How was the day at school Abdal? She asked her son after the dinner, as usual.
I gained some more knowledge about science; also, I loved the Math’s portion today. She felt proud of her son as she wanted him to be an educated person. “I am proud of you Abdal, and I know you will make your mother proud in front of the world one day. You’re my son, a good boy”. Go to sleep now, you have Math’s test tomorrow.
Walking in verdant whereabouts filled with the charms of fresh air, she felt like in heaven. The perfectly ripened fruits added to beauty of the place and blooming flowers gave a sweet aroma. Suddenly, the dream broke and the peace was shattered. Her eyes became wide-opened as she heard her son screaming. They were dragging him out of his house. It wasn’t long enough before she realized that they belonged to a terror organization that brandished every passing day in Baluchistan. But her son, why would they take him? Is he going to become a militant? The question muddled her thoughts up. She sobbed and whimpered. It was all she could do. Why my son? Why me? She put a series of questions to herself.
Abdal was taken to a dark place with a bag covering his face. A young teenager had found himself in the imprisonment of a violent group. He wasn’t alone, as there were other young boys with their hands cuffed too. It was a truck, which carried these young innocent boys. They could hear each others’ groans. The truck was taken to a far-off place which was fully equipped with arms and luxuries. Their brains were washed, and their sense of humanity was crumbled. Each day of training was followed by a party to distract young boys and to play with their minds, the way they wanted. “You’re warriors, strong men. Go out and kill them to prove your manly powers”. These were the words abused to evoke the militants out of young boys.
Aani’s only son was absent from her home. It had been three years and he had not returned, as no one did in the past. Three years have passed, where would he be? She mourned and lamented. She tried every possible way to have her son back, but nothing could help her. One fine morning, she went out to the market to buy some goods. The market was attacked by the looters, with modern guns in their hands, who shouted a slogan out loud. They did not mind killing people and burning shops lying in their vicinity. People ran for their lives, irrespective of those around them. In a mob running in a hustle, Aani made her way out of the market through a street. She hastened and ran, with shivers running down her spine. As she continued her way out of the place, a militant came in her way, pointing his gun towards her. “Abdal? Oh God, I found you my son” she said with tears running down her cheeks. He put his finger on the trigger. “You’re warriors. You’re not young boys but men, go and kill them all” echoed into his mind. Gaping at her mother’s tears he felt confused between pulling the trigger and refraining from it. “You’re my son, a good boy” “A good boy”, the words hit her head from within. The gun fell down as he realized that the love of her mother was overwhelming. He chose to become “A good boy” rather than “A warrior”. Aani and Abdal made their way to the home.
Abdal was treated by psychiatrists and doctors. He gave important information to security agencies about the organization. He contributed to the capture of each and every leader and operative of that organization, and continued his education becoming a valiant Army Officer.