بدھ, اکتوبر 10, 2007

Memories of a Riot

The lasting influences of any atmosphere on our mind can’t be denied .The framework provided by the happenings around us moulds our emotions too. I acquainted with this fact by a strange incident in my life.

I was, at that time living in a town with my uncle, by profession a businessman, having four shops dealing with different commodities related to the necessities of life, you may call it the life line of the town. The shops adjacent to his home, no other building was as huge as it was in that small town.

It was an enjoyment for me to see natural life in rural area, slow, calm, like a brook, a very simple, honest, far from artificial decorum of city life. One day; suddenly, a riot broke out and engulfed the peaceful atmosphere of the whole region.

Amidst the thick population of other community, my nucleus’s shops cum house were the only one belonged to our community. We were crazy about our safety. The history of such incidents made me believe that hatred, and madness of communalism turns people into a blind devil and the relations of years lose meanings and the warmth of love with in a moment. Though we were afraid of the hostility of other community, my uncle never bothered about it. He was calm, confident about the intention of his neighbors. He was very popular among the residents of the town for his nobility, and helping nature. Poor people would admire his philanthropy, when ever they need money or any other help he was ready to help them. Due to affection and love for him in the hearts of residents, my uncle never worried about the changing weathers of the town.
The people from out sides were trying to disturb the atmosphere of the vicinity by provoking speeches, so I was anxious about any unpleasant incident, which may occur any time.
It was the moments before dawn; I woke up hearing uproar in the street. People were shouting loudly, the sound of slapping and beating some one was clear. Different voices being heard: “Maro, Pakdo, Udhar, Udhar Bhaga paskdo, Are rassi se bandho, pakdo ……”

It took no time to understand that the riot has taken this village into his grip. I knew that it was the time when uncle would go to Namaz-e Fajr (morning Prayer) and I thought that miscreant Had captured him. There was no other way remained for me, except to go out side to rescue him. I was aware that it was impossible for me to give a fight to a mob still I went ahead. Near the door I found a heavy iron rod .I took it and entered in the balcony realizing
Those those were the last moments of my life. I confirmed my belief on God by enchanting holy verses.

As I entered in the balcony and peep into the street, to my surprise a strange view made me laugh. There were a number of people around many cattle pushing them to wards kanji house, which was in front of our shops. The uproar was for those cattle to put them in kanji house.
Now, when ever I think about this incident. I feel my self-ashamed that we think about people according to the noises arises in our atmosphere. Most of them these misunderstandings are due to the false propaganda destroying the peace and unity of our country too.

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