Winds From Paradise (A ficticious story)

[gundam]

Winds From Paradise

“No! I am not at all disturbed”.
“Really I didn’t mean to hurt, it was only a joke!”
“Yes! It was, but it carried a bitter truth with it… I think its finally time something has to be done rather than…”

He fell silent again; in a moment the world came rushing at him. His mother, how would he leave her? His family how would he explain them? His father, how would…

“Just wait, listen to me Diraar…” but he was gone.

The insect in the silent night of the village hummed endlessly taking no pains in getting louder by the moment… or was it the silence within him that made every edge of the room too audible for the ears

What was this man? He thought in himself, looking at him through the window as he stood there looking beautiful, like an angel. He did not seem to belong to the place. Certainly something made him look out of place there. There was something unique in him though he was so ordinary. Something did made him look out of place there!

Suddenly he came rushing back! “Come here, come here with me…”
He got up and hurried with him.
“Breathe deeply, do you smell it?”
“What?”
“No! Just smell… can’t you? It s beautiful scent… a sweet breeze blew now”
He shook his head in disbelief, it was summer and the air was harshly still, it was humid and hot.
“No but believe me, it was there just now… as if a wind from Paradise. From there it came…”he smiled a strikingly adorable smile, pointing in the distance.

He turned and looked where Diraar was pointing…miles and miles away, there lied the borders and miles further a bloody battle raged where the souls of martyrs were climbing upwards… the doors of heavens were open for their welcome…May be the winds from it had blown a little farther than necessary…









“Get up! You are a lazy man, look at yourself, how big have you become! And you still need someone running after you to wake you up”

“I slept late, let me for a while Mama please”, he covered his head with the blanket shading himself from the sleep killing lights. By the way he thought, he wasn’t running anywhere in his bed.

“Go wash yourself and come down otherwise I will call your father”

Diraar wondered foolishly why his father hadn’t left for work yet! At least that’s what was his concern. Mother wouldn’t have anything to threaten with then.

It was past 11.00 in the morning. Any one would mistake him for a careless, lazy and useless man who had no concern except to sleep until as long as he could. But it wasn’t so, if what he was up on last night is kept under consideration.

Slowly his eyelids slid down again, and he was snoring softly, carelessly forgetting all the cares and even the threat of his mother

“Diraaaaaaaaaaaar!” Came the voice, strong and masculine, he flung the blanket aside, and ran into the washroom, just stepped in and then came out

“Yes Dad! I was in the washroom a moment ago!” There was laughing downstairs and he knew his trick had been found out. Slowly he sat in the armchair and smiled rubbing his fingers into his messy hair. Would he have a hair cut? … What was he talking about? His eyes still rebelling to open, he looked regretfully at the bed, today I will sleep early, but then again he knew at night he would give in to work and get up till late.

His mother came in. “What’s the matter? You are still here”, she smiled, “You had been in the washroom, hadn’t you?”

“Yeah!” he said, and went in with his towel and clothes

Down he came striding and fresh!
Assalamualaikum wa rahmatullah wa barakatuh
That was replied heartily by his family.

“Getting up early is better than getting up till late Diraar!”

Diraar smiled, a smile that meant nothing at all, but was just a smile for the sake of smiling.

His father knew of it too well, knew that Diraar was fully convinced with what he had just said but would not by any chance do as instructed for reasons he could not explain.

“Are you going anywhere, son? You are dressed and too ready to go”.
“Yes mama! I am going to the village as you had said yesterday”
“Ah! My I just forgot about it!” She grinned to herself at his obedience with pride

Diraar was taking mouthfuls of everything that came at hand, in an apparent hurry.

“Take care, dear, there is no hurry, you will get stuck down your throat!”

“I have to go fast, want to return early at night inshaAllah” He looked at his mother with the corners of his eyes, taking another mouth full, “Wont you come mama!?”

“I wish I could but I am going out with your father for a checkup!”

“Hmm! Okay I will go alone! Me done here” he took a glass and drank thirstily, getting up, to make the food go down into his stomach quickly.

“Alright, then Allah Hafiz”
Without waiting to hear the complete reply he went out and off.





The cars passed by, or he passed by them, or both passed each other.
“Where are you lost young man?”
Diraar turned and looked at the driver of the taxi. “No, nothing!” He gave one of his blank smiles which not familiar to the driver were simply taken with a shrug.

“Where do you stop?”
“In so and so village, the road to there is a difficult so I will go by foot after the first bus stand that’s where you have to leave me!”
“All right, you have come from the city?”
“Yes! In fact from the country, from Pakistan!”
“Oh! I see… and your grand parents live in the village!”
“Yes! How do you know?”
“Most youngsters are like that these days, and grand parents find no other place as beautiful as their own little villages! That’s the way it is always”
“Yeah, there are borders close by aren’t they?”
The taxi driver stole a look at Diraar, “Why for?”

“Oh no nothing, I was just asking! But there are borders close to Afghanistan here right”
The taxi driver laughed. “Yes but not that close, occupied Kashmir is closer”.

The reason, why he mentioned occupied Kashmir, remained a secret to both the men who shared only the feeling but said nothing.

“Do you wish to go there…?”
Diraar did not reply, again lost in his thoughts. He hardly heard what the driver said.
The taxi driver took the reply as it was, and left the topic to the air.
Now Diraar was not a fool to scream around that he wanted to go, there were people who couldn’t be trusted and yet at the risk they had to be trusted because there would be no one else.

“What do you do?”
Diraar looked at the driver again as if getting up from a lost world
“I … I … am a student. I study in a university in Lahore”
“That’s nice, you will get a nice job there and shift your family up to a nice income and residence”.
“InshaAllah”
“Where are you from, uncle?” realizing he had been answering only questions and not being particularly friendly as the man was trying to be.
“I am from Quetta, from a small border town there”.
Diraar’s eyes flashed in a sort of enthusiasm
“There are a lot of terrorists there I heard, did you leave it for that reason?”

The man’s eyes turned a little serious and he said bitterly
“Yes! Sort of… lots of them, but they didn’t come from Afghanistan, they were mostly local and came from Police stations!”

Diraar let out a small laugh at this. But there was no response from the other end as if the topic was too serious to be mocked at.

“They arrested a lot of people there you know. And after loosing many loved ones, it is not possible to stay in a place that speaks of the good times you had had”.
Diraar looked at him softly as the car jerked up against a rock on the road, his lips still adorned in a smile, “Did you meet Mujahideen?”

There, the man’s seriousness broke too. And he started the narration of a tale he much loved to tell, but had been locked up for many a reasons.
“I was quite young when the Soviet occupied Afghanistan. A student in the college like you my son, and we would hear about the war and Arabs and Mujahideen, local and foreign, but then there was once, some of my friends decided to go. There were a lot of good people at that time. The center for the residence of the Arab Mujahideen was close to our college and that had an obvious effect on the boys. We met a lot of Arabs there, Arabs who would struggle to speak Urdu and others who would try out the local Pashtun and we would laugh and they would laugh. Some of my friends decided to go and I thought why not I try myself out too. I went, fought a few battles on the frontline but then returned because of a serious injury. It was towards the end of the battles and the fighting was severe, but by the time I had recovered, Allah had granted victory to the Mujahideen”.

Diraar listened earnestly to the narration. And was amused at having met a Mujahid! And that too a genuine frontline one

“You don’t sound that religious when you speak normally!” He said.

“You learn to do that when you try to escape from eyes trying to pick out men for passing them on to the enemy!”

Diraar retired to silence and kept smiling for a while thinking of the little adventure he had had with Mujahideen themselves, those who had lived at their summerhouse. He had made a promise then… a promise unfulfilled yet!





“Don’t go too away you naughty boy!” His mother scolded him as he hopped over where there was a lot of sand that extended to a far extent beyond the pathway.

“How much I wish he grows up quickly” she said to her husband as they walked, having parked the car a little away.

Suddenly she caught her purse, remembering something in a horror. “We forgot …”

Diraar having surveyed the whole area around the house came back to his parents who looked rather panicked.

“Mama, Dad, what happened?”

