I
13th August 2000
Khusrow
gazed at the face of his fiancée Shirin and found her beauty esoteric yet
quiet. He was going to Kabul to train as a technician hoping it would fetch him
some job in the Gulf. Life in Northern Afghanistan had become tough as
theTaliban had started penetrating into the territory. He had already lost his
family in the skirmishes with Taliban and did not want to be a part of the
bloodshed anymore. He was caught in a dilemma –whether to build a career or to
stay at home with his love. She was his dreamgirl, his pari. Shirin found his choice of moving to Kabul for one year very
painful but she couldnot bring herself
to stop Khusrow .One year was a lot of time, especially when the Taliban was
making gains in their territory. She helped Khusrow pack his bags, trying to be
the supportive lover he would want her to be. Khusrow kept the photograph of
his Hero Ahmad Shah Massoud in his luggage bag. He took the bags and somberly told Shirin “ It’s time to leave”.
“Give me a call when you reach Kabul” She mumbled, trying to
hold back her tears. She would not be his weakness at that departing moment.
Khusrow went
to the bus stand and felt a strong sense of solitude and emptiness. He wanted
to but could not return back home. The vocation he was about to pursue was the
only means to escape the horrors of the civil war and to secure a future for
himself and Shirin. He joined the queue before the ticket counter. He paid the
ticket amount, which is 500 Afghani, thanked the attendant at the counter and
braced himself for the life ahead.
He found the
bus station unusually crowded and wondered if the whole area was leaving for
distant lands. This feeling gave him a panic and hastily he started to search
for familiar faces. He searchedfor someone intimate, someone who could relieve
him of his enervation and desolation. He
found none. He is upset and glum but then he saw Madani sitting on a bench
beside the bus. He approached him.
“Assalamu’alaykum”
he greeted Madani.
“Walaykum-us-salam”
Madani replied with a grin on his face.
“Where are you
going?” Madani asked and draggeda puff of cigarette. He threw the rest of it.
“Kabul”
Khusrow answered. He kept his luggage on the bench and ordered tea.
“Any special
reason?” Madani anxiously asked.
The tea stall
owner handed over a cup of tea to Khusrow.
“I am going to pursue a course as a
technician”
“Why don’t you
go to Herat?”
“They don’t
send people to Gulf” Khusrow replied while sipping his tea.
“Oh! You want
to work in Gulf” said Madani. His voice had a rather disparaging tone.
“Well it’s a
great coincidence! I am also going to Kabul. Now I have someone to talk en
route.” Madani speaks with smile.
The bus driver
started honking the horn and both Khusrow and Madani boarded the bus. They sat
in adjacent seats and talked for sometime about the lackadaisical state of
transport in their area. Madani dozed off after
ten minutes and Khusrow was struck back by the sense of solitude.
Reminisces of him and Shirin , their moments of joy and playfulness overwhelmed
him and he felt a soothing silence even though the crowded bus was making
enormous noise.
The bus
reached Kabul in the morning. After collecting his luggage Khusrow went over to
Madani to bid farewell.
“Where will
you stay” Madani asked him.
“I will
find some cheap lodge”
“Why don’t you
live at my place?” Madani offers as he lights a cigarette.
“Do you have
extra space for me? I don’t want to be a burden Madani.” Khusrow asked rather
hesitantly.
“I have enough
space to accommodate people from Northern Afghanistan!” Madani said, his tone
getting pompous. Madani liked played the gold-hearted big brother.
“OK then”
Khusrow nodded in affirmation.
| II |
Khusrow and
Madani hailed a taxi and reached Madani’s place. Actually it was no personal
residence but a campus of a mosque. Khusrow sees many young people in the
campus. Madani takes him to a room asks him to freshen up and rush to the
institute where he was to take admission. Madani instructs him to come back at
1:00 to participate in the Friday prayer
, affectionately called the
Namaz-i-Jumma. Khusrow completed the admission procedure and returned to
the mosque at 12:50 to the mosque. Madani
escorted himto the Mosque. He told Khusrow that all the residents of the
campus and even notable Kabul residents came to pray at the mosque.
After the Prayers, the Chief Imam of the
mosque started to address the gathered prayees from an elevated platform. He
was dressed in lush silk robes and adorned a Turkish headgear.
