It was raining bullets all around. Paradise-like Kashmir was being bathed in blood. The beautiful valley was covered in blood. The town of Heimis in occupied Kashmir, which was nestled in the mountains, where the cool breezes used to captivate the heart, was completely bathed in blood.
Abdullah also lived in the same town. All the Muslims were confined to their homes due to the oppression of the Indian army. Whoever went out was riddled with bullets.
"Mother! How long will this oppression continue? When will we be free?" Abdullah was crying with his head in his mother's lap.
"God willing, we will surely gain freedom one day. The blood of our elders will bear fruit, and this tale of barbarism will end, and we will be victorious." The mother was consoling Abdullah.
"Mother, when will I go to school? The school has been closed for many days. Ranjit was saying that they will close the doors of knowledge on us. Mother, he used to be a very good friend of mine, but now it seems like he has become my enemy." Abdullah said, still crying.
"No, son! Don't cry. Be brave. These Hindus can never be our friends. Their aim is to oppress us Muslims." While the mother and son were talking, there was a loud knock on the door. "It seems, son, that your father has come. God grant us peace." The mother went and opened the door.
"Is everything alright, Abdullah's father! Why are you so worried and agitated?" The mother asked him, seeing him at the door.
"What can I do, my dear wife! I barely escaped with my life. I had gone to see our fields. The shameless ones have burned all the fields of the Muslims. Ashraf Bhai's house was also burned along with the fields, and the cruel ones kidnapped his daughter as well." The father narrated the sorrowful story.
"May Allah grant patience to Rozina (Ashraf's wife). We can't even go to their house to console them in this hour of grief. My heart is breaking just hearing this." The mother said, crying.
"Father! How is Noman? How is he?" Abdullah asked about his friend Noman (Ashraf Sahib's son).
"Son! I don't know much myself. I was worried about my own life. Many people were martyred before my eyes. I barely escaped with my life." Sadness filled the father's voice.
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"Can I say something..." At night, when Abdullah had fallen asleep, the father said to the mother.
"Yes, tell me, what is it?" The mother replied.
"I am thinking about how much I have worked in these fields, what efforts I have made to protect the crops from pests. Today, when I was about to reap the rewards of my hard work, my crop was burned. It feels like my young son has been martyred before my eyes, and I am left empty-handed. I kept watching my crop burn, but I couldn't do anything." Tears welled up in the father's eyes. Hearing this, the mother also started crying.
"Abdullah's father! God willing, we will surely gain freedom one day. Our Pakistani Muslim brothers and sisters will not leave us alone in this hour of grief. They will surely come to our aid. Pakistan is making great efforts for our freedom struggle. It will surely succeed in its purpose. A day will come when we too will be breathing in free air. The splendor of our mosques and educational institutions will surely be restored one day, and we will live a life of peace and tranquility." There was a sparkle in the mother's eyes. The father also clearly felt that sparkle and went to sleep, taking solace in good hopes while praying. Abdullah was also lost in the valleys of peaceful sleep.