“Aah we just forgot the key, and I left some of the cooking stuff back at home too! What a terrible thing! Now what will we do?”

“Does that mean we will sleep out in the open” Diraar mused.
“Shut up foolish boy! His mother snapped more lovingly than angrily with a tone of great regret for having been so careless!”

Diraar laughed cheerily and sought their permission for joining a group of boys, old acquaintance of his, who were playing football in the near distance. Mother was for no and father was, its okay. And due to the continuous pleas of Diraar, father won and Diraar was to stay until they would go and fetch the things, which would almost be around sunset time.

Diraar played for a long time. His skinny body not getting the least bit tired or wanting rest. He was too energetic and he would be once running to the right and then to the left after the ball no matter where it went. The Azan sounded from the Masjid and his friends, or whom he thought were his friends, for in childhood, any one who lets you play along becomes your friend, went to their houses, and left him alone in the area that had started to turn a little scary as the night was covering on from where the sun had earlier risen that morning.

He headed for his home too and sat outside on the foot of the doorway. Did he hear a crackling from inside? No! Now he was getting goofy, there was nothing it was only a hallucination. Again there was as if a door was rocking in the inside. His mind tried to make some explanation for it but could not. He looked about, there was no sign of anybody and he was all alone. If he wandered about he would get lost in the dark. Why hadn’t his parents come yet?

Suddenly he felt a wave of courage. He could try to see what was inside, the door was shut and that would do his fears away for good. He got up and pushed the door after turning the knob… it was open! A sudden chill took over him. Had his parents come but not called him? No! The lights were off and there was an abandoned silence in the place. He took a few steps inside as if creeping into someone else’ house

Inside there was a blanket thrown in the hall. Some papers on the sitting table and an unlit lantern sat near them, which all to all he knew couldn’t be his families, though he could not guarantee.

Slowly he heard some voices approaching the house. It was almost dark outside, and their silhouette appeared for a moment out side the side window. They were carrying a torch, two men with very calm voices. What would he do? Should he run? But there they were…



to be continued...
(Please post your comments on the story)

[Umm]

It's full of suspense Masha'Allah. I liked it.

[Umm Ahmed]

I agree Umm , please put up the next part.

[gundam]

Sure InshaAllah

Must come tonight, InshaAllah
Thanks sisters

[gundam]

“Hey! Salman there is someone in the house. The door is open, I am sure I had closed it”.
“That’s okay, may be the owners returned. We will apologize”.
“Be careful, you are so straight about everything, suppose they are spies?”
“No!” Salman laughed, “I don’t think so, look at who our little guest is”
Diraar was analyzing them from head to toe. Young men, shalwar kameez, beard, a little rugged and worn out looking, carrying a torch in one hand… There was a jacket on their shoulders and something tugged inside it.

“What are you doing here, boy?”
Diraar gathered his courage again! “This is my house, what are you doing here?”
The two men laughed out. “Is this really? Where are your parents?”
“They forgot to bring the key they will be back in some moments. We had left the house for a while. You people are thieves!”



Diraar laughed aloud.
“What is so funny son?”
Realizing that he had laughed too loudly for a private thought he cleared his throat and grinned in embarrassment.
“Sorry, I just remembered an irrelevant joke”.
“Okay there we are, here’s your stop”.
“Thanks so much uncle, how much does it cost?”
After putting the money in the hand of the man, Diraar turned and continued his journey walking. Then suddenly he laughed aloud again. I was so foolish. He grinned at gaining liberty to express himself to no one but himself.

So where was I? He thought, stuffing his hands in his pockets and thinking of the two men again, whose face linings he couldn’t quite recall except that they were bearded and good-looking.





Diraar was sitting on the chair in the hall. The lights were on and the men were hurriedly collecting their stuff.

“So you fight battles”, Diraar was eager to know more.
“Yes!” Salman said without turning, collecting the papers. “But we fight gun battles not swords!” He laughed

“I wish I could fight a battle; it would be interesting, right?”

“Battles are not fought for interest my little boy, they are fought to raise the word of Allah high, to establish the religion of Allah”.

Diraar understood nothing from this but nodded simply.
“If you want to come with us you can!” The other man said, “We were going to shift permanently from this house soon anyway, we have to leave for…”

Salman stamped his feet deliberately as if to silence his friend.
“See, we are going to the battlefront” Salman came and sat close to Diraar. “Would you like to become a Mujahid and fight with us?”

Diraar nodded again in admiration more than want. “So you promise me you will come to the front?”

“I cant now, because Dad and Mom will get angry that I went away without notice, they will get worried but when I become your height, I will come surely. I promise!”

“Now that is a good boy, so get big fast okay we need men there, I will tell them you will come soon”.
“Really?” Diraar was too excited and he jumped down the chair happily
“I will come, yes I will!”

Salman’s companion laughed mildly and looked at him. Salman’s eyes were tendering with love and moisture at Diraar, there was in some corner of the world his own children abandoned. But Allah abandons no one.

“Should we leave?”
“We will stay right out there and watch until the child’s parents are back and then we will go!”

They told Diraar that and he sat watching and talking in gestures to them from inside.
Soon his parents voice was sounding in the distance and the two Mujahideen got up and left behind them a heart that had no knowledge of all what the struggle was about, but the statements about Mujahideen, fighting for Allah, front line and establishing the law of Allah would give him pangs of excitement… until he was mature enough to understand the seriousness of the promise he had made… and his obligation towards his Deen!





It was a boring stay. But his spirits were up and he behaved so warmly that anyonw would think he was never happier than at the village. Sort of yes he liked it there, but sort of no too. There was no place with the serenity of the village and its simple nature, but there was a sort of purposelessness there, which he couldn’t stand except for a few hours. How hasty he would be to return home back to some useful work only he knew, and if his parents were present, perhaps they would.

However there was nothing altogether so un-special about the village. There was someone he loved to meet, if it ever chanced that they both were present at the same time in the village, which would happen one in a hundred times if he had come a hundred times to the village. That was not a girl, nor a lover, but a simple friend. If you asked Diraar, he would right away criticize that SIMPLE, is too cruel a word to attach to his friend, for he wasn’t at all simple. He was the only one in the world he thought was really his friend. They had a lot of common things, and what was very common was something very important to both of them.

He prayed the Asr in congregation, and sat there for a while as he listened to the Imaam teaching the children the Quran. He smiled again, as he thought of the Mujahideen in his summerhouse. He was their age when he met them.

“Am I in a dream or are you really Diraar?”
Diraar turned round where he sat in a vague recognition.
“Allah!” he exclaimed “Is it you Tariq?”
He stood up and they both shook hands warmly.
“I still can’t believe it can be you, I did not think for once you could be here!”
“Neither did I, but your profile seemed too familiar and I never see people sitting around in the Masjid after prayer for so long doing nothing! You dress like a city boy too!”
“Country boy!” Diraar corrected.
Tariq laughed, delighted at meeting Diraar more than on his joke

They walked about in the village farms silently, wanting to talk about a lot of things but ending up saying nothing at all.
“Ehmm! How are your studies?”
“Good! I will be finishing it next year”
“Yeah me too!”
“What do you plan to do then?”

“I don’t know, I am not sure about anything. But you know I wish if I could do something more, than simply earning a living and supporting my family”.

“I know that, so do I, and I haven’t planned anything yet myself. Everybody tells me, you will get a fine job, and then you can earn so much and make up such a good standard of living! What on earth am I going to do with a nice earning and a standard of living? What will it benefit me? If I get money what will I do with it? Can’t they think of anything more worthy than that?”
“We haven’t come to this world to live forever?”
“Whom should we explain that to?”
“I don’t know!” Tariq laughed in agreement as if they had discussed the matter earlier and had reached no conclusion except this question
Diraar laughed too, realizing this fact.
“Why don’t you spend the night at my house?”
“I have to go back, there is work pending in the lot”
“Is it that urgent, we haven’t got together for a long time”
“Yes, but grand parents might feel bad as well! I will be coming back for the vacation”.
“That is a good two months to go!”
“That is shorter than a year, like it was last summer…”
“Yes but still, I am giving you (Dawat), invitation for dinner and an overnight stay? Ask if you can manage it?”
“Well! You would rather come and ask at granddad’s house, then they wont feel bad I think”
“Okay, we will meet at night”.
“Walk along, I will leave at my house”
Diraar said nothing and walked along with his friend once again lost in silence
“You are thinking about the same thing even now?”
“Yes! … No! … Maybe, but the village seems so close to the place that I just feel like running away to there!”
“Yes, I do not like the village for the very same reason, in the city … or country, we can deceive ourselves all the while that, we do not need to bother so much, but here… it seems different. Realities make themselves too prominent in this quiet!”