“In Palestine, every day hundreds of our
brothers and sisters are killed by the forces of Kuffaars. These Zionists, these filthy Jews do not allow our
children to grow up. They butcher babies, rape our pious sisters and humiliate
the elderly. America is supporting the enemies of Muslims all over the globe be
it Palestine,India,Lebanon, Bosnia,Chechanya. We are killed because we follow
the true path of Allah. There is a conspiracy of non-Muslims to decimate Islam
from the earth. But they do not know the power of Islam. We will keep resisting
against this agenda of the infidels and shall we have to sacrifice our life to
destroy America, we will do that with
pride on our faces.”
It appeared as
if the Imam had administered a tonic of enthusiasm among the crowd. Chants of
‘God is Great, Allah-hu-Akbar’ went up. The Imam’s face tightened as he
thundered his last message“ Every Muslim will take down with him hundred
Infidels!!”
This was
nothing new to Khusrow. He had heard the same words back home .However the
context was different and so were those who raised the slogan. The Northern
alliance was fighting against the triple evils of Taliban, Al-Queda, and
Pakistan. Northern Alliance was waging war for democracy, rights, economic and
social prosperity. It opposed the harsh dictatorship of Taliban and also the Saudi Wahaabi brand of Islam.
Khusrow felt uncomfortable. He knew such instigations by the clergy would lead
to more bloodshed. They cried Allah-hu-Akbar to oppose the Unislamic ‘Islam’
the Taliban was championing.
He came back
to his room and was imagining the wonderful life he would have in Gulf when
there was a knock on his door .
“The Imam
wants to meet you”.A boy dressed in wearing Taqiyah
and kurtah told him. He was no
more than 15.
“Why ?”
“I am just a
messenger. I do what the Imam asks me to do” the boy replied and walked away.
Khusrow went
to meet the Imam. He saw around 20 young
boys standing around the Imam.The Imam is six foot tall, fair skinned, long
beard, very much in shape. He notices the Turkish headgear on his head. Many
copies of the Quran are kept on the table.
The Iman looked calm. He asked one of the young boys to fetch water for
everyone. With a serene smile on his face and a rather nonchalant manner, he
spoke “Don’t you all feel sad about the condition of fellow Muslims in Lebanon,
Chechanya, India and Palestine”
He paused and
took a sip of water. Then he continued with the same composure.
“Every day
they are killed by infidels like insects in many parts of world.They are not
bad people. They follow Islam. They don’t indulge in the haram.”The Imam’s rhetoric gained a few nods from the young boys
present.
“America is
facilitating their death. America is funding to kill all the Muslims of the
world” Imam stood up and placed his hands on his waist.
“You all are
from Northern Afghanistan. We are not fighting with Northern Alliance with the
lust for money or gold or women. We already have the greatest wealth – the
knowledge of Allah! Our aim is to consolidate the Ummah. The Quran commands every faithful to foster the Ummah and lead them on the path
prescribed the Allah and his Prophet.”
The Imam lent
out a breath sipped some more water and continued.
“Massoud lusts
for power. He wants to live like a king. He wants you all to be dumb as sheep.
He opposes the Northern Afghanistan to join the Ummah so that he can enjoy his personal fief.”
The Imam’s
expression changed. His tone grew stern.
“Allah has
sent you to me with a divine purpose. You have to raise Jihad against the
infidels.”
He looked
towards Khusrow. Khusrow was dumbfounded and could find nothing to speak. Imam
places his hands on his shoulders and speaks to the rest of the assembled youth
“Think about it. Your true purpose of life is being communicated to you.”
One middle
bald aged man entered the room and ordered the assembled to follow him. They were taken into a dark,
claustrophobic room. The bald man started a projector and white flashes of
videos appeared on the wall. There was
crowd of people dressed in what Khusrow felt was a darker shade of
Orange. They were carrying swords and tridents and ransacking home. Following the video pictures
were shown of deadbodies and weeping women .
A caption stating ‘Muslims killed in India by Idolators’ appeared next.
After a moment of pause, another video was played.Israeli forces were killing
Palestinians. Expression of anger appeared on the faces of many young men. One
was punching his right fist into the
left palm. Another one loudly proclaimed “ I shall behead every sister-sleeping
Infidel !”
