mahad.baig@yahoo.com"It was 11:40p.m and All India Radio Station was playing tunes to pass the time while Mustafa Ali Hamdani was sipping the tea when he received an official important announcement to make live on the radio, "Pakistan's Independence"! Mustafa Ali's face flared up with excitement and his eyes were about to flood with tears. All India Radio Station's walls heard the words before it was announced. It started to smell petrichor in the atmosphere as if it was to rain in moments despite riots outside. I guess it surely was....rain that will wash away all the pain of yesterday.....", said my grandfather.
He was told this by his uncle who was employed at All India Radio as a technician and was present there when the news arrived.
There in a small town of district Gaziabad (today India) lived a family of four brothers and a sister and the parents. Mirza Hasan Baig, my great grandfather was listening to the radio with his 'hookah'. The radio seemed boring today and the riots outside at a distance were fierce so everyone was alarmed.
No one was sure of what news there might be suddenly when the tune stopped at 11:58p.m and "gzzz...gzzz...zz...ye hai All India Radio Station, aglay 2min baad aik ehem ailaan ka intezaar kijiye"
(This is All India Radio Station, wait for 2minutes, we have an important announcement to declare) and just after 2mintues Mustafa Ali Hamdani declared, "Assalam O Alikum, Pakistan Broadcasting Service; I speak from Lahore....".
The declaration was like a blow of breeze in this gloom and fierce riots, the much awaited announcement by millions specially the Muslims. The Hindus' never wanted India to be partitioned since they wanted to squat Muslims and devastate them.
Mirza Hasan Baig and the family were very happy to hear the news and all knew it was time for sacrifice. It was no easy to escape to Pakistan from Gaziabad knowing that rivers of blood were already flowing on their way. It was a chaos outside! As if it was dooms day!
The family of seven set out with the intention of martyrdom, since all knew it was no turning back and neither would be spared by the Hindus. My great grandmother gave a sharp knife to her daughter and had one with her in case to defend themselves.
"Kill them if you can and if you couldn't, suicide! but don't let those devil Hindus and Sikhs loot your esteem....", spoke my great grandmother to her 10 year old daughter while crying. Mirza Hasan Baig and sons had nothing but sticks to defend and fight.
The night was going to take away everything from this family and devastate them! The fate had decided a total sacrifice in return of the gift "Pakistan".
The family was deserted, the line of martyrdom started from Mirza Hasan himself when a Muslim woman was being burned by some men when he tried to save her and was brutally murdered after chopping off his hands from the shoulder and then setting him on fire along with the woman.
The family knew nothing could be done since the four sons themselves were below 20years old of the eldest. My great grandmother was also being dragged away by Sikhs when she jumped into the well and drowned with her daughter.
It was the love for their motherland that they were sacrificing their lives with a smile. A country which was to be Islamic Republic of Pakistan. A country of Muslims, where they would live peacefully and prosper.
Of the four sons only three reached Pakistan by land, while the youngest was brutally murdered by the Hindus at the borders of Sindh. Ibrahim, Ali and Younus were the three to survive. And Younus Baig was my grandfather. He was 15 years old at the time of partition.
The three came to Kolachi (now known as Karachi). Devastated, deserted and full of grief of losing everyone specially their parents.
"...I still cry when I recall my parents and how brutally my father was burned to death and my mother jumped along with my sister in the well to save the respect of the family and her esteem....I still hear her shriek....but I couldn't help any of them....", said my grandfather (I could see tears in his eyes). He still felt the pain when narrating me his story and I could almost feel it. I had goosebumps each time he took a deep breath because with that breath his eyes would fill with tears of grief and pain.
When the three reached Kolachi all three of the brothers were wounded and the back ached. And the feet swelled due to extremely tiring and devastating journey for Pakistan. The devils on their way had beaten, tried to kill and burn them when ever they were caught. They tried to save their lives sometimes lying in between the brutally murdered corpses and sometimes holding breaths under water in rivers and lakes. Rivers that were deep red due to blood and corpses all around.
He told me that when they reached Pakistan they didn't knew that they had crossed into Pakistan but the very different smell he felt in the atmosphere was similar to his house and of his mother, his heart had told him he was succeeded in his journey to come to the motherland for which a million had sacrificed their lives. It was a deserting journey of about a week that took to come to Pakistan and feel the first breath of freedom and the land of their own.
"....this story is of millions my son, you will never realize the pain...", he said to me.
But I could! I definitely could, his blood runs in my veins and I can feel the sorrow seeing his tears.
I think he was right..? Because every student I see and even my friends don't care for it. The reason millions sacrificed their lives and gave us this piece of land where we live peacefully and practice our religion freely. FREEDOM! INDEPENDENCE! No one seems to thank the Al-Mighty for it.
Generation of today runs after materialism and money. All they seek today is a bachelors degree and next, visa to a foreign country and live their life there happily.
No one seems to care for the country and build it when they truly should serve it. They nurtured them selves from this soil and never think to repay it in terms of serving the motherland and make it prosper and shine like a star as Quaid e Azam wanted to see it. The most easiest thing the generation of present as learnt is to criticize the politicians and abuse them on social media but no one urges to strive and serve the motherland.
Today Pakistan needs us the most, from education to threat of terrorism. Pakistan is in its critical era and it needs its youth build it and serve the soil.
If we carry on with this selfishness, what answer will we give to the martyrs who sacrificed their lives for this country on the day of judgement, when they will question us why we ran away rather than serving the nation?
We have taken our motherland for granted, its independence for granted. It makes me intensely grieved when I hear, "Pakistan se Zinda bhag" (Run away from Pakistan alive) by youth and my fellows.