It wasn’t really quite there. There would be so much of chirruping and the sound of animals, cows and dogs and goats. From far away a shepherd would howl at his cattle, or sing a local note that would be such an appeal to the ears. There was peace here, away from the country; it was this that both Tariq and Diraar termed as “the silence of the village”.



At night, Tariq came up to Diraar’s grand parents house and invited Diraar on the overnight stay. They agreed reluctantly, for Diraar hadn’t stayed with them for quite a while. Earlier Diraar had called his parents and told them that he was staying there.

At night after dinner they sat in Tariq’s room talking and laughing about their experiences, some world matters, some family matters etc.

“When I finish my studies, I will set up a huge aid agency!” Diraar laughed, as they were talking about the conditions in the war zones and Africa. That laugh knew the impossibility of what the words meant.

“Yes! And who will take your front line?”
Diraar who was laughing till now, lost a little color and fell silent, serious now.

“Diraar, did I disturb you?”
“No! I am not at all disturbed”.
“Really I didn’t mean to hurt, it was only a joke!”
“Yes! It was, but it carried a bitter truth with it… I think its finally time something has to be done rather than…”

He fell silent again; in a moment the world came rushing at him. His mother, how would he leave her? His family how would he explain them? His father, how would…

“Just wait, listen to me Diraar…” but he was gone.

The insect in the silent night of the village hummed endlessly taking no pains in getting louder by the moment… or was it the silence within him that made every edge of the room too audible for the ears

What was this man? He thought in himself, looking at him through the window as he stood there looking beautiful, like an angel. He did not seem to belong to the place. Certainly something made him look out of place there. There was something unique in him though he was so ordinary. Something did make him look out of place there!

Suddenly he came rushing back! “Come here, come here with me…”
He got up and hurried with him.
“Breathe deeply, do you smell it?”
“What?”
“No! Just smell… can’t you? It s beautiful scent… a sweet breeze blew now”
He shook his head in disbelief, it was summer and the air was harshly still, it was humid and hot.
“No but believe me, it was there just now… as if a wind from Paradise. From there it came…”he smiled a strikingly adorable smile, pointing in the distance.

He turned and looked where Diraar was pointing…miles and miles away, there were the borders and miles further a bloody battle raged where the souls of martyrs were climbing upwards… the doors of heavens were open for their welcome…May be the winds from it had blown a little farther than necessary…





They both stood at the bus stop in silence when suddenly Diraar said again.
“You must believe me, there was an unusual breeze last night, and it had a pleasant smell”.
Tariq smiled “I believe you”.
“And it was not an ordinary wind… I think so!”
“Yes, it was not ordinary, I believe you Diraar…”
They fell silent again.
“You didn’t need to come all the way here, did you?”
“Yes I did, at least I can see you off, if you don’t mind of course”
“Of course I don’t… next time we meet we will go inshaAllah, okay?”
Tariq’s smile broadened a little.
“Yes inhsaAllah, we will, and nothing will stand in our way”

“There, it’s a taxi! Catch that…” and the taxi stopped.
“Okay then, see you inshaAllah, summer vacation”.
“InshaAllah Assalamualaikum wa rahmatullah”
“Wa alaikum assalam wa rahmatullah”





Nothing worthy happened on the return journey. On reaching home he felt sad to see how glad his mother seemed to see him back safe. He wished she wouldn’t love him so much so that he could leave.

But his parents were hiding something else from him too. It was a surprise that he did not want.

“What happened?” he was looking from one face to another to make out why they seemed so joyous.
“What happened, tell me?”
His mother laughed in her quiet way and said that his sister was coming back, and so they were happy.
But no, that was not the reason, he knew. His sister had come home more than once, and this had not been the reaction but he took the answer satisfactorily and tried to ignore their amused looks.

He went back to his room at night. Falling back on his bed, he took a deep breath and sighed. One whole year was left and nothing would happen till then. He would remain stuck there like a mouse in a cage and do nothing. What would happen after that anyway? He would try to move out somewhere, but his parents would never like him to go for jihad. Never! They would be scarred and his mother would cry! …
He banged his fist against the bed. Thousands of people were crying all over the world seeking someone who could help them… and those who could do something have people who cry behind them, just for the fear that they would die. Everyone had to die… better die a glorious death than the death of humiliation and nothingness…

There was a lot of work to do… but he didn’t want to get up. He wanted to be angry for a while and think and think and think and end up thinking nothing. That was the usual procedure and it was useless, but still… these thoughts would not escape his head until…
Until whatever…

He smiled. That was a wind from Paradise, he was sure it was… and how it appealed and called and intoxicated. He turned over and banged his fist again. Scenes from some videos that he had watched flashed before his eyes. There were children crying and women screaming… there was not one place… but there were many… closest at hand were his very own Kashmir and the next was… Well! It was Afghanistan…

He recalled some of his mates at the work telling him “We are all Mujahideen, just we can’t get to the battle field, we are working on different fronts, our media work is a front too”

What the hell Mujahideen were they if they weren’t on the battlefront? Armchair Mujahid? Allah loved the Jihad with sword… gun… he corrected himself… No! No! It was sword… he banged his fist again in frustration. Till when…?

Sleep was swallowing his tired body, but his eyes half open stared into the ceiling. “Tomorrow, I will leave, whether they like it or they don’t! I will… it is obligatory on me. I will go!”

[noor]

hey there I LOVED IT SISSI

WHEN IS THE NEXT COMING!???????!!!!

WAITING IMPATIENTLY....

NOOR

[gundam]

He came back from Fajr prayer, gloomy and dull! A strange feeling tickled his belly. He wasn’t bold enough to go yet… Maybe he wouldn’t after all… after his studies, things might settle down and he would go. He sighed heavily…he was a coward all right! But there were works he had to settle and things he couldn’t ignore.

He came and went straight to his room, switched his laptop on… black screen… No power!

“Amma!” He shouted down, “Is the electricity out?”
“Yes son, it is, it went just as you stepped in”
“That means”, he whispered to himself, “I have nothing to do but sleep”
He crawled over to his bed again… a bed of psychological torture! When would he get the pleasure of going out for Jihad… certainly not for quite a while, but he would go some day, which was not far off



“Your sister is back get up and come here”
“No Mama! I will go and wake him up myself”
His sister removed her Hijab and came upstairs with a glass of water she had taken to drink
“Get up! It is almost noon!”
Diraar turned the other side, “Go and meet everyone, call me later!”
“You will never change”
“Mind your business… I will … something …” he went on murmuring in his sleep
“Yes! I thought for a moment I had some thing to do up here. See Diraar!” She went to the other side of the bed, look what I have brought for you”

Diraar opened a fraction of his one eye

“Ammmmmmmmmmmaaaaaaaaa!” he screamed. His sister went down stairs laughing

“What did you do?”

