Winters

As I crouch today in the pit, I remember winter of a different kind. I was a little boy, all of 3, who scampered around the house.

His ma, da, sisters used to try and outdo one another only to lay their hands on Farooq. Who is me. To them, he was this little precious gem that they could never lay their hands on. And each had a different way of cornering little Farooq. Like sister Saira who would immediately start blowing kisses at his tin soldier or sister Alifeyah who would try to run the other way round to catch up. His ma could never catch him but she always knew how. And the smartest was da. He would spring out of nowhere, pull Farooq up, sky high till he squealed in a mix of fear and thrill.

The family would all gather near the fire and warm themselves in the glow. So when Farooq's nose turned a little crimson, da would quickly massage the tip for him. The warmth of being engulfed in his black hideous blanket and sitting by the fire in winter.

How I wish!

Today there is no one. A dark pit. a dark past. I wish I could scamper out and run into da. But this winter isnt as warm. And not in the least friendly. I am extremely cold, frostbites and bruises hurting me. A chilly winter. And I havent eaten for days. Childhood and innocence are forgotten days. Yet today I seem to reminisce the only good times in my life.

Da died, alongwith the rest. God has his ways just like man. Sickness, terror, trauma. And I know I am not far. This pit may last me out for a day to 3 days at the most. But trapped behind enemy lines, I am as good as dead. I can half see my enemy trying to outwit or outflank me. And I lie in quiet wait for imminent capture.

And then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I am pulled up, sky high. I hear the fireworks continue down below, but my da, he has veiled the land below in dark and is leading me to the warmth of the glow.