The time was early December. There was pin drop silence all around, even a small sound seems to be hurting the sense of hearing. No one was observed on the street except some homeless insane and few street dogs. Those dogs were wandering around and searching for food. Besides, many vultures were seen flying in the sky. The way people had been massacred in the last 9 months, the vultures had enough food scattered around. The readers who have read so far, must have understood about which time I am talking about. Yes, it was the year of 1971. And I am describing a real event of that time.
The three of them were walking in a row. My father was in the front, my uncle in the back and the oldest person was in the middle. It should be attributed here that at that time the anxiety of the liberation war had reached its peak. The Bangali freedom fighters and the Pakistani Army were firing indiscriminately on anyone they considered as an opponent.
However, the three were crossing Gulistan area of Dhaka city at that time. Suddenly, a jeep came from behind and restrained their way. A group of seven army pointed guns at them. Immediately, three people raised their hands. Then four of the Pakistani army got out of the car and asked them in Urdu, what they were doing here. My uncle replied from behind that all 3 of them were of Pakistani descent and they were going to their hometown. To prove the point, my father also answered few lines in Urdu. But when they asked the person standing in the middle, he was frightened and could not answer. In fact, he was the only one of the three to be of real Pakistani descent and rest of two were Bangali. Due to business need, my father and uncle mastered Urdu language well, which was then giving the benefit. Later, he was able to answer after asking several times which eventually helped them to survive in that journey.
In fact, we have no kinship with this old man. He lived in our neighborhood and married a woman from our area and had been staying here since then. As soon as the war started, he was trapped in Narayanganj and he did not dare to come home for fear of the freedom fighters. But when Pakistanis were seen being attacked all over Bangladesh by freedom fighters, the old woman begged my father to bring him. My father couldn’t refuse her despite the risk to his life. Although the freedom fighters blocked several places on their way back from Narayanganj, my father and uncle somehow managed the situation. If the freedom fighters had any idea that they had one Pakistani descent with them, they would inevitably die that day.
My father is a pro-liberation man. He saved the person that day for only one reason. He believes that our war was against the Pakistani army, it was not against the ordinary innocent people of Pakistan. No patriot can kill an innocent person as the Pakistani army has always done. Again, it proved that injustice can never be won, despite having such a large army, later Pakistani army lost the battle to the Bangladeshi freedom fighters on December 16, 1971. It turned into a history and we should always learn from history before attempting any injustice.