Today we celebrate 68th Independence Day of Pakistan. Lets light the vigils and make a resolution that sons of the soil serve it and make the dream of the martyrs come true. What truly they wanted Pakistan to make, rise and shine Pakistan among all nations so that our martyrs and generations be proud of being a Pakistani!
#PakistanZindabad <3
He was told this by his uncle who was employed at All India Radio as a technician and was present there when the news arrived.
There in a small town of district Gaziabad (today India) lived a family of four brothers and a sister and the parents. Mirza Hasan Baig, my great grandfather was listening to the radio with his 'hookah'. The radio seemed boring today and the riots outside at a distance were fierce so everyone was alarmed.
No one was sure of what news there might be suddenly when the tune stopped at 11:58p.m and "gzzz...gzzz...zz...ye hai All India Radio Station, aglay 2min baad aik ehem ailaan ka intezaar kijiye"
(This is All India Radio Station, wait for 2minutes, we have an important announcement to declare) and just after 2mintues Mustafa Ali Hamdani declared, "Assalam O Alikum, Pakistan Broadcasting Service; I speak from Lahore....".
The declaration was like a blow of breeze in this gloom and fierce riots, the much awaited announcement by millions specially the Muslims. The Hindus' never wanted India to be partitioned since they wanted to squat Muslims and devastate them.
Mirza Hasan Baig and the family were very happy to hear the news and all knew it was time for sacrifice. It was no easy to escape to Pakistan from Gaziabad knowing that rivers of blood were already flowing on their way. It was a chaos outside! As if it was dooms day!
The family of seven set out with the intention of martyrdom, since all knew it was no turning back and neither would be spared by the Hindus. My great grandmother gave a sharp knife to her daughter and had one with her in case to defend themselves.
"Kill them if you can and if you couldn't, suicide! but don't let those devil Hindus and Sikhs loot your esteem....", spoke my great grandmother to her 10 year old daughter while crying. Mirza Hasan Baig and sons had nothing but sticks to defend and fight.
The night was going to take away everything from this family and devastate them! The fate had decided a total sacrifice in return of the gift "Pakistan".
The family was deserted, the line of martyrdom started from Mirza Hasan himself when a Muslim woman was being burned by some men when he tried to save her and was brutally murdered after chopping off his hands from the shoulder and then setting him on fire along with the woman.
The family knew nothing could be done since the four sons themselves were below 20years old of the eldest. My great grandmother was also being dragged away by Sikhs when she jumped into the well and drowned with her daughter.
It was the love for their motherland that they were sacrificing their lives with a smile. A country which was to be Islamic Republic of Pakistan. A country of Muslims, where they would live peacefully and prosper.
Of the four sons only three reached Pakistan by land, while the youngest was brutally murdered by the Hindus at the borders of Sindh. Ibrahim, Ali and Younus were the three to survive. And Younus Baig was my grandfather. He was 15 years old at the time of partition.
The three came to Kolachi (now known as Karachi). Devastated, deserted and full of grief of losing everyone specially their parents.
"...I still cry when I recall my parents and how brutally my father was burned to death and my mother jumped along with my sister in the well to save the respect of the family and her esteem....I still hear her shriek....but I couldn't help any of them....", said my grandfather (I could see tears in his eyes). He still felt the pain when narrating me his story and I could almost feel it. I had goosebumps each time he took a deep breath because with that breath his eyes would fill with tears of grief and pain.
When the three reached Kolachi all three of the brothers were wounded and the back ached. And the feet swelled due to extremely tiring and devastating journey for Pakistan. The devils on their way had beaten, tried to kill and burn them when ever they were caught. They tried to save their lives sometimes lying in between the brutally murdered corpses and sometimes holding breaths under water in rivers and lakes. Rivers that were deep red due to blood and corpses all around.
He told me that when they reached Pakistan they didn't knew that they had crossed into Pakistan but the very different smell he felt in the atmosphere was similar to his house and of his mother, his heart had told him he was succeeded in his journey to come to the motherland for which a million had sacrificed their lives. It was a deserting journey of about a week that took to come to Pakistan and feel the first breath of freedom and the land of their own.
"....this story is of millions my son, you will never realize the pain...", he said to me.
But I could! I definitely could, his blood runs in my veins and I can feel the sorrow seeing his tears.
I think he was right..? Because every student I see and even my friends don't care for it. The reason millions sacrificed their lives and gave us this piece of land where we live peacefully and practice our religion freely. FREEDOM! INDEPENDENCE! No one seems to thank the Al-Mighty for it.
Generation of today runs after materialism and money. All they seek today is a bachelors degree and next, visa to a foreign country and live their life there happily.
No one seems to care for the country and build it when they truly should serve it. They nurtured them selves from this soil and never think to repay it in terms of serving the motherland and make it prosper and shine like a star as Quaid e Azam wanted to see it. The most easiest thing the generation of present as learnt is to criticize the politicians and abuse them on social media but no one urges to strive and serve the motherland.
Today Pakistan needs us the most, from education to threat of terrorism. Pakistan is in its critical era and it needs its youth build it and serve the soil.
If we carry on with this selfishness, what answer will we give to the martyrs who sacrificed their lives for this country on the day of judgement, when they will question us why we ran away rather than serving the nation?
We have taken our motherland for granted, its independence for granted. It makes me intensely grieved when I hear, "Pakistan se Zinda bhag" (Run away from Pakistan alive) by youth and my fellows.
Today we celebrate 68th Independence Day of Pakistan. Lets light the vigils and make a resolution that sons of the soil serve it and make the dream of the martyrs come true. What truly they wanted Pakistan to make, rise and shine Pakistan among all nations so that our martyrs and generations be proud of being a Pakistani!
#PakistanZindabad <3
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