Kasab

Silence is a terrible thing. It gives time for the mind to rest. To walk back down those dark corridors, those crowded streets, those bloody hotel rooms.. It makes you remember faces you can never forget and voices you always missed. Silence is a terrible thing when you are lying down behind the closed doors of an ICU with your heart throbbing at each Beep of the machine.

The reflective glass doors showed the pale face of a dead man, the widening patch of blood on the forehead being the only sign of life. I felt the warm wetness on my forehead. There was no pain like apprehension. ’ What next?’ was too powerful a question. It won’t let me die in peace. 

“Who are you?”  - A lady kept asking. I mumbled through my tightly shut lips.. My brain couldn’t lie anymore.. The drugs had already taken effect.

 “Who are you.. Who sent you.. Why.. How? “  a thousand voices played riddles with my brain.

“Who are you..? You? I don’t know you.I hate you.. Who am I..? Me..? "

The machine was beeping loud and fast.

Ayisha came running from the corner, her long hair fluttering in the wind, her little steps making impressions on the hot desert sand. I felt her soft cheek press against my face.. “My sweet little Ayisha” Behind us Abu was holding his Mother’s hand and smiling as usual. A golden sun was setting behind our hut.

“Who sent you?"

Who?God.. I think.. But I am not sure.. I haven't seen him.. He never said anything to me.. But I know the priests..They know god..Do they? I am not sure.. I think they know.. Abba got the money..He can feed the children now..I want to see them smiling happily through their fully stuffed mouths..

Why did you do this?”

“Why did I do what?”
Aazad Kashmir.. But I am not sure..Abba got the money..

The girl in blue skirt lay beside her dead father’s feet.. She wasn’t dead. Her eyes stared at me..Questioning me. Soaking up her dead Dad’s blood, she didn’t look scared or defeated but destroyed-devastated. I aimed the gun at her head. We both closed eyes.

A sharp streak of pain passed through my head. I cant feel anything..I am floating in thin air.


The girl in blue skirt kept asking me the same questions over and over again.  Ayisha lay dead on the desert sand.Abu was holding a gun.The priests and Abba were having their supper. The golden sun was setting  forever. My name is Ajmal Ameer Kasab and I dont know why I did it. Please hang me

The English New Year

There are so many things that come to my mind when I think about my UK journey. The George Clooney look alike cab driver who picked me up at the airport with an Iphone in one hand and a placard reading “Barun” on the other, the friendly ,hot and beautiful single Mom landlady who reminds me of Julia Roberts in Erin Brockowich, the Indian hotel bearers with an accent as good as Shashi Tharoor, Chicken biriyani’s worth Rs 450, Relationships so complex that you would start thinking of B tree algorithms and Kirchhoff’s laws, Boyfriends and Girlfriends as old as your Grandparents and as young as any school kid that you know of, beautiful places , beautiful people and much more.. So when I thought of typing something here, I felt it difficult to choose anything in specific. So here goes some random thoughts..

Ever thought of England as the fortress of Victorian morality? Ever thought of girls with high necked attires and polite language? Well, thanks to my ignorance in world history, I never did and I was not wrong. Girls in England can be broadly classified as four. The teens (under 18), the young ones (under 30), the mature ones (under 60) and the old ones (under 120). You can call all of them as “Girls” for one reason. They are all someone’s girl friend or are waiting to be one. I looked up in google. There is no such term as Granny Friend or Mommy friend or Old lady friend. All are GIRL friends. I am intentionally ignoring the wives as they are very rare here and can’t be distinctly identified as one man’s wife is usually another man’s girl friend. And I don’t mean this in any bad way. This is how England lives. You live the way you find it convenient. It’s as simple as that.

What I have learned here over the past few months about English folks is that they are a complete different breed than ours. They look different and they live different. Almost any girl looks as good as a fashion model in India. You can stare at those lovely blue, brown or black eyes until you get slapped on both cheeks. Those silky flowing golden hair locks would remind you of waltzing angels from your childhood comics .Ofcourse, after a while you might have a slight illusion of the magic wand in her left hand turning into her middle finger. But that’s quite normal. And yea, the body follows the face.

But moving away from my obvious interests, England is definitely a place to be in. It’s a place of opportunities. As for me, it was an opportunity to take my first flight, see a whole new world, earn much more that what I used to, feel homesick at times and feel bad at doing night outs when the people whome I work for leave at 5 in the evening. As I take my walk to the office every morning, I pass a park full of flowering trees. I see an old guy clearing fallen leaves from the green lawn grass using some kind of an air blowing machine and I wonder how tranquil his life would be? To wake up in the morning, take a machine and walk through a beautiful lawn and blow away leaves and earn a living out of it should be wonderful. I look at the truck drivers who bring stuff to the warehouses of my office from far off. Wouldn’t that be a life to climb up a huge truck with a posh driving seat, switch on your radio and ride through all those beautiful country roads, passing snow clad mountains and clear blue streams on a road as smooth as glass?.And those young girls and boys riding their bikes or roller skates to schools and colleges might remind you of a lost childhood. Sometimes they ride cars too. You will know it when you see them wave at you in brotherly affection shouting “ F* You PAAKKEESS”. Well, I guess there’s only one place in the universe were Pakistanis and Indians live in unison claiming the same level of respect.. England !!