A silhouette
appeared on the screen. The assembled
men turned to see who had come in front of the projector. Lights were turned
on. It was the Imam. With a stout face he said
“Islam needs you. Get ready to do something
for Islam. Break the boundaries of nation, ethnicity, race and community. Fight
for Islam. Islam is in danger!!” Imam’s voice got shriller as he spoke the last
sentence.
The bald man
instructed them to return to their respective rooms and get busy with their
daily work.
Khusrow talked
to nobody but he could feel the charged atmosphere. He went to the dining hall,
had the food and returned to his room to sleep.
| III |
Next day,
Khusrow started his classes at the polytechnic institute. The Soviets had built
it to support and develop the Afghan people. That was at the time when the
communist had ruled over Afghanistan. Most of Soviet infrastructure had been
looted or plundered but the building survived. During the lunchtime he
overheard the same discussion- The Plight of Muslims. Even while meeting with
his instructor in the staff room he overheard the same phrases; Bosnia, India,
Chechanya, Lebanon. He came back at 6 in the evening. While strolling across
the mosque campus he saw group of people watching videos of Israeli assault on
Gaza. It appeared to him that discussion on ‘The persecution of Muslims’ was
the opium of the Kabuli people.
He thought of
telling this to Shirin but then thought that it would perturb her. They talked
normal things and while ending the call she said she missed him.
---------- xxx
–
The mosque
campus where Khusrow lived followed a typical routine. Evenings were dedicated
to teaching the religious scriptures. After dinner the residents assembled in
the courtyard to watch video lectures of
preachers and leaders. Themes were religious but mostly echoed the
resentment of non-Muslim societies.
First Khusrow
kept away from the discussion and debates but the solitude became unbearable.
He needed company. He needed people to talk to.
He initiated conversations with co-residents and made a few friends.
However the chief topic of discussion was always Muslims v/s Non Muslims, West
v/s Islamic world and so on. All this started to influence Khusrow. They say
it’s hard to come out a coal mine without stains on your clothes. Three months
into the mosque campus, he too became actively engaged in talks of religion.
The videos and preachings had shadowed him. Like other residents of the mosque
campus, he started to vilify the
non-Muslim nations. He grew very passionate while speaking of Palestinians or
Chechans. His ambition of building a life in Gulf gave precedence to the desire
to become a pious follower of the faith. Calls to Shirin grew shorter and
fewer.
-------------
Six months
into Kabul, Khusrow had become a part of the Imam’s core team. He had a mediocre
performance in his course but he had gained the Imam’s admiration. He
hadn’t called Shirin in a month. From the love of his life, she had become a
scant memory from a distant past.
That day after
the Imam’s evening lecture on the
rightful conduct of women in Islam ,the Imam asked him to accompany him for
dinner. Inside the Imam’s chambers, he saw two strangers sitting and four of
the campus’s residents standing beside them.
“What can you
do for your religion?” The Imam asked Khusrow
“Anything”
with a strong confidence, Khusrow told.
“Anything
means you can even kill yourself to save Islam” Imam asked with curiosity
“Yes, I can.”
Khusrow replies firmly.
“Praise be to
the Lord! Your time has came to serve Islam and attain paradise”
“Order me”
“You have to go
to Takhar province and kill Rahmani of Northern alliance. That man has lost all
his shame and is hand-in-glove with the Americans. He eats pork and drinks
wine. His women are shameless as a harlot.”
“ I shall wipe
that evil soul from the planet.” Khusrow promised.
That very
night Khusrow was sent to Al-Qaeda camp. He was trained as a suicide bomber. He
was taught certain religious texts which sanctioned suicide bombing. Khusrow
felt he no longer feared death for he
was being awaited in paradise. The trainers at the camp brainwashed him to
prevent the possibility of chicken-heartedness at the last moment. Khusrow met
others from across the globe training as mujahidin
with the Al-Qaeda.
Then on 4th
September 2001 he was given the date of his mission. Two days later he was to
execute Rahmani. He left for Northern Afghanistan that very night.
| IV | |||
Khusrow
reached his home early in the morning. He had come back a year later, beard
flowing till his pectorals. Not much had changed there except a few painted
houses had come up. ‘Lavish ostentations of the impure Muslims’ he thought. Two
men from the Al-Qaeda camp were also with him.
