Daily Times

It was March 26 when the president ordered Pakistani troops to restore law and order in East Pakistan.

Revolt had started in EPCF and later in East Bengal Regiment of Army. Baba and uncle Nafees-ud-Din both seemed satisfied with the decision. For them it was a necessary step in the context when public life had almost jammed in almost all cities. Later that evening when Baba came home he told Ami that he wanted me and her to leave for Lahore on the first available flight. For the first time I asked him “why?” What was wrong?” he told me that everything would be fine and there was nothing to worry, it was just not safe anymore for us to stay any longer. When I argued he told me to go to bed. Outside the door to my parents’ bedroom I heard Baba tell Ami that “slaughter houses” had been established to massacre Beharis and West Pakistanis. Looting, killing and the worse kind of violent riots were spread all over East Pakistan.

In the following week, Uncle Nafeesuddin’s family was attacked in their house while Baba was there with another friend. Surprisingly, some of uncle Nafees-ud-Din’s students were also the part of the mob who chanted, “traitor!!, kill him!!, burn them alive!!” However, Baba’s gun shots dispersed the mob. When Baba arrived late at home that night he fell on the floor and stayed there for a long time. Then he called Dadi and told her that things were getting out of hand and that he did not know what to do, since he could not kill other Pakistanis because of political motives, nonetheless the separatist sentiment had built up a rage in him with the dire need of protecting not just his family but his country too. Later he told Ami that the Bengali servants of army officers from the West had revolted and killed the officers’ families after torturing them. But what made Baba almost cry was the event when a train full of Beharis, gathered from all over Chittagong, were led to massacre while they were told by Bengali officers that they were transferring them to safe places. In a single day, a train full of Behari women, children and men, old and young was slaughtered out of the city. And then arrived the day that changed my life forever. The day started with the same anxiety and panic of what was going on outside and how might we become victims of it all. Fear had already taken control of every heart that beat in the anxious awakening of what would happen today. Ami was packing basic stuff. We were to leave in two days; Baba had bought the tickets for me and Ami, though he had to stay. I rejoiced at the idea of going back home and meeting old friends and relatives but at the same time my heart and mind were in a fix, since I did not want to part with Mortaza so soon. Ami had asked me to pack my things like books, toys, clothes in one bag and as the day began I got busy doing exactly that. I talked to Mortaza on phone around mid-day, and found that he was also sad at me leaving but like all children we were optimistic about things averaging out ok ultimately. Baba arrived in the evening and as I ran out to greet him I observed the unusual blood red colour of the sky. Immediately Dadi’s words struck my heart, “When cruel people shed innocent human blood its colour is reflected in the sky and every grain of the universe weeps and laments the occasion.” Baba looked tired and sad, we moved into his study. Ami got busy with preparation for the dinner. As the night approached we heard shouts outside the house, Baba rushed to the main door and saw some people jumping over the gate of the house with daos and daggers in their hands, others were throwing stones at the windows. Ami came running from kitchen and grabbed me in her arms. Baba shouted at Ami to hide and rushed to the door. I could hear people banging the door and shouting out loud.

I was frozen with terror and could not move. Ami grabbed me and took me to the rooftop and we hid in the water tank. I heard Baba’s voice fainting in some distant space, the same manly commanding voice, that soon with every burst of a gunshot was getting distant, was moving away from us. “Baba?” was the word on my lips and my mind. It is strange that I don’t remember the cold water in the water tank in which my legs were soaked but Ami’s tears that ran down my cheeks as she held me tight, close to her heart. It was this sea of sadness in those tears that would chock me for the rest of my life. I don’t remember the darkness or the lack of oxygen in that confined box, but till today I remember Baba’s voice being hushed under the blazing gunshots, and the dark, deep silence that followed. We did not even want to hear the sound of our breathing in that edge of the end, but I could hear the sound of our tears dropping and mixing in the water of the tank like disturbing raindrops in a hushed river. Soon smoke started spreading in the house, and everything turned pitch black for me.

