That very feeling of being at home, in few hours, must have made them delighted—but then for some reasons, their buses had to stop. They must be wondering, what made their buses to stop near the Kohistan district. The next instant, they were removed from their buses; one after another and then their CNICs were checked. Is it a security check? Few might have thought. But then, something different happened and the bloodshed began; leaving eighteen dead and several injured. The so-called religious fundos struck again.
What has followed since that shocking bloodshed? Condolences, protests, uproar, editorials, articles, TV shows and what not. When this is going to end? Thousands of our shias have been killed over the last decade in the country and the state seems to be helpless in delivering justice.
I recall my childhood, when we used to attend majalis at our shia friends’ houses. We even used to arrange especial majalis, in which, there used to be only us, friends. How can I forget the sabeels, where there used to be cold Rooh Afza drinkin milkand dry fruits in it. Those were our sharing for the holy month of Muharram; together with all the friends, regardless of the man-made shia-sunni differences. Our parents never stopped us from meeting, playing and studying with our brothers and sisters. Nor it was taught in any of our Islamic studies books, that in any way we are different. Instead, we were taught about Islam and its teaching, as a Muslim. But now that we are grown up, the truth seems to be poles apart.
What this hatred is all about and what for? Who are the Jundallah, some sort of saviours of the religion from God? And what religion, Islam!! Or is it just another sectarian outfit, spreading hatred and killing their own brothers, brutally.
The rusty smell of the blood of your own brothers and sisters can only give satisfaction to someone, who is insane. If this is all in the name of religion, then we should be barred from calling ourselves, Muslims. Stop killing your own family.