“Nothing mama, the water it just got spilt on his face by mistake”
“You both are the most naughty children any mother can have! Go up and dry the bed now!”
“I will spread it outside when he gets out of his bed. He must know better than to welcome his sister in bed”
“I will tell you how you deserve to be welcomed”
Diraar stood in his night pajamas on the stairs. He threw a pillow at her. She ducked but failed in time
Diraar went upstairs with a triumphant laugh
“That boy!”
“Who have you got for him?” his mother was setting the table for lunch
At that, she laughed. “A beautiful maiden…”





He looked absolutely different when he came downstairs.
“MashaAllah, you have grown up. I can’t believe you have become this big” his sister spoke on the table

“Where are Ayesha and brother?” Diraar asked
“I came here without them, for some thing other than a family visit”
She glanced slyly at her parents with a smile
Diraar preferred to ignore it again. He did not want to act as if he was too concerned.
“Do you want me to buy something Mama? I am going out to purchase some things”.
“No”
“I will come with you. There are some stores I want to visit…”
“Not you… you will take time shopping I don’t have that much time”
“See Dad…”
“There is no harm, Come on Diraar!”
His sister grinned in triumph. Diraar made a face and said nothing





They were walking out in the busy streets…
“Well! we will go to the library first… then to the bookstall and then for shopping”
For this he expected a strong rejection, but it did not come
“As you wish”, she said expressionless
A little shocked Diraar continued as they walked down the street. It was getting hotter and it seemed best to take refuge from the burning sun as soon as possible.
Diraar’s sister walked patiently in silence. He knew she was preparing herself to say something but was not understanding from where to begin.
They entered the Library. There was silence enough now to start the topic.

“What happened to you, why are you so quiet?”
“Well! You were preparing to say something so my interrupting you would be disturbing isn’t it?”
“No! Not really… I know how to bring topics on”
“So did you succeed in getting the first thread?”
“Almost yes I did! It requires no introduction; we have talked about it often.”
Diraar went two steps further and hastened to open a book.
“Why are you running away, listen!”
“Yes I am listening, tell what you want”
“Keep the book, I am not kidding here, its very serious”
She snatched the book from him
“Give me the book!”
“Don’t fight here! Listen…lets sit down and listen to me”
Diraar took a chair and sat down adamantly
“Say!”
“Well! Its… okay, I have seen a girl”
“I knew it… you came to that again!” He turned and started to get up
“Sit! Listen… she is very nice… religious…”
“Some time else sister, please some time else, I told you I don’t want to marry now, its out of question”
“Lets go out, people will look at us here its too quiet”

Diraar took the book from her hand
“First me here… I will finish my work and then we will go!”
She sighed… yeah, acts like a big brother

They went out of there. The streets were too noisy to talk and she saw how amused he was because she couldn’t talk about that.

After they had finished all his work, she didn’t say a word.
“We can go to the stores that you want now. I will hire a cab…”

“I don’t want to go anywhere. I am exhausted! Lets go home”
“What happened?” He laughed, “You got angry?”
“No! But lets go home”
That no meant yes. But she did not wait for him to say anything and turned round to where the house was.
“Hey! Come on sister”. He came behind her, “What?”

She did not say anything. They reached home and she went to her mother without looking back.
Diraar was smiling. She must have got pretty annoyed. But that was all right. He would make her up. She was his good sister. He went to his room and put the books on his table. Nice collection I will make of these, he thought.

A girl! He laughed aloud. What on earth would he do by getting married, get more screwed and not go for Jihad… was that? He frowned. He did not believe any woman would encourage her husband to go without coming back. He did not know anyone who did that!

He wouldn’t tell his sister or any one for that matter that the girl he wanted must be… well! Someone who would both, encourage and support him to go or would come with him

He laughed again. As if there would be such a girl… well! There were many good ones but certainly not in this land, not one that would make a match for him. Not one his parents would search for him.

This is trouble! Day by day I am getting anchored into the depths of the worldly life. If I do not escape, I will get drowned. Escape…
He shook his head and went down stairs.
“Where is sister? Mama!”
“She is in her room, did you make her angry”.

He laughed and went over to her room
She was sitting on her bed, on seeing him come she turned her face. He laughed again and sat on the chair.
“I am all ears. Tell me, how is she”. He blushed a little at the word “she”

His sister stole a glance and smiled.
“She is a terrorist!”
“What?” Diraar almost toppled down the seat.
His sister laughed. He blushed again
“What?”
“A very nice girl, see …” she stopped. “Well! You don’t want to get married I forgot.”
“No! tell me!” He got up and came and sat in front of her
She laughed again.
“Stop laughing, tell me who is she?”
“Na! Na! Not like this, first you should tell me whether you are ready or not.”
He looked aside… “Ehmmm! If I like her I will see what…”
“All right then its good”
“So who is she?”
“I met her in London, from a very nice family. She is religious, nice… what else…”
“What did you mean by she is a terrorist?”
“She is really good I meant, she is terrorist-ic-al-ly good.”
“Ok!” He understood she meant she was so religious that people would call her a terrorist. He got up, having lost interest and turned to go
“Her uncle had gone for jihad…”
He stopped again, and sat, “What?”
“Yea! I said her uncle had gone for Jihad in Afghanistan. They were living in Pakistan then, and he got martyred.”
“You mean they have it in their genes?”
“I don’t know, but her family is not so approving of a too religious person for her”
“I see… but what about her?”
“She is good, very soft to the tragedies of the Muslims over the world. She would go to tears very easily.”
“I see…” he started to get up again

“Wait! Sit!”
Diraar bent, then stood up again listening half heartedly…

“There is another girl also. Mama and Dad did not so much approve of her… she lives in Pakistan. She is very beautiful. I did not see anybody like her anywhere. But she is from a middle class family. They are good people, I know her elder sister quiet closely.”

“So? Beautiful so what? Real beauty is in the heart!”

“Yea! I must tell you everything that is why I just said it. I don’t know what will anyone do with a girl like her. On all the beauty that she has, she is crazy! She studied in a religious school, and has all that filled in her head. She tells her younger brother, who must be… 14 not more, to go for Jihad”, his sister laughed.
“She is still young and will grow over that inshaAllah, but she is very sweet. Everyone likes her, but her this attitude has put negative thoughts in the minds of those close, so no ones ready for her…”

Diraar nodded to himself, a secret smile on his face. Well! Was he not crazy too? And he knew he would never grow over it!

[gundam]

He was sitting on the roof. The night was dark but a full moon, pretty as a maiden behind a veil sat just above him. If you would see him from far, you would probably think him crazy, a laptop on his lap, and a digital camera in his hand, one eye peering through the focus and the other trying to handle his computer. Yes, he was trying to capture a moment of magic… in his camera, and then his computer. It was a hobby, which he could not develop as his mainstream carrier. But never the less, photography is inbuilt, its natural. And he could not resist, beautiful cameras and scenes that he had the capability of capturing. He was attracted to them like bees are attracted to honey.

He wiped his brow after finishing a couple of them. This is good.

“Come down Diraar!”
“Yes Mama, I will, just give me a few minutes”

“What pictures did you take?” His mother had made some sweets.
He sat down and took some.
“Yumm! You make the best sweets in the world Mama”
His mother grinned and was putting things aside
“I was capturing the moon, in pictures, will you see them, they are in the computer.”
“Yes we will see it. Your sister talked to you about the…”
“Aaaah! My teeth. I have to go and brush it.”
He got up and hastened out of the kitchen.
His mother shook her head. He was running away as usual.

He came into his room and closed the door as if there was a monster that would follow him inside if he didn’t make sure the door was bolted.

“What am I going to do? They are behind me. If I tell them I am young, well… he looked in the mirror in disbelief, no one will believe that! And well I cant tell them I want to…” he shook his head again.

He would have to get rid of this habit of talking to himself otherwise people would think him mad, especially if it happened and he got married. “If I don’t choose anyone myself, they will get me married to anyone.”

London or Pakistan???

He sat on the bed, London or Pakistan… London or Pakistan? London was good, she was religious and all, wealthy and his own parents approved of her… and Pakistan, well! she was good as well! But his parents did not approve…

Think of what you want… she is going to be your wife… another part of himself argued. Yes but she will have to live with my family as well. You want her to be in their row or yours… you want to go or not? Of course I want to go… she should be on my side. Then think of what you want! Think of what you want her to be like…
Well she should be like the wife of a terrorist!

