It was a small road in a small village, surrounded by trees. Behind the trees was the school building. If you kept walking down this road, you would eventually reach a hospital where a doctor used to sit. He always gave the same bitter medicines, there was no sweet medicine. Immediately after the medicine, you had to eat sugar, but now, who knows where that doctor is, because this was a very old story.
There was nothing special about this road, yet for some reason, I can never forget it. At one end of the road, there was an electric pole. When night would fall, the light would turn on, and all the children used to play under it. When it rained heavily, the road would turn into a river, and we would take our little boats and sail in the water. I don’t know why I still remember that road and that pole. There was a boy who, maybe even now, might be sitting with his back against the tree, the same boy who used to spend every afternoon under the tree. He loved the village, this road, and the birds around it. He loved the village where there was peace and tranquility.
Maybe he is still looking for the school fees that he lost somewhere on the road. He had spent the whole afternoon searching for it, but he never found the money. Without money, he couldn’t go to school, nor could he return home. I don’t know how many times he came and went along that road, staring at the sun, hoping it wouldn’t set before he could find the money, for how could he get money in the dark? But the sun didn’t care and set. He grew worried and leaned against the pole, sitting down.
Maybe he is still sitting there.
It was just an ordinary road.
That boy, who couldn’t come to the city with me, used to lie to his classmates that the birds living in the trees by the road were his friends. And when the others were not around, the birds would come down and play with him. The others said it was a lie, how could it be true? They told him that if that were really the case, they would hide and watch to see how the birds would come down. All the boys hid in the bushes, and the boy sat under the tree. The birds didn’t come. The birds didn’t know who he was, but he kept sitting there, perhaps still waiting for the birds to come down and play with him. The birds were his friends, but they never came, and all the boys laughed at him.
The boy was very boastful. He would also say that he was brave and could fight many people on his own. After school, while walking down the same road, four boys beat him up and tore the buttons off his shirt. He was slapped, and as he sat on the ground, he looked for the buttons.
“Wait, let me pick up my buttons. Wait, one minute, wait… Here… here’s my pocket. Look, look. Leave my pocket.”
His pocket was torn, and the buttons were broken.
“Now tell us, you said you knew karate and could fight many people. Now tell us.”
And the boys left. He found all his buttons, but when he looked, he realized that his elbow was bleeding.
He sat by the side of the road and cried. Maybe he is still sitting there, crying.
How could I bring him with me? He was very stubborn, even though the village conditions were no longer the same.
What happened was that a cruel demon, with his followers, took control of the village. The dark night of oppression had fallen. The sun would rise, but the day would never come. In that dark night, anyone who tried to bring light was punished. The poor, fearful people slowly began leaving the village. The walls and doors were being eaten by termites. The village and its streets, which were once filled with the laughter of children, were now desolate and sighing. Even the pole, under which the children played every evening, was sad.
The road became more broken, and the bushes grew thicker. Only the demon’s supporters and a few others were left in the village, and the oppression continued. Houses of the opposition were being destroyed, and the people could do nothing against the demon. The poor were helpless. One evening, when the demon’s men came and asked us to vacate our house—the house where every brick was placed with love, the walls that knew the inhabitants, and the inhabitants knew the walls—the house had to be vacated. The belongings were packed, but that boy was still sitting on the broken road where there were now only bushes. The school had closed down, and the doctor who used to give bitter medicines had stopped coming. Yet, the boy remained there. I tried to explain to him that the people were very cruel. It was no longer possible for us to live here. We poor and weak people couldn’t do anything against these cruel people. “Get up, my dear, now all that’s left here is emptiness. There is no school, no hospital, and all your friends have left the village. We must leave too.” But he didn’t listen. He believed that the birds were his friends, so he decided to stay there. He remained on the broken road, and I went to the city.
ٹوٹی ہوئی سڑک | Broken Road
Woh aik chhote se gaon ki aik chhoti si sadak thi, jis ke aird-gird darakht hi darakht thay. Darakhton ke peeche school ki imarat thi. Agar aap is sadak par chalte jayein to aage hospital aa jayega jahan aik doctor sahab baithte thay. Woh hamesha aik hi tarah ki karwi dawaein dete thay, koi meethi dawai nahi thi. Dawa ke foran baad aapko cheeni bhi khani parti thi, lekin ab woh doctor sahab maloom nahi kahaan honge, kyunki yeh buhat purani baat hai.
Is sadak mein kuch bhi khaas baat nahi thi, lekin maloom nahi mujhe woh sadak bhoolti kyun nahi. Is ke aik saray par bijli ka khamba nasb tha. Jab raat hoti to bulb jalta aur sab bachay us ke neeche kheltay. Jab buhat barish hoti to sadak par pani hi pani hota aur apni kashtiyan le kar sadak ke dariya mein utar jatay. Maloom nahi mujhe woh sadak aur woh khamba kyun yaad hai. Wahan aik bachah tha jo shayad ab bhi darakht ke saath tak lagaye baitha ho, woh jo saari dopher darakht ke neeche guzarta tha. Usay is gaon se, is sadak se aur wahan ke parindon se muhabbat thi. Usay is gaon se muhabbat thi jahan aman o sukoon tha.
