A shot through the head....

Smoke was spiraling up the sky. The streets were empty. Gunshots were heard from all directions, only to be broken by silence, thin deafening silence. The whole town looked brown, the mountains, houses, mud-roads…. everything. Up ahead, a gate flung open and Khader Bhai was thrown into the dusty road.

Khader rolled over to the other side of the road and lay there still. Men wearing black uniforms, holding Kalashnikov rifles rush out through the gate. One of them grabs Khader by his long hair and lifts him up. The blood flowed from his cheeks. His handsome face was smeared with dust and blood. His upper lip had a deep cut and one of his eyes were swollen red.

When the guard pulled him up, Khader kneeled on the ground. It was dusk. The sun slanted its rays on his majestic long hair. A cool breeze ruffled his hair and blew away his white shirt, exposing his chest. After some shoving and pushing he was bought to the middle of the road. His glance threw a chill down the soldiers’ spine. On a fair-battle he would showed them how much of a man he was. But he knew, in this world the phrase ‘fair-battle’ is an oxymoron. His eyes were made of pure steel. It held no fear, no pity. Only love can evoke such strong emotions. The eyes were piercing. His chest was swelling with pride.

Khader recited the verses of Koran one last time. He had never missed a namaz as far as he can remember. The eyes closed and he mouthed ‘Inshallah’. The soldier caught him by the throat and drew the Kalashnikov up. The butt was bought down hard on his head. Khader slumped to the ground.

The other soldiers had to hold him. The one who hit him, outstretched his arms and withdrew a 0.45 caliber pistol from his holster. It was brought down tracing an arc and placed it on Khader’s head. The silence raged on like a monster. Khader flinched a little. Like everybody he tried to see his life in his eyes. His childhood days, school, house, mango trees….everything flew past his eyes. He had loved only two things in his life, Afghanistan and a woman. One is dead and the other he hopes will survive. The last earthly thing he glanced was the sun. It was half-set. It threw a dusky light across his face. It was beautiful.He was going to die in peace. The glint of the sun shone across the barrel. The barrel was pressed against the back of his head. The soldier looked at his watch and pressed the trigger. Khader was smiling when the bullet hit him. Peace at last!

I was there that day. I saw the whole thing happen. I have sinned a great deal. Bullet blames the gun, gun blames the soldier and soldier blames khuda. I could’ve been the bullet, the gun or the soldier. But i was Khuda, the Lord. I watched all this happen and I live to tell the tale. I have sinned, terribly sinned.


( Idea from a few books i was reading. The scene has been reconstructed .The words are mine)