Nice description! Now which one suits in this better?
I have to leave for the college tomorrow! I better finish my work and go to bed. He sat on the computer and switched on the programs he had to work on…
London or Pakistan??!
Pakistan is more violent. She incites for Jihad which is a very good and desirable quality… London had also a history in Jihad, but there is no real guarantee about how she thinks currently!
Pakistan… London…
And the debate continued until he was fed up of it and went to bed to enjoy a sound sleep




He went to Pakistan the next day. Back to the hectic college life and studies. The
New semester would start so there would be something interesting to look forward to. He remembered Tariq and wished they would meet somewhere coincidently, like they had done the last time. Tariq was not in Lahore, he would never be, yet the longing. Anyway, when you think of co incidents they do not occur, they wouldn’t be co incidents other wise. After the classes he went out for lunch. On his way the Azan sounded, so he took to the Masjid.

After the prayer he noticed and unusual activity in the Masjid. There was a man, who was dressed like a scholar, and people had gathered around him. It wasn’t his habit to stick around and watch people who were being given too much of importance. But before leaving, he stood at the door and just tried to take a look at him. There was an incapacitating attraction about him that took his sight for a while and he didn’t notice that the scholar met his eyes and gave a silent private smile to him. Taken aback for that moment he looked more consciously. The scholar nodded at Diraar as he went on addressing the men who had sat about him. Diraar felt his stomach for a while. He was absolutely hungry. He looked back and nodded respectfully and left.

Bunking one day of college would do no harm. He went over to a restaurant and took his food. How hungry he was…







Yes! He stomach was almost aching with hunger. He looked about, with restlessness. The leg in which he was shot had stopped bleeding.
However, the area around was still under the surveillance of the enemy and he couldn’t move. If I do not go I will either die of infection or hunger. Yet in his condition it was difficult, he couldn’t move with his usual swiftness because of the hurt and the enemy shot even at the rustle of the wind. He grinned at how scarred they were. His leg gave a twinge… he gritted his teeth, raising his head to look at the wound, then put it limply back.

“Ibtisaam!” well, it is at such times that all beautiful memories come rushing back. He could remember her smile clearly… and 6 months had passed since they departed. Family, college, Pakistan, Kashmir, the world… all seemed far away dreamlands that did not exist now. They were a mirage that had settled only to reveal to him that he was a single man against a thousand men, a fortified military base, shot in the leg, and besides all the heavy machines, there were huge tanks that would occasionally seem so close that he would fear they were right beside where he lay amidst the trees and large grasses and weeds of the little forest. He felt that Allah had created that forest only to provide him protection. It was a narrow thought, but he couldn’t help thinking and thanking Allah.

Hush! He told himself, as some voices seemed to draw close. Ya Allah! Don’t let them catch me here… Ya Allah, Please!

A boot stepped right beside his head but passed on. He lay there more than horrified at what had passed, the gun of the soldier had almost rested on his nose, but they were gone for good.

I am pretty sure at least someone must have been shot… it cant be that we lost all of them and so very badly

Looks like we did! Lets return to the camp. They are ghosts and appear from anywhere when they have to.

Are you afraid?
Not really… that was accompanied with a sort of mild laughter that wasn’t very convinced.

Cowards, Diraar murmured. Then sighed heavily… I can’t believe I am still here… Tariq and the others, I hope they are all safely to the destination.

I will leave tonight inshaAllah, I can not stay here forever.
He adjusted himself and let the twinge in his leg strain for a moment.
Allah!!! He gritted hard this time, his leg seemed numb and motionless. Don’t worry I will take you with me, he told it reassuringly.

The worst thing was that he did not have any weapons. They would have received them by the next stop, but this tragedy had to happen now. I don’t want to die like this, I want to die fighting against them. Maybe I will use stones, if I get nothing else. They aren’t so useless when you are helpless. He fumbled about to get a large stone, which he got after making a lot of noise. This will do! …

Stone! …it is a bomb if in the hands of a believer. Now don’t talk, he said. You must sleep. Yes, just few months back I was in that mosque, with Shiekh… and Ibtisaam






“Why did you follow me here?”
“I did not follow you, I came for taking food myself. Maybe we can share a table?”
“Sure! Why not! You are not a Pakistani, I think?”
“Yes, and you?”
“I am from Kashmir!”
“Yes, it is a beautiful place!”
“Not so beautiful, but yes it is!”
“So you are a student isn’t it?”
“Yes! Are you new here? I see you for the first time around”
“That means you are frequent here, how come you didn’t know I was coming. They had this notice given to the regular visitors that I will be here”
“I was back at home for vacation for a few days”
“O! I see, I used to come here often but that was a long time back. Things have changed pretty much since. This place is not like it used to be”
Diraar looked uninterested and starred into his plate and ate silently, as if not in the mood of listening to any narrative that might follow

“My name is Bilaal Abdul Azeez, and yours”
“Diraar!”

“Just Diraar?” The man laughed
“Yes! Just that! It is okay I think?”

“Yes it is very much. What is the latest news here about the war in Afghanistan?”
Diraar took a quick glance at the man. What was he aiming at?

“I haven’t been at the news for quite a while. There are many other headlines that deserve importance than the Afghan war, why are you so particular about just this!”

“No! it’s just so sad what’s going on there! So many Muslims are dying and the men who are the force are far off!”
The man was looking outside. The arrow crossed Diraar’s heart. Yes! This was his torture speaking out to him in a manner more manifest than before. What would he reply?

He saw a few young men come towards the café, then seeing the Sheikh sitting with him stopped at the door and waited outside.

“There are so less chances for men to do what they can to help. There are too many obstacles. The family, the studies, the…”

“Yes! There are many people who want to help but fear… and perhaps hesitation gets them down too hardly. It is an obligation though… a rather difficult one.”

Diraar played with the grains in his plate, his face masked with sorrow and guilt.

“Did I say something that bothered you brother?”

“No! Not at all! I fear I must leave now!”
“Finish your food, it is not right to throw it, sit and calm down, we can talk, you are a little confused about something, I might be able to help you, if Allah wills”

Diraar took a sip of water.
“There are some people waiting for you outside”. The Sheikh turned and looked at the boys who stood at the door of the café looking in every now-n-then.

“Well!” He nodded, “I will be available here for the next week at this very time. Come and see me if you want to. I think we have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

He smiled warmly getting up from his chair.
“I will leave the country after that. So this week is it! Assalamualaikum wa rahmatullah wa barakatuh!”

“Waalaikum assalam…”

Diraar was sitting on his table all alone now. Looking very lonely and abandoned. Did Allah, as an answer to his desperate questions few days back, send this man? Or was he a trap? There was something in his eyes that told he wasn’t lying, and Diraar wished whole-heartedly that he wasn’t. He shook his head- tomorrow we will see what we have to do!

Bilaal Abdul Azeez! Wasn’t that name vaguely familiar?

He shook his head again, I must leave quickly; it is getting late now!

[Umm Ayesha]

Assalaamu Alaykum

JZK for sharing this story with us gundam, reading it so pls continue posting

Fi Aman illah :)

[gundam]

Assalamaualikum

yes jazakalah noor and sis UmmAyesha, the next part will soon come inshaAllah
wa assalam

[gundam]

The night spread over the forest slowly, in no hurry to conceal the enemies in their camps, or the hidden wounded in his hideout. More than once did their steps seem close to him… he would hold his breath and pray silently and then they would pass. They were dumb, deaf and blind … and he wouldn’t have moved from his place until he heard that unmistakable sound of… huh! They were bulldozers. Were they sweeping the forest out?

Oh no! Now he had no choice except to run! What would he do? It was not possible to escape and equally impossible to stay back!

Ya Allah! He sighed and tried to get up, you will have to be very supportive he said to his leg! And this… eh, I don’t have a weapon, I wish I had a gun, even a Klashinkov would do…






“Good! You are nice at it!”
“Thanks! Alhamdulillah”, he sighed in himself, this was only a basic, but not really bad, good for a start!
How much he envied those who were practicing with heavier stuff.
“I would like to try one of those…” he said aloud absent-mindedly
“Smiling) well, you know that material is rare, and you are lucky enough to get the privilege of using this one!”
“Uh! Sorry, I did not mean to say it, I was only thinking of it”. Diraar felt himself blush. “I did not mean to, I talk too much to myself… so everything just comes out!”
“That’s al right! You really want to go?”
Diraar smiled, but did not answer and tried to pull some more shots. Yes this was good!