Shayad woh ab bhi school ki fees jo us se raah mein kahin kho gayi thi, dhoond raha ho. Saari dopher guzar gayi thi dhoondh dhoondh ke thak gaya tha lekin usay rupay nahi mile. Bina paisay ke na woh school ja sakta tha aur na ghar. Maloom nahi woh kitni baar sadak par aaya aur gaya tha, woh baar baar sooraj ko dekhta tha ke kahin doob na jaye, yeh doob gaya to andhere mein rupay kahan milenge, lekin sooraj ko kya khabar, so woh doob gaya… Woh pareshan ho kar khambay ke neeche tak lagaye baith gaya…
Shayad woh ab bhi wahan baitha ho…
Woh bilkul aam si sadak thi.
Wohi larka jo mere saath sheher nahi aa sakha, apne hum-jamaaton se jhoot bolta tha ke sadak ke kinare darakhton mein jin parindon ke ghoslay hain, woh sare parinde us ke dost hain aur jab baqi larkay nahi hote to parinde darakhton se utar kar aate hain aur woh mil kar kheltay hain. Sab kehte thay yeh jhoot hai, aisa bhala kaisay mumkin hai. Sab ne kaha agar aisa hai to hum chhup kar baithain ge aur dekhte hain parinde kaise neeche aate hain. Sab larkay jhaadiyon mein chhup gaye aur woh larka darakht ke neeche baith gaya. Parinde nahi aaye. Parindon ko kya khabar ke woh kaun hai, lekin woh baitha raha shayad woh ab bhi baitha ho usi darakht se tak lagaye, parindon ko dekh raha ho ke yeh kab neeche aakar us se khelen ge… Woh parinde us ke dost thay lekin woh nahi aaye aur sab larkay us par hansnay lagay thay.
Woh larka buhat jhootay tha. Woh yeh bhi kehta tha ke mein bahadur hoon aur mein akela kai logon se ladh sakta hoon. Chhutti ke baad usi sadak par chalte huey chaar larkon ne uski khoob dhanai ki aur uski shirt ke button bhi tod diye. Usay thappad parte thay aur woh zameen par apne button dhoond raha tha.
“Thahro, mujhe button uthar lene do, thahro, aik minute thahro… Yeh… yeh meri jeb hai. Dekho, dekho. Jeb chhod do.”
Jeb bhi phat gayi thi, button bhi toot gaye thay.
“Ab batao tumhein to baday karate aatay thay, tum to kai logon se ladh sakte thay ab batao.” Aur woh larkay chalay gaye, usnay button dhoondhay, jab sare button mil gayay to usay ehsaas hua ke uski koni se khoon bhi beh raha tha…
Woh wahan sadak ke kinare baith kar ro raha tha, shayad woh ab bhi wahan baitha ro raha ho…
Main bhala usay kaise saath la sakta tha woh khud buhat zidhi tha, halanke gaon ke halaat ab pehle se nahi thay.
Hua yeh ke aik zalim diyo ne apne haamiyon ke saath gaon par qabza kar liya, zulm ki siyah raat chha gayi thi. Sooraj nikalta tha lekin din nahi hota tha, kaali siyah raat mein jis mein koi agar ujala karna chahta to usay saza di jati, ghareeb darey hue log ab aahista aahista gaon chhod kar ja rahey thay, deewaron aur darwazon ko, ab deemak chaat rahi thi. Woh gaon aur woh galiyan jo saara din bachon ke shor ghalay se muskarah rahi hoti, ab wiraan hokar sisk rahi hoti, hatta ke woh khamba jo jahan har shaam bachay khel karte thay, udaas tha.
Sadak aur zyada toot gayi thi aur uske aird-gird jhaadiyan bhi barh gayi thi, ab gaon mein sirf diyo ke haami aur chand hi aur log reh gaye thay aur zulm o sitam jaari tha, mukhalifon ke ghar tooray ja rahe thay aur log is diyo ke khilaaf kuch nahi kar sakte thay. Ghareeb log bhala kar hi kya sakte thay, woh aik shaam ke waqt jab diyo ke kaarinday aaye aur humein bhi ghar khali karne ko kaha, haan woh ghar jo aik aik eent mohabbat se rakhi gayi thi, woh deewaray jo makano ko janti thi, makaan deewaron ko jante thay, woh ghar khali karna tha, so samaan baandh liya gaya tha, lekin woh larka usi tooti hui sadak ke kinare baitha tha jahan ab jhaadiyan hi jhaadiyan thi, school band ho gaya tha aur woh doctor sahab jo karwi dawaein diya karte thay, woh bhi ab nahi aate, lekin phir bhi woh larka wahan baitha tha. Maine usay buhat samjhaya ke dekho yeh log buhat zalim hain, ab hamara guzara yahan mumkin nahi, hum ghareeb na-tawan log in zalimon ke khilaf kar hi kya sakte hain, uthho mere pyaray, ab yahan wiraaniyan hi wiraaniyan hain, yahan school hai na hospital aur tumhare saare dost bhi ab yeh gaon chhod kar ja chuke hain so humein bhi jana hoga, par woh nahi maana, uska khayal tha ke parinde us ke dost hain so woh wahan rahega aur woh usi tooti sadak par hi reh gaya… Aur main sheher aa gaya.
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