Listen Hayat: You left us too early, but it does not matter. You are all around us. Present in everyone’s souls. For life exists as a life forever. It never goes missing.You are a beautiful flower. A flower which always disperses its fragrance everywhere.
Rest in peace, brother. Hope you are smiling with the little angels in the heaven. You dreamt a dream that the Baloch youths are sprkling everywhere. Hope you are looking at us somewhere out in the heaven.
Do you know, being my senior at school, I never knew you. Infact, many did not know you. But today your story is continuously on each child’s lips. For what indeed?
I listen people appreciating your efforts, your behaviour, and performance, now. Alas! They could do it when you were alive and you could feel super amazing. These words don’t count now.
However, I see a large number of people demanding justice for you. That is not new to me, I am used to it. Our fate shook hands with injustice, may be, for each day we are out to justify another innocent subject.
Brother, this life is very disloyal. It makes us dream of many wonderful things and when we decide to pursue our dreams and goals, it suddenly withdraw us.
It makes us sense many good moments and when we try to live the momentum, it suddenly withdraws us. To tell the bitter truth, we are not the masters of our own beings, our lives are governed by others – those who are worst than animals. We are toys for them, our lives are either played by them or thrown away whenever they want.
Preparing dates to sale, you were brutally killed. Life is unjust to us, Hayat. Before seeing your student or citizenship card, how they came to snatch your breaths so ruthlessly. Whereas, I am a bit perplexed for they could kill you with one bullet, why did they choose eight bullets to make you depart from this world? Only to scare us?
Everybody knows you were innocent and they probably knew this too as your innocent face already demonstrates this.
Don’t ever forgive them. Your blood will haunt them. For along with you, they killed your mother alive who yet shares your pretty stories and naughtiness. For no one can replace you.’Sometimes, your death seems a lie to me. Your teacher added with tearful eyes calling you a gem of gems. I see rallies on roads, protests on social media only to justify you.
I hope we win fighting for your justice but after you, there will appear someone else demanding for justice, too. For now, I don’t trust life anymore.
Listen boy, I saw your mother with dried lips and hands holded in front of your body, praying that you could come again but what?
Life is disloyal, dishonest, distrustful and unjust. I am sorry, rest in peace brother, you will be deeply missed.
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