“You like me a little less than a gun do you?” She smiled at him.
“Not quite! I would never have made my mind that much without you, so the gun would be of no use”.
“Yes but you must like it as much”
“I can’t tell you how much I like it”
She looked at him coquettishly, “like you can not tell me how much you like me…”
She was setting the room…yes and there; she bent to pick up the comb that had toppled down. Her rich hair fell over her shoulder. Suddenly becoming conscious of a pair of eyes starring at her in amusement, she glanced shyly in his direction, and then laughing ran out…
“Hey! Wait!”

But she was gone. He went and picked up the comb, I will live up to your expectations, inshaAllah…




His hands trembled, I wish I had it; I would make it out with a Klashinkov too!
His leg gave him a twinge of pain.
Eh! He stood up; the voice of the sweeper gave him cover. He limped slowly taking support of the trees as he walked as quickly as he could, carrying in his hand that one mighty stone
Suddenly there was silence

“Wait! Wait… I think I saw some one there… ”
“It could be an animal”
“No there is someone certainly over there”
There Diraar froze… there was no escape except for a confrontation. He hid behind one of the huge trees. O Lord, I am in spite of all what you have blessed me with, poor! O Lord grant me martyrdom here! But in a fight!

He felt some steps drawing close, it was only a single person… that will make it easy… oh no, there were more… no matter he would attack…

“Come out and we’ll spare you, we wont kill you! Otherwise we shoot… you are alone we know, surrender now!”

What senseless barking is that! Was he alone…?
One of them walked past the tree, but on turning a stone hit him straight in the face…a huge one that almost smashed his nose. Diraar took that opportunity and leaped to take the soldiers gun… a shower of bullets came over. But some how he managed to take that gun, the warmth of its hold was more than reassuring. He was flat on his stomach now, he shot first at the soldier and killed him. Score-1, he grinned.

Then he started pulling back firing the machine gun, only praying hard enough that it doesn’t empty soon.

Once he had reached the foot of a tree he tried to get past and take it to cover on him, but his injured leg failed him there. He had almost stood when the pain beat in it again and he fell down. The bullets were raining down… one of them made its way conveniently into the wounded foot and another landed safely in his shoulder… the shoulder one a sniper shot…

His mouth was suddenly filled with blood and he fell forward, the gun released from his hand. The fire continued ringing becoming distant as his eyes saw no more and his ears grew numb and deaf… the pain itself seemed too far.


She sat all of a sudden in her bed, panting hard.
“What happened dear?” Diraar’s mother turned to her, in sleep
“No Mama! Nothing… nothing…” she got up and walked over to the kitchen to drink some water. She had been sick lately but this nightmare was so scary...
She drank slowly and hugged herself feeling a sudden shiver.

Diraar! May Allah protect you and grant you one of the two victories…
Diraar would be fine… he would be fine anyway… he had gone in the way of Allah… and Allah would not forsake him. Then why was she feeling so scared? It must be the fever… oh yes must be the fever…

Her head was aching and she walked slowly back, smiling at some memory… memory of him.






All she could see was blacks before her… some white lights as she coughed violently…
“Ibtisaam… come with me”
She heard Diraar’s voice close to her… but her legs were paralyzed, she couldn’t move, “Diraar…”
“I will take you to bed… you rest there, and I will call the doctor!”
She felt the bed against her back… then tugged at his sleeve…
“No I am all right… stay here!”
“You need to see a doctor Ibtisaam… I will go and get one! Just stay down calmly here. We mustn’t have left the house! At least mum could have stayed by your side!”
She opened her eyes slowly…
“No! We have had a nice time! If I hadn’t been sick we could have stayed longer! Why dear! You look so worried! I hate to worry you… I wish I had been fine so you wouldn’t worry!”
“Now be quiet! That is Allah’s decree… its nothing like I didn’t know of it earlier!”
“Could I get some water?”
“Sure!” He went over and brought water and called a doctor!
“Eh! I have to die one day… so why prolong it. Don’t call the doctor!”
“Don’t make me angry now! I didn’t marry you for talking like this…”
“Sorry! Don’t get angry… you look so good when you are not!”
He grinned. “You are a stupid girl”
She smiled weakly.
“It’s just a fit, and you will be fine”
“Yes! InshaAllah, but I feel so weak sometimes”
“Allah will cure! Be strong…”
She nodded and lay silently…


“See! I told you, the doctor said you will get well!”
“That is temporary wellness; I will fail again once I get the fit”
“We will go abroad and get you cured inshaAllah”
She did not reply. That was not where she wanted him to go! She wanted him to say I want to go and protect my brothers.

She didn’t know, that he wanted to tell her the same thing, but both of them thought saying it first would hurt the other.

For a long time he sat in silence playing with his mobile, thinking seriously.
“Don’t you want to go somewhere else?”
He looked at her, raising his looks slowly… “What… what do you mean?”
She was feeling weak and tears made their way out of her eyes…
He did not stop her…
“What do you mean Ibtisaam?”
She moved her head away… “No! Nothing!”
“Yes I do!”
“You aren’t satisfied with yourself, isn’t it?”
“Yes I am not!”
“Then what is stopping you?”
He did not reply…
“You don’t have to answer me… but you have to answer yourself! Till when are you going to live like this?”
He got up and walked out.
She turned on her side and cried silently. No! He shouldn’t stay here because of me! O my Lord, I wish I were well so I could help him!





“Ya Allah!” He groaned. Where am I? Am I dead? He could hear lots of noise… but not the voices he would like to listen… they were all western voices… he had fallen in captivity. This… after such a long journey… Yes! It was his fault… he had decided to come after such a long time… when he should have left long ago… I have to fight at this front now… a front where the only thing you have to do is keep silent. And how difficult it is…

I must be bold enough to open my eyes… I must be bold enough to face the reality…
Someone said… “He’s up… I think, the “…” is up!”
Blurred figures… then clear… eh! Yeah he was in captivity after all!
“Good! We will get a good deal out of him, “…” ”
“Dream!” Diraar said… but only a faint murmur came out.
“What did he, the “…”, say?”
The other man shook his head… “Didn’t hear!”
“Make him sit… I will get the doc”.
Diraar wanted to scream… but he just chewed at his teeth and tried to swallow the pain. Almost the entire shoulder and neck were hurting him from inside…
After a while, that seemed like eternity, the soldier returned with another uniformed man.
There was a lot of noise somewhere suddenly, and another soldier, his hand bandaged burst into the room.

“Leave me! You “…”, I will see the “…”!”

He broke away from a few soldiers who were trying to stop him without hurting him and came straight to Diraar and dug his feet into his stomach.

Diraar screamed hoarsely. Blood came out of his shoulder wound, and smeared his body… others just stood and watched.
The soldier came after him again and banged his leg against his head and chest…
You killed him, you “…”, you “…”

What did Diraar care what the soldier was saying… what did he care… O Allah, grant me patience… patience…
He prayed in his heart all the while screaming… unconscious of it…

Someone stopped the soldier… something was going on… Diraar didn’t know what… he tried to think of something… but couldn’t, the pain was just unbearable!

Listen… listen… you can here me… what’s your name… hey… what’s your name… the voice faded away…

Allah, grant me patience!

[Umm Ahmed]

Good read.

[gundam]

JazakaAllah!

[gundam]

“So you are still feeling sick?”
Diraar rubbed his head, “What happened? Where am I?”
“You got injured in battle! The brothers brought you to the camp, but you were serious enough, so they shifted you to this hospital!”
“Really? I felt I am still in captivity!”
“Captivity? Where you in captivity?”
Diraar sighed heavily. “Yes… a short while… but hours of pain even in seconds seem years!”
“Yes! That’s true… so are seconds of waiting!”
“Is this a hospital?” Diraar looked around… to some extent it looked like one. There were partings of curtain… but the place was dusty and low.
“Na…! I mean no, this is a relief center of the Mujahideen, there are more medicines here and better doctors”
“Hmm!”
She turned and glanced at him as if searching for something familiar.
“It was a very difficult battle”, there was a seriousness in her voice, but a pleasantness too. “Most of the brothers were quite concerned, no one thought you would survive…”
“Really?”
“Yes! except me… I didn’t think you would give up easily…”
“Really? He laughed. Why so?”
“Some people you just guess at…”
“Hmm!”
She was tampering around with some medicines and papers all the while.
“You must not talk, take rest now!”
“Cant I have some of the brothers here?”
“Nahin!… I mean…”
“Kyun?”
She turned to face him… “You know Urdu?”
“Yes… and you”
“You are from…”
“Kashmir!”
“And you…”
“Is it necessary?”
“No!”
“Good! Please take rest now. You can not have any of the brothers here because everyone is busy… and you mustn’t talk, you were a serious case!”
Diraar yawned bored. “What about you are you busy?”
“Yes! very! Excuse me!”
“Yes you are excused!”


