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He screamed her name as he clutched her body tightly.
He could feel her grow limp in his arms.
"Rizwaan" he screamed as he saw a familiar face. Relief flooded him.
Rizwan hurried over to him and helped him carry her to the jeep. He climbed in the backseat with her and held her close, tears falling thickly.
As Rizwan sped through the ruined city he murmered to her.
"Stay awake Aliya. Don't leave me. Just stay awake." He chanted as he rubbed her hands in his, trying to revive her.
His jeans was getting soaked with her blood.
"Get Zakeer" he screamed at Rizwan as he carried Aliya in his arms to a tent.
He laid her down gently, his heart beating franctically.
He could hear the bombings in the distance. He could imagine the men struggling to protect their families. The women wailing for the children.
He could visualise a lone child, crying, unable to understand the sudden noises.
But for once, he could not bring himself to care.
Because he feared for her life.
He choked back a sob as he placed his hand over her wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
"Don't die on me." He cried.
"Please,please. Please. For your ammi-abbu, for your Ayat. For you Allah. Please dont die. For-for me." He placed a kiss on her brow. Tears were falling rapidly now as desperation clawed its way inside his heart.
"Please Aliya, I love you." He let out a strained laugh, his throat constricting around the words, making his voice hoarse.
"I do. I do. You know that. I can-" he choked again.
"I wont live without you." He broke down.
"Zain, step aside." Said a voice.
"No- no! Please."
"Zain, I need to tr-"
"I can't!"
"ZAIN, STEP ASIDE. SHE WILL DIE. I NEED TO TREAT HER ASAP!" the voice snapped.
He came out of his shock and held Zakeer by the collor-"Make sure she is alright. I need her."
Zakeer nodded curtly and told Rizwan "treat his wounds. Don't let him come in."
As Rizwan dabbed medicine on Zain's wounds, he was in a void.
His soul was inside the tent,fighting for her life.
And for the first time in his life, he prayed.
To Him.
For her.
For himself.
He watched the red dusk sky settle and turn into a beautiful purple.
The beauty was lost on him.
He closed his eyes,exhausted.
He could hear the guns going silent.
He could hear women sobbing, their wails peircing the night sky.
He could hear the children crying for food.
They should be covering all this a small part of his mind told him. He looked around to see Rizwan absent.
The rest of the crew will take care of it.
He recollected the time when he got the news that he will cover the bombings in Gaza. He was overjoyed. It was like a field reporters dream come true.
But had immediately frowned when he found out she was his co-reporter.
"She can't come" he quipped furiously to the board.
And when she found out about his rebuke, she had hissed "Why the hell do you care? It's none of your business. My job. My life."
Her eyes were glaring daggers at him.
"You can die!" He exclaimed.
"So can you"
"I can take care of myself."
"Oh, so I can't?"
"You are reckless."
"So are you! Its part of our jobs. Give me a valid reason why I shouldn't go. Then I won't"
She started walking away.
"I love you."
She stopped in her tracks.
"I do." His voice desperate.
"Where was this love" she spat, not turning around, "when you slept with me? It was a month ago. You ran off."
"Aliya, you don-"
"I don't want to understand."
"Aliya,please-"
She walked off. He had tried calling her so many times. She did not pick up.
Neither she came to office. The next he saw her was at the airport two weeks later.
Both did not speak to one another.
He regretted it now.
'War' he thought bitterly, 'is a very ugly thing. People are fighting a war that is not their's. Someone sacrifices their life so that a child could have a future.'
He snorted. "Humanitarian, my foot."
The truce that was called upon the Hamas and the Israelis was.the reason she ventured out on the street looking for a weeping child.
"How can they call anything humanitarian if they don't have a single ounce of humanity left in them?" He wondered.
The night fell and he started feeling restless.
She should not die. He chanted over and over.
"Please Allah. Usse marne mat dena. Usse apne paas mat bulana. I have yet to love her." He cried softly.
He was riddled with anxitey and worry resided permenantly in his heart.
But he did not give up hope yet.
Not yet. He kept saying to himself.
"Zain" Zakeer called. "You can come in."
His heart missed a beat. Breath abate, he walked in the tent, his legs feeling like jelly.
"Aaliya" he screamed softly.
His knees gave way as he met her eyes. He crawled over to her and cupped her face.
"You-yo" he broke "I hate you" he whispered and kissed her brow.
"She needs rest Zain. And I have a bad news."
"What?" They both croaked.
"You lost your baby Aliya."
His hearted skidded to a halt.
His eyes wide, he looked at her.
She looked equally horrified.
"I was pregnant?" She asked, her voice small.
Zakeer nodded. "I am sorry. The baby was only 2 months."
Her hand went to her stomach.
"Oh" she said,her voice small.
Zakeer left,leaving both of them alone.
She met his eyes, hers grieving, his shocked.
"It must have been mine. I was going to be a father." Silent tears trickled down his cheeks.
"Our baby" she whispered.
Her chest started heaving, sobs racked through her body.
"We.. we were.."
"I know" he tried grasping the fact.
A whimper left her lips.
He immediately was at her side.
He hugged her tightly.
"We were going to have a baby Zain." She cried.
He held her head on his lap, his tears falling onto her face.
"Our baby Zain" she cried into his shirt. "I was going to have a-" and she could continue no more.
And he cried with her.
He thought of something consoling to say.
His mind drew up a blank.
After all, it was not okay. It will not be alright.
It was their baby.
An innocent life. A life which was their responsibility.
Until now, if someone would have asked him about family, he would say he was not ready.
Now? He was mourning for the moments he will miss in his life.