Shirin came to
meet him. The two men left the house on pretext of going to the market. He saw
Shirin but couldn’t muster the courage to look her in the eye. She had loved
him intensely. She was his pari and he had forsaken her. He tries to remember
the teachings he was taught to repeat in his mind whenever he felt weak and
courage-less. He kept reminding himself not to be weak at that moment. But
Shirin’s face – it was a passport to an innocent past. Guilt heavied upon
Khusrow.
Shirin found
Khusrow distracted. She came near
Khusrow and kept her hands on his shoulder.
“You are
missing your family members who were killed on this day in 1998? ” Shirin’s voice was imbued with fondness.“Taliban has not only
spoiled your future but the past, present and future of this country. They have
to pay for your loss and the losses incurred by all the people in their unholy
war” the firmness in Shirin’s voice had gone stronger,“They endanger the existence of the people of this country”
Khusrow’s
guilt grows stronger for he had forgotten the date of the demise of his family.
“Their war is
not unholy. They are fighting for Islam” Khusrow mumbled rather slowly,“They
are waging war against those who want to destroy Islam. They are fighting
against those who are killing Muslims . Israelis, Americans .”
“Khusrow! What
has happened to you. You are taking sides of those who orphaned you and many
other like you. You think only Taliban following Afghanis are Muslims.” Shirin
got angry yet concerned for the changed Khusrow.
Khusrow
mustered the courage and relied with a stiff face “ You have shed all the
etiquettes of a pious woman. Don’t we defend ourselves against those who attack
us and our faith? Someone has to fight for the orphaned kids of Palestine and
Chehcanya”
“ So you find
it reasonable to orphan others to avenge for orphans. Tell me where in the
Quran is murder justified?. Jihad is
to kill the sinner behaviour and attitudes of our inner self. Jihad is against the untruthfulness of
our self, against the infidelity of our soul”
Shirin sternly questions Khusrow.
“Will religion
of our infallible Prophet tell anyone to kill ? Religion is all about the existence
of the life on this earth.” Shirin sat on achair and took a deep breath.
Suddenly, the two men from the camp entered the room
and askedKhusrow to come out. They told Khusrow that the bombs were ready.
Khusrow told them to get some sleep. Khusrow came inside the house. Shirin had
already left.
Khusrow went
to bed thinking about Taliban and Islam. The homecoming had somewhat brought
back the old Khusrow, the one who cheered Ahmed Shah Massoud and his
humanitarian ideas. It dawned upon Khusrow that Taliban was aspiring for a draconian monopoly of Islam in Afghanistan.
But what about protecting Islam? Khusrow dwells in this mental agaony until he
falls asleep.
In the
morning, all three men went for prayers to
a nearby mosque. They came back to Khusrow’s house and wore
explosives inside their clothes. The two men had arranged for an old
car. They left for the place where
Rahmani had organised a popular gathering of the common people to
address their problems. As they travelled Khsurow saw the fields he used to
play as a kid. He crossed the graveyard where his family was buried. He also
went past th town hall where he had met the Charimsatic Lion of Panjshir Ahmed
Shah Massoud. He remembered the sacrifices of his family members. As he crosses
the hospice, he sees several people orphaned, killed, maimed by the attacks of
Taliban. Yes Khusrow knew it was the Taliban, trying to win over the last
bastions of independent Afghanistan.
Khusrow was
torn between choosing to save the religion and or save the people. Rahmani’s
death would weaken the Northern Alliance and Taliban could easily run over the
area in a day or two. Then Massoud’s neck would be within Taliban’s reach.
He asks the
two men if they thought they were murdering fellow humans? They replied unequivocally
that they were doing the duty of a
faithful Muslim and killing the allies
of infidels . They also reprimanded him
for losing determination at the last moment.
It was
ironically, that moment when Khusrow mustered immense determination. He stopped
the car.
One of his
co-passengers “why did you stop. Are you planning to run away? Coward!.”
“ I wish to
pray for the last time. I wish to say my last prayers before I meet my Lord in
paradise” Khusrow replied calmly.
The two men
relaxed and with jubiliation started to lay down Prayer mats at the side of the
road. They prayed with extreme devotion. As soon as the three embraced in a
parting farewell, Khusrow pressed the detonator.
Written By:- Satyanand Vatsa & Shrey Vats
