This poem is written with perspective of Dawood Ibrahim, a fortunate 15 year old to escape the Peshawar massacre. His alarm clock didn’t go off so he overslept and missed school. Every single member of his class was killed in the atrocity.
I am scared,
Scared to go inside through those doors again,
Scared to be alone without any mate to be with,
Coz they all left me to take their classes in heaven.
Should I be sad and jealous about this,
That I can’t be with them anymore,
Or rather be pleased to be here at the ground,
Safe and protected under my mother’s warm shroud.
You have your own shroud now…just yesterday I saw you all having one,
But what warmth will it be giving to your cold cadavers?
I can’t even act like being envious and asking same for me,
Though I am so distressed that I wish I had one too.
Sometimes I think am I really safe now?
Was that their last vengeance upon us?
Can I go out and play again?
With my new imaginary pals.
I can’t even shed tears anymore for you all,
Coz I am all dried up by now,
The porch of my eyely abode,
Is now just a frozen lake of tears.
I am not even that big yet,
To understand the gravity of this situation,
But I try to comprehend about it,
From the profuse denials of my mother to let me go out again.
Though I see my father standing tall as always,
Showing his obvious machismo that he is supposed to,
But through his grimly eyes I can feel,
The terrifying thought of losing me.
This fear has shaken everyone around,
Even the thought of it happening again gives me jitters,
But rather than perishing every day here like this,
More willing I’ll be to receive their bullet in my skull
Why on name of devout practices like Jihad,
Some of us even forget what humanity was like,
And every now and then carry out the extermination,
Of our own kind, the innocent and wise
Bring an end to this charade… I beg you all,
Enough with your ways of terrorizing our souls,
We aren’t scared of you or your carnage,
We are just afraid to lose our loved ones at such a young age.
Show some mercy upon our souls,
Just think for a moment, think on your own,
That why would the almighty be so willing to accept,
Those now deceased spirits whom he himself gave life to rest
Though someday you all will realize this fact,
And then repent for all your vindictive acts.
But what should I do…with nothing around,
With all my mates buried under ground.
With whom will I share my pain and joys,
To whom would I disclose all the changes I go through being a boy.
I am scared …but not scared of death alone,
What I am really scared of… is to be forever desolate and forlorn.