CAUGHT BETWEEN THE CROSSFIRE

 

Maryam stood at the entrance of the sitting room, heads down and her hands clasped together like she had just been handcuffed. 'barka da yamma baba, good evening Baba' she muttered. The reply from her father was exactly what she had expected. 'What were you doing at the scene of the bomb blast in the market today? The father asked. 'Were you not supposed to be either in school or at home helping your mother?' Maryam knew that her father was not expecting replies from her so she kept mute and couldn’t do anything to stop the impending storm from the easy-flowing streams of her eyes.

They rolled down her cheeks and then formed tiny bulb shapes on her chin before taking a free fall in natural obedience to the law of gravity. 'Don’t you know that was a bomb blast. What if the other bomb which the security outfit defused had exploded?' Mr Gani continued. Maryam was now crying for two reasons; her father's hoarse and intimidating voice whenever he is angry and secondly the stark reality that she had endangered her life and how close it was to being sniffed away had the second bomb exploded.

Amid her tears of double fear, she for a moment wondered whether the second bomb wouldn’t have also killed her father. Maybe her father is invincible, she thought. Mrs Rabi went over to Maryam and put her arms around her and drew her closer to her bosom. 'It is okay, mai gida. She has got the message. Maryam next time, don’t go to any place of commotion. It is very dangerous, ki gane, you understand?' Maryam nodded and wiped off the tears streaming down her cheeks as her sobbing gradually subsided. Mr Gani continued his story now with a family of listeners and described the horrors of the scene;
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(culled from my book: CAUGHT BETWEEN THE CROSSFIRE)