By Nimra Jeelani
He kept running. He kept running at the speed of light, at least that is what he thought. He could not stop running, he needed to be there before everyone else.
Jamaal is a 7-year-old boy with brown skin, which is hard to tell from the dust settled on Jamaal’s body. Jamaal races with many other kids and adults for something they all need. Flour!
Times are harsh for everyone and Jamaal understands it but cannot give up. He can’t be hungry for one more day. His stomach has been growling for two days straight now and so is Jameela’s, his younger sister.
He has to run as fast as possible for himself, Jameela, and his mother. This time the flour is being airdropped after two days. Earlier, Jamaal could only get his hands on the half-torn bag of flour, and they could only make three loaves of bread out of it. Not sufficient for them but enough. But Jamaal and his family were grateful to have even that bit of food in their bellies while others went hungry.
Jamaal looks everywhere for at least one bag of flour. He only needs one bag.
“Please God, just one bag!”
“Please, for Jameela and Ammi, one bag please”.
He keeps praying and walking. While moving forward he is losing hope but he isn’t stopping. After searching for almost one hour he knew it was time to go back.
“We will be ok”, he thought and ran back home.
Their house, beautiful before, was now only a pile of debris since a missile hit it. Jamaal’s Ammi was waiting for him at the entrance of the makeshift tent they were now living in. There is no water, no food and it barely protects them from rain. But then this is all they have.
When Jamaal saw his mother eagerly waiting for him to bring some food, he couldn’t help but burst into tears. His mother slowly wrapped her arms around him. Jamaal could feel her warmth. A warmth that would always perplex him. With so much horror and coldness around, how did she still have that reassuring warmth? With little else to feed on, Jamaal resigned to his mother’s arms and cured his ache therein.
After a long embrace, Jamaal was ready to break the news.
“I am sorry Ammi, I tried”, Jamaal said.
“It is fine Jamaal beta, Allah will take care of us”, she said, after giving Jamaal a tired smile that did not reach her eyes.
Exhausted, he lies next to his sister, kisses her forehead, and closes his eyes.
Suddenly he is transported back to his house; the warmth, the nice bed, the food, and Abba. He could feel it. Jamaal could see his Abba grilling mutton for them. Life was all good. All the things were in place. Suddenly at his school, with his friends, playing and comfortable around Ammi and Abba.
Jammal jolted out of sleep suddenly. The sound of drones woke him up.
With nothing to do and nothing to look forward to — he had nothing left to do but recall.
And just like that one day, he found himself away from all comfortable things and most importantly, Abba. For the first few days, he kept asking Ammi when Abba would be back and Ammi never answered, which was very weird. Ammi would otherwise always answer even his silliest questions.
But things became clear to Jammal when they had to move to the tent, missiles became frequent but Jamaal did not know it was just the beginning. The worst was yet to come.
Ammi was devastated but soon got better, maybe for Jamaal and Jameela. Then again she did not have much time to be sad, conditions and situations demanded her to be strong. Each day was a test. Test to overcome fear, test of faith, and above all test to survive.
It wasn’t easy, nothing was. Jamaal has seen his school friends brutally being killed by missiles that he barely escaped. He has been witness to seeing his friend, whom he was playing with getting ripped apart after being struck by missiles. Even his best friend, Rehman, died when he could not survive the battle against starvation.There was no flesh on his body when Jamaal last saw him.
“He is probably in a better place now. Happier?”
Jamaal always assumed he was.
Aunt Ruhi’s 5-month-old son, Ruhail could not survive this situation and couldn’t reach the hospital. It often bugs Jamaal.
“Is it fair?”
With painful memories rushing to disturb every nook of consciousness, Jamaal shut down to sleep again. He then woke up in the morning with the sun hitting his face. For a second he forgot how life was because everything looked pretty.
“What if all the buildings were still standing and so was their house?”, he thought.
“What if Abba was still with them and he along with his friends could go to school again?”
Jamaal prayed for all of this to be a nightmare. But the surroundings, the air, the noise, the palpable scent of death in the air made it difficult to hold on to the illusion.
He wished he could wake up and run to Abba and Ammi. Tell them how scared he was, and hug them. He wished Abba could make him eggs as he liked them. He was drowned in misery when Jameela – crying and coughing – completely knocked him out of his stream of thoughts. Jamaal went up to her, picked her up, and soon realized she was unwell. He ran outside and called his mother. His mother came running back to the tent. Jameela was still crying. Jamaal went out to find food from the neighboring tents, he went for hours but found nothing.
Sweat was shining on his forehead but he did not stop. He could not.
Finally, all worn out, despair-filled, he headed back to his tent. Head hung low, very disappointed in himself and his situation. As he went closer to his tent he could hear heavy sobs. His mom, she was crying inconsolably. His steps caught speed and now he was running as fast as he could. He was praying. He made his way through all the people standing near their tent.
Tears rolled down his eyes. He saw his Ammi holding Jameela’s lifeless body to her chest.
“No! No! This can’t be happening. This is not happening”, thought Jamaal. He walked to his mom and fell on his knees. For a moment he could not get his thoughts straight.
“This is all a lie. Jameela, no no”.
The night passed, and Jamaal and his Ammi could not stop crying. All that they could do was cry. They buried Jameela in the morning. Jamaal knew he had to be strong for his Ammi. He tried to talk to her but she was silent. She too seemed lifeless.
Jamaal felt suffocated. He wanted to run away. But isn’t running all he has been doing?
The whole day they just sat there, mourning. At night Jamaal laid down where Jameela used to lay down. This night was different from others. He fell asleep without much effort. Maybe he was very exhausted. He was woken up by the noise of sirens and bombing. The fear crept into him again. He ran to his mother. She held him close and soon both began to run.
They didn’t know where but they were just running, running as fast as they could. In all the hustle and bustle Jamaal got separated from his Ammi. She kept shouting his name but didn’t stop running. Amidst all the chaos and dust, only one could hear Ammi shouting “Jamaal!”
Views expressed in the article are the author’s own and do not necessarily represent the editorial stance of Kashmir Observer. This is a creative fictional piece.
- The author is a student and an intern at Kashmir Observer
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