Their child's first day at school. Her first word. Her because he now he wanted a girl. Her first accomplishment. Her first step. Him teaching her cycling. Him scaring away her first boyfriend. Him givinng her off in her marriage.
And when he and Aliya would reach their 50's, the first grandchild.
But he could not do any of those above. Because his princess was killed. In a war that was not her fault.
Her death, unknown to many. Her sacrifice in waste.
And he sat their with his love, weeping for his unborn child.
And with tired minds, tired bodies and tired souls, they wept.
All night.
For a soul who's fate was not it's.
For there was nothing more they could do.
Except grieve.
*****
Pray for all the souls who lost their lives in this war.
Pray for them to attain peace.
Hope for the undead. Hope the live through it.
This Eid for them will be bloody.
This Eid, they will mourn. They will fear. They will cry.
A man will be lonely.
A woman widowed.
A child orphaned.
Pray for them with all your hearts.
It just takes two minutes.
There is nothing more we could do.
-Sanika.
He could feel her grow limp in his arms.
"Rizwaan" he screamed as he saw a familiar face. Relief flooded him.
Rizwan hurried over to him and helped him carry her to the jeep. He climbed in the backseat with her and held her close, tears falling thickly.
As Rizwan sped through the ruined city he murmered to her.
"Stay awake Aliya. Don't leave me. Just stay awake." He chanted as he rubbed her hands in his, trying to revive her.
His jeans was getting soaked with her blood.
"Get Zakeer" he screamed at Rizwan as he carried Aliya in his arms to a tent.
He laid her down gently, his heart beating franctically.
He could hear the bombings in the distance. He could imagine the men struggling to protect their families. The women wailing for the children.
He could visualise a lone child, crying, unable to understand the sudden noises.
But for once, he could not bring himself to care.
Because he feared for her life.
He choked back a sob as he placed his hand over her wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
"Don't die on me." He cried.
"Please,please. Please. For your ammi-abbu, for your Ayat. For you Allah. Please dont die. For-for me." He placed a kiss on her brow. Tears were falling rapidly now as desperation clawed its way inside his heart.
"Please Aliya, I love you." He let out a strained laugh, his throat constricting around the words, making his voice hoarse.
"I do. I do. You know that. I can-" he choked again.
"I wont live without you." He broke down.
"Zain, step aside." Said a voice.
"No- no! Please."
"Zain, I need to tr-"
"I can't!"
"ZAIN, STEP ASIDE. SHE WILL DIE. I NEED TO TREAT HER ASAP!" the voice snapped.
He came out of his shock and held Zakeer by the collor-"Make sure she is alright. I need her."
Zakeer nodded curtly and told Rizwan "treat his wounds. Don't let him come in."
As Rizwan dabbed medicine on Zain's wounds, he was in a void.
His soul was inside the tent,fighting for her life.
And for the first time in his life, he prayed.
To Him.
For her.
For himself.
He watched the red dusk sky settle and turn into a beautiful purple.
The beauty was lost on him.
He closed his eyes,exhausted.
He could hear the guns going silent.
He could hear women sobbing, their wails peircing the night sky.
He could hear the children crying for food.
They should be covering all this a small part of his mind told him. He looked around to see Rizwan absent.
The rest of the crew will take care of it.
He recollected the time when he got the news that he will cover the bombings in Gaza. He was overjoyed. It was like a field reporters dream come true.
But had immediately frowned when he found out she was his co-reporter.
"She can't come" he quipped furiously to the board.
And when she found out about his rebuke, she had hissed "Why the hell do you care? It's none of your business. My job. My life."
Her eyes were glaring daggers at him.
"You can die!" He exclaimed.
"So can you"
"I can take care of myself."
"Oh, so I can't?"
"You are reckless."
"So are you! Its part of our jobs. Give me a valid reason why I shouldn't go. Then I won't"
She started walking away.
"I love you."
She stopped in her tracks.
"I do." His voice desperate.
"Where was this love" she spat, not turning around, "when you slept with me? It was a month ago. You ran off."
"Aliya, you don-"
"I don't want to understand."
"Aliya,please-"
She walked off. He had tried calling her so many times. She did not pick up.
Neither she came to office. The next he saw her was at the airport two weeks later.
Both did not speak to one another.
He regretted it now.
'War' he thought bitterly, 'is a very ugly thing. People are fighting a war that is not their's. Someone sacrifices their life so that a child could have a future.'
He snorted. "Humanitarian, my foot."
The truce that was called upon the Hamas and the Israelis was.the reason she ventured out on the street looking for a weeping child.
"How can they call anything humanitarian if they don't have a single ounce of humanity left in them?" He wondered.
The night fell and he started feeling restless.
She should not die. He chanted over and over.
"Please Allah. Usse marne mat dena. Usse apne paas mat bulana. I have yet to love her." He cried softly.
He was riddled with anxitey and worry resided permenantly in his heart.
But he did not give up hope yet.
Not yet. He kept saying to himself.
"Zain" Zakeer called. "You can come in."
His heart missed a beat. Breath abate, he walked in the tent, his legs feeling like jelly.
"Aaliya" he screamed softly.
His knees gave way as he met her eyes. He crawled over to her and cupped her face.
"You-yo" he broke "I hate you" he whispered and kissed her brow.
"She needs rest Zain. And I have a bad news."
"What?" They both croaked.
"You lost your baby Aliya."
His hearted skidded to a halt.
His eyes wide, he looked at her.
She looked equally horrified.
"I was pregnant?" She asked, her voice small.
Zakeer nodded. "I am sorry. The baby was only 2 months."
Her hand went to her stomach.
"Oh" she said,her voice small.