We stayed there frozen with terror for the whole night. Ami’s hold of me never loosened for even a single minute throughout the night. We did not dare to get out of the tank and somehow felt blessed that darkness had turned us invisible to the world. When, in some part of the next day, we came out, we came to know that the Bengali officers had captured all the officers from West Pakistan and have taken them to unknown facilities. I had heard gun shots yesterday but I did not know whether Baba was alive or dead. Ami and me rushed out of the house and started walking on the road. What I saw outside was an unbearable site. Blood and mutilated bodies filled the street; houses half burnt exhaled the smoke in the blood stenched air.

“Ami, where will we go?”

I asked in a panicked tone.

“To uncle Nafees-ud-Din’s house beta, walk quickly!”

We had only walked a few miles when suddenly came rushing a mob with men carrying daos, someone had pointed to us and they all came rushing towards us. Ami froze with terror and I clung to her shirt strongly. Ami held me tightly and we started running in the opposite direction. The sun shone on our heads with its full might and blaze. As Ami dragged and pulled me hurriedly, my chappal slipped out of my foot and I fell. Ami bent down and in no time the screaming mob was all over us. They held Ami by her braided hair and pushed her away from me, Ami screamed and I shouted. They slapped her, kicked her in all sides and tore away her dress, one of them shouted take her away. In front of my eyes they dragged Ami’s naked body on the ground and by her hair they pushed her away from me. Ami’s screams got louder and heavier filled with a pain that still resonates in my every pour and awakens a terror that turns my blood to ice in my veins.

I was frozen with terror and could not move. Ami grabbed me and took me to the rooftop and we hid in the water tank. I heard Baba’s voice fainting in some distant space, the same manly commanding voice, that soon with every burst of a gunshot was getting distant, was moving away from us

As I tried to run after her one of the men grabbed me by the hair and pulled me towards another side. He took me to a corner of the street and punched me in the face, and started beating me. Next he threw me on the ground, tore away my shirt and brought out his dao.

“Scream now you bastard! Call out that bitch your mother and I will see who will save you today…should I cut your nose first or your ears? No, I will pull your eyes out first and feed you to the dogs.”

I could barely move under his weight. The stench of his blood stained clothes choked me and I felt I could not breathe. With all the foul words that he spitted out like venom from the fangs of a snake, he tried to arouse fear in me but I was not afraid of anything he said, instead I had in my heart and soul a rage so terrible that I wished to tear him off into pieces. I don’t know why I spat in his face and suddenly heard gunshots and before I could make sense of anything else his bleeding body fell on me. With pain and his blood filling my eyes I fell into an unending darkness, my body shivered and froze to ice. With terrible pain in my muscles I pulled myself up and ran to see what had happened, an army vehicle was standing in the middle of the road; young officers held some of the people from the mob but most of them had fled. I was looking for only Ami though, but she was nowhere to be seen. It was too late. I don’t know how far had I gone but with “Ami” on my lips I fell unconscious and utter darkness took control of my senses.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in an army vehicle wrapped in a sheet and a young army officer, Captain Rahim, was pouring water in my mouth, asking my name. I could not speak; it was as if my tongue was not in my mouth. I didn’t want to wake up, I knew in my heart that something terrible had happened, perhaps the sky had fallen or the Day of Judgment had arrived. He helped me sit up and gave me some dried bread to eat. Soon I realized that I was in safe hands but I could trust no one now. I crouched on the seat and closed my eyes, wishing I never had to open them again.