After a while she returned
“These are some Urdu books I have… have a good time!”
From what he saw of her eyes, she was smiling…
“Thanks!”
She did not reply…
“A book after such a long time!”





“Sir!…”
“Don’t call me sir! Say brother!”
Diraar grinned shyly… “Well! I want to attend one of your classes”
“Yes! sure, you can come to this address. They are a set of special classes… for special people!”
Diraar noted a gleam in his eyes
“Do you want to talk something?”
“No! I am returning home for the weekend so I have to hurry!”
“Never mind!”
“Perhaps we will get to talk when I return!”
“Sure! sure!”
“OK! Assalamualiakum sheikh!”
“Wa alaikum assalam!”


That man is something! It is a pleasure to meet him. Where had he heard his name anyway. On the journey back to home, these were the questions that kept Diraars mind completely engaged…

“Mama?”
“Why are you screaming?”
His sister came to him…
“What happened? You are here how and when?”
“No nothing, there are some guests inside, so go in quietly.”
“Diraar raised an eyebrow?”
His sister smiled.





He had to pass through the hall to go to his room.
“Assalmaulakim wa rahmatullah”
All eyes turned on him.
He grinned shyly. They were people he hadn’t seen earlier.
He went upstairs.
Oh my what is this… they didn’t have to stare at me like that!
He shook his head. No! No! They can’t do that without asking me…
He went near the stairs. And listened…


“He has just returned from his college. Oh yes… he will finish his studies nest year. What about you my dear?”
He heard a feminine voice… what was she saying… he couldn’t hear… he bent a little more… no he couldn’t risk being found out…

He went back to his room. I am so tired. But curiosity wouldn’t let him sleep. Who was this… must be Pakistan…

What did he care anyway… but yes he did…
What the hell… why do they have to do this. Every time I come home they think of nothing else except this. I don’t like to come home… wonder what that man meant… which man… Sheikh Bilaal! I wish to have some tea








“Hello! Are you here… the tea is almost cold now!”
He opened his eyes, tea… what tea? He wanted tea… but that was back then… oh he might as well have asked for it. “Sorry, I will take it at once”

“Were you sleeping?”
“Almost, but I was dreaming… of things that had happened back at home.”
“That happens quite often if you have migrated”
“Yes it happens more often than I want it to happen.”
“How many books did you finish?”
“Just one! I fell asleep.”
“Tell you what? I haven’t finished a single book of these…” there was a silent laugh in her voice. “I am not interested in reading Urdu books. My husband reads them though…”
“Really? Where is your husband?”
“Front line alhamdulillah!”
“I left my wife back at home…” he said with a tremor of regret in his heart
“It is your wish, but I think women can do a lot over here!”
“Perhaps they can, but she was sick, and I thought it better to let her stay in the care of my mother.”
“Good! Do you want anything else?”
“No JazakaAllah! Aaa… yes… can you tell me the outcome of the last battle”
“It was good as far as I know. It was good yes… but I don’t know in detail. They haven’t been coming here for a few days now, the brothers, so I don’t know. There were some martyrs alhamdulillah, and many injured, but the brothers got a lot… the conquers are continuing and”
“I don’t think…”
She turned

“Sorry, I think we have some visitors there. Drink that tea ok!”
And then she disappeared without a trace.

There were many brothers in the same hall, most of the curtains weren’t drawn and the place for once seemed a little congested. He could not recognize anyone. There were many sisters there, many brothers too, but they seemed so busy that Diraar couldn’t make himself up to ask anyone anything.

He wished the guests hadn’t come. But not so much after someone called out his name “Diraar”

“Oh Tariq!”
“Assalamualikum wa rahmatullah”
“Wa alaikum assalam. How are you doing?”
“Alhamdulillah! Diraar yawned, but I am getting terribly bored here. How are things at the front?”

“Hot! Pretty hot, the places under our control are in good shape, things seem to settle down unless there are air raids…”

“Aaah! Those…”
“How is your shoulder?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen the doctor around to ask!”

“Well! my dear, if your shoulder isn’t fit you can not fight!”

“Don’t say that! It will be ok, I am not going home anyway, I am fighting it all out with a shoulder or without one!”

Tariq grinned. “The Amir won’t allow that!”
“He will, I will make him! Don’t get me tensed now…”

“By the way I brought news from home!”
“Really?” Diraar tried to sit up and then regretted the pain that rose across his chest

“Don’t move! There isn’t much. Everyone is fine.”

“How is my wife? Is everything all right at home, how is her treatment?”

“It is good. They might operate on her. I don’t know the details but so I have heard. One of the brothers returned from there… but I don’t really know properly…”

“Operate? Is it serious?”

Tariq shook his head. “I have no idea.”

Diraar sighed. Ibtisaam…

[gundam]

Chapter 7



“Aaaah! My shoulder… “
“What happened?” He could hear a distant voice… a woman’s voice… “can you hear me, please just hold up I will get a doctor…”

Doctor… Diraar moaned… no he didn’t want a doctor… what was happening… where was he?

“Stop it! Stop it! Leave me! I will die, but I wont say a word…”

“We will see to it! Don’t worry about that…” he could hear laughs, but not see anything… was he blocking out??? It would be good if he did… nothing else would matter then.

He could feel tears of pain gather in his eyes… how much more would he endure and cope up with? How much?


When he got up again, he could hear them talk…
“Yes yes sir! We are quite certain of it … yes he is alive… yea… all right…”

“We have to send him to main unit! It is humiliating though that we haven’t got anything out of the “” yet!”

“Lets just do it and get rid of him! I do not like these “” around, there is always the risk of a confrontation then…”

“Yeah… and their voices faded away in the distance…”

Diraar opened his eyes…

“You are awake, take some water, you will need it! The journey is still long enough!
Diraar flashed an angry stare at the man dressed in Shalwar Kameez standing near him.”

“Get Lost! I don’t want anything!”

The man smiled coldly and left the water bottle on the ground…







He could feel the jumps of the car as it made its way on the uneven kaccha road. He was being transferred. Where… he didn’t want to think about that. It would be a difficult truth to chew at. His shoulder ached him terribly… and that made him forget all about his almost broken leg. The only thing that came to his mind was to continue reading something…




What was all that noise… was it an attack… gun shots…What was going on? Were they Mujahideen? He smiled… come on! Destroy them! It doesn’t matter I get killed… these people must die…

The door opened. He could hear them talk…

“No you help him out, he still thinks I am from them, he wont accept my help…”

His eyes were untied, and then the other ties… his head was carefully handled and placed on a warm shoulder.

