune. She narrated the whole tale and pulled the threads of proof. Hey! Don’t behave as a teen girl just stand and fight, the rest is left to me, the words of her bro. Now listen to me, a confident brother spoke, just behave normally and talk normally, let him get calm down that’s the need of moment. She could say nothing except to nod her head upside down and made sure she will follow his advice and keep him updated. Mornings two went enough wise, she tried to hold her thoughts as fresh as the morning dew but Swords of Damocles would have been taken over from her head, which was as dreamy as an angels meet in century 21.


Before pen could have dried, the blots of blood again smelled life and woke up horrify the fine day. She was caught in the nostalgia of the broken friendship of her very old best friend, the words of her poured on the blank sheet like a blunt knife through the chest.

“Don’t ask me for friendship, O’ Dear friends

All I feel is, it has made its place in modernization trends”

Even before these words could have flown out through her mind, they got her happily settled in the lap of inferno miseries. You are such a big diplomatic person, what the hell you think are, you bitch, you are a traitor, your soft tunes ditched me, I thought you were an angel but you are the witch, blah, blah, blah, were the words that nailed her head and she was left in remorse. Still she stood with courage and asked, “What really happened?” In the hope that word could shower some mercy and will narrate the story what made him to shower woeful words. The hell wouldn’t fire such flares as the words were, the storm can’t bring the destruction as the words bought just because a simple thought travelled the mind of her. Instead of inquiring he blamed her, showered the curse as if was uttering the blessing. As if the collection of those heartless words weren’t enough that his odious voice echoed with phrases too obscene, “hey be ready now see what the hell I will do, in the past I showed you the trailer, now you watch out the whole movie, be there I will show you how I will let you witness the disgrace, watch out the show, don’t even dare to run off. She was terrified, scared, crying on her insanity why she even let him in her sweet blessed life. In the corner one, just was turning the pages of one after another strategic warning and wiping the tears of the world. “Cutting has started”, now the videos of blame will be uploaded for the world to watch you, last time the pictures were there and you were witness but now the video will be up and world will watch your ugly face, these cold words were from the same affectionate tune she wasn’t able to believe. Stop, don’t harm yourself, and do what so ever you want but don’t hurt yourself, she said. The condition was getting from bad to worst and therein she realized to call her brother. Brother, You there? Yes! Replied he, what has happened? Bayi (bro), Please stop him, he will do wrong to himself, she urged. Calm down he won’t do anything it’s your bro’s promise if he really wished to do something he would have done not waited for the sky to turn from light to dark. Just breathe free, her brother said and let me give him an answer now and you stay quiet, just as if you God forbid smelled death.

At the end he got the fruits of his deeds, he was left alone and God blessed the girl with the decision wise and a lesson for life.

I myself after hearing the story was left in deep nostalgia, was just wiping tears that were tinkling down the cold cheeks but then a thought had a birth, I realized that I learnt a lesson for life and I need to spread it. So here I ended. My only advice is, just try to conceal your anger because of it you can lose relations of a lifetime, well here it was of days and ended. But think of months or years of relations which people lose just because they ain’t able to control over their anger and spit out the words which pierce the skin as if the venom of snake running through the veins and leave the blood poisonous so do the relation do away. So my advice is to kill the “Anger” before it murders the “Relation”. One most important thing, If you don’t understand what real friendship is then please don’t even pollute this pious relation with evil deeds.

“Friendship pure is the cup of delight 

Tasted by the people who stand true and fight for right.”