For the next few days, I moved in that vehicle with the troops, since there was no safe shelter where they could take me to. In my mind I kept thinking where could my father and mother would have been. I rushed to all corpses that I found on the way to see if it were Baba or Ami. One afternoon as the vehicles stopped, I looked out of the window and saw swollen corpses being eaten by stray dogs. I could not breathe the air filled with stench of rotten flesh and blood that soaked the soil. As I stepped out the young officer pushed me back saying, “they are not here.” With tears in his eyes he settled me back in and told me to try to sleep. How could I sleep! How could I breathe! “Where was Baba? What had they done to him?” The questions kept pounding my head like hailstones. The image of the bingos beating my Ami came to my mind, “what could have they done to her? They must have tortured her? Had they killed her? I could almost feel the pain she must have suffered through my muscles and the shame she faced squeezed my heart. “O God! Where would my parents be!” With such agonizing thoughts in my mind, I felt the vehicle moving again.

Again I came to my senses when suddenly the vehicles stopped and I heard noises around. I pulled myself together and raised my head to see what was going on. In a distance I saw a huge pile of corpses like a small hill; blood was everywhere clotted on the earth. Could Ami and Baba be in there? As I straightened up, I suddenly saw something move in the middle of the pile. A woman! A woman, naked and wounded, blood flowing down her to her ankles was pulling herself out of the pile. “Ami”!!! “Could it be Ami?” From a distance I could not recognize the face; her nose had been cut off, her breasts were cut off and drenched in blood she pulled out of the pile and stood to her feet. The troops all stood paralyzed at the site. “Ami?” slipped out of my lips and as the woman started running towards the troops I opened the door and ran towards her. Tears flooded my face as I shouted “Ami, Ami” and ran towards the woman. An officer held me by the waist and picked me up, “Its Ami, is it Ami?” I kicked him to let go but he held me close to him. The woman ran and clung to an officer, held him by the neck tightly, and said, “Bhai bohut daer kar di, daikho kya kar gae.” And she fell on the ground unconscious. I rushed to her and cupped her blood soaked swollen cheeks in the palms of my hands. She breathed her last while my tears fell on her face. “Ami!” I shouted but my voice also got mixed with the still horrifying silence of death. She was not Ami but could Ami and Baba’s bodies be also there hidden in the pile of dead bodies, somehow I freed myself from the clutches of my saviour and ran up to the pile. I started moving the dead bodies as much as I could to see if Ami or Baba was there. The pile was too huge and it was impossible to look at every corpse. I could not find Ami or Baba in there. Captain Rahim approached and held me in his arms as I fell to the ground and saw the blood covered dust under my knees. I touched the clotted blood mixed with dust with my weak fingers, “Can this be the blood of my parents. I tried to fill my hands with it for it could be the blood of Ami or Baba! As my tears started moistening the dried blood, the officer picked me up and took me back to the vehicle. “Ami! Baba!”

Somehow the woman who had originated out of the dead gave me a strange morbid hope of Ami and Baba’s survival and I thought they might have been somewhere alive among the rotten carcasses that were everywhere. I spent the next three days hiding in the vehicle looking at corpses with the hope that Ami or Baba might be alive like that woman among them, and on the third day, I thought I found my mother’s swollen dead body in a slaughter house. Her nose, ears and breasts had been cut off. The body was half burnt and honestly there was nothing that could confirm that it was Ami’s body. But amid all the mutilated corpses I, in my heart knew that it was Ami. I told the officer but he hushed me in his arms and told a fellow colleague that I could no longer accompany them and that someone should get me back. I now wish I had not found her but somehow I also want to believe that I found Ami.

The rest is history. Back in Lahore, cuddled in Dadi’s arms I would suddenly hear Ami’s screams at night and the image of her body being dragged away would numb my senses and I would faint drenched in sweat and tears. Somehow I am unable to wipe the day off my memory till this very day. I see Ami smiling only in photographs now but in my mind is imprinted the same agony that I felt on that very day. For months, I could not eat, I could not meet people, I could not go to school. Uncles and Dadi would discuss about country’s deteriorating situation and whenever they would listen about massacres and killing, each one of them would weep in solitude.

After all these years now when I sit and look back at history I realise that many big names associated with the plot of genocide became victims of their own ugly games.

The writers are academicians based in Islamabad