“Allahu Akbar, are you from the brothers?” Diraar said without opening his eyes.
“Yes! and you will be safe inshaAllah. We could never leave a brother like you! It would be a loss to the battle fields of Afghanistan”

A deathly faint smile came on Diraar’s face, he looked up as if at the sky… “By Allah, I am the one who has been at loss by abandoning the battle fields…”





“This time I thought you would not survive!”
“Why?”
“It looked so very bad… your condition!”
“Its not time for me to die yet… and well! … a savior knight came to my rescue!”
“What?”
Diraar laughed.
She did not ask any more questions and left slowly, when Diraar was lost in thought…
“God! Where did she go? The book…”
“Book?!” He sighed… I don’t want books… I want battlefields…

“How are you?”
Diraar turned to look at the man… who had saved his life…
“Brother… you! It is wonderful for you to be here”.
“I came here for a special reason!” The man came and sat near Diraar.
“Do you remember our promise?”
“Which one?”
“The one, about letting each other know when we are about to leave…”
Diraar moved his head… no!
The man smiled… Diraar could almost see the light of martyrdom on his face.
“Yes! I have enlisted my name in the list of the martyrdom operators… Alhamdulillah!”
Diraar became silent.
“Aren’t you glad for me?”
“I am! But… I cannot get up yet!”
“So what? … you will return to continue the battles…”
Diraar said nothing…
“You wont have to wait a lot… don’t worry!”
“There is only one thing that can compensate for the sins of Diraar… and that is martyrdom!”
“Which will not betray him inshaAllah”
“It has walked past me many a times…”
“It’s the truthfulness in the heart that matters… Well there is another person I have to meet here… and then return, we were just passing by and I thought of dropping here.”

“Let me know when you are going…”
“The man nodded! I will! I promise!”


Diraar felt his heart heavy, another man was now going away…






Two weeks later, Diraar would walk about, against the instructions of the doctor, around the camp and in it. It was a period of silent learning. He would find himself very rarely lucky enough to get some one to talk to. Everyone was busy, there always seemed an urgency… to do something before… before what was not answered. Many a times military planes hovered over the area, dropping bombs into the city. But there was a strange calm in the camp… the terror of getting killed was not much! It seemed as though people had got used to it, and it no longer mattered, and if it did, there was no one to expose that truth!

Days passed, weeks went by, and then a month was done… and Diraar was still stuck in the hospital. He was helping there as much as he could… but the pleasure of the battlefield… what could take the place of that!

More than once he would think of the time he was at home, and how desperate he would be… he would laugh… that was only a part of the past. He had been warned not to apply a lot of pressure on his shoulder… because he stood the risk of loosing it, but what mattered. There was only one choice now, something he had waited for a very long time! It was finally the time to go! Martyrdom operation!







“You can go to the front tomorrow, you have been given permission!”
That was the best message ever delivered to Diraar! At last out of this torturing prison… he laughed. It was a bad comparison, but since the very beginning, if there was something Diraar hated, it had been waiting. I have passed this phase all right! Now its time I do something real!!!

How many times he had decided this back at home… but now it was not only a decision, now he could do what he intended to do!

A martyrdom operation… that was everything he had been thinking about for the past days… “I am happy this healed quickly… Alhamdulillah…”

“Its not quite healed”

He turned from the stuff he was collecting, it was the sister who had nursed him.
“Oh! I just forgot about your books”
“I do not need them, you can keep them with yourself, I told you I don’t read them”
“Well but your husband…”
She suddenly turned away at that word…
“Did I say something wrong?”
“Take care of yourself”, she said in a pressed up voice, and ran away outside, leaving Diraar in complete confusion. He picked up his bag, and walked out… huh! Out of this prison at last.

He received a warm welcome at the front, the only thing his Amir was able to tell him in a choking voice was that his friend had taken a martyrdom operation, and had risen to the skies in a successful attack…

[gundam]

Next Chapter will be the last one InshaAllah
Expecting your prayers!
wa assalam

[gundam]

“You are not crying Diraar?”
Until that moment, Diraar was not, but those words broke his silence, and a little sob, came with a flow of tears…
“Diraar…”
“He had promised to tell me, but he didn’t…”
“He must have, but you might not be available, perhaps things would have gotten too tough… or something”
“He could have left a letter for me…”
Diraar pressed his fingers against his eyes… yes, now it was time

Tariq got up and left, and there was nothing to do for today except going to bed, the night having settled, and the lights taken.

There, Diraar lay silently, realizing a lot of things.
Realizing that the woman he had met at the hospital, was the wife of his dear friend… she was the other person he had wanted to meet the other day…

Realizing that time waited for no one, and that had he missed a single second in taking the decision to leave, he would have perhaps never come…

Realizing what the mentality of people back at home really was…

They wanted to live peacefully, not understanding that peace would not come all by itself, that it had a price, that only an Islamic rule would give them the peace they yearned for.

They wanted to make a change… but without sacrifice…

They cared… but were not ready to do anything… not at the expense of their own lives or money or children.

They lived their lives to the fullest, and wanted to take something from it for the Hereafter. They could not understand that Hereafter is the real life, for which they had to make this life of some significance.

It was a strange feeling of irritation, longing and desperateness… almost like the one he used to feel at home,

“Why do these people live? For what do they live? What will they do with beautiful houses and handsome salaries? Where would all the things go after they died? Of what use is it going to be?”

The restlessness grew as he questioned himself over and over… he sat up and went out… walking hastily and knocked the door of one of his Commanders… the night insect was humming as usual, a companion to the solitary man as he waited for the door to be opened.

“Assalamaulaikum wa rahamtullah wa barakatuh”
“Diraar? Why at this time? Wa alaikum assalam wa rahmatullah”
“I wanted…”
“Come inside, its cold out there…”
“No, I just wanted to… I want you to add my name to the list of the Martyrdom operators.”
“Have you come for this? It could have been settled in the morning”, the Commander said with a smile
“I want the very next one”
“InshaAllah, Pray to Allah and hope for good…”
“InshaAllah… so you are certain you will enter my name…”
“Yes! I will do it right now, go back, it’s very late!”
“Assalamaulaikum wa rahamtullah wa barakatuh”
“Wa alaikum assalam wa rahmatullah”

Diraar walked back slowly… will I have to wait for some more days… its been a long waiting already







“Hurry another front has opened close to ***** area.”
Diraar smiled so beautifully, that Tariq kept starring at him…
“That front”, he said, “has opened for me…”
“Yes??”
“Nothing, its pretty close from here, lets hurry”
“Yes!”

“Perhaps, that’s the place…” Tariq looked back with the corners of his eyes, as he drove the motorbike listening to Diraar, there was a strange peace on his face…

“Hurry Tariq… its calling…”

The sound of bullet shots and cannon fires was audible clearly now… “Lets walk off from here.”

“Yes!”
They left the bike and stepped forward…
“Tariq!” Diraar said suddenly… stopping…
“It’s the wind… the Wind… from Paradise…”
Tariq stood silently…the sound of shots and fires… thundered in the valley… it was a hot morning and wind… there was no sign of any…

“Yes… Lets move…” Diraar smiled.

As they took positions and started fighting, Diraar heard from one of his friends that the hospital had been bombed… and there was no news whether anyone had survived or not.

Everyone has a turn at this, Diraar gritted at his teeth as he loaded his gun again, everyone has a turn… bullets passed by his head… everyone has a turn… his shoulder was hurting him very badly, so badly he wished he could remove it and put it aside… everyone has a turn… he moved to take position at a better place…

“Don’t go there, that place is exposed…” someone warned

“And they are exposed here too…”

Shot… one… two… Diraar could feel happiness from the depth of his heart… “AllahuAkbar!” He said…

“Come here Diraar”

“I shot two of them… AllahuAkbar…”

Shot… one… …
The magazine’s empty… he took side to load it again… but did not notice himself exposed to the enemies…

A bullet landed in his good shoulder… Diraar’s weapon fell from his hands… AllahuAkbar… was all he could murmur… and then more followed… where… what did he know… what did he care… everyone has a turn… the wind… it was blowing more strongly now… and with a pleasant smell… and an intoxicating call! AllahuAkbar… Diraar murmured… smile adorning his lips… bidding goodbye to the world he so much hated… and welcoming his dream… that would never break… it would continue forever…

Indeed… so let the dreamers dream… of dreams that are eternal… that are endless… boundless… yet can come true!!!




The End

[gundam]

Assalamaulikum

Now, here's the Compelte Story for Download
May Allah make it benefit the Muslims

http://www.fileflyer.com/view/apQdaAq

wa assalam

[Aishah]

Wa alaikum as salam warahmatulahi wabarakatuh

was a good read, jazakallahu khair


May Allah make it benefit the Muslims


ameen

[Umm Ahmed]

Ameen to the duaa. It's a good story , JazakAllaahu Khayran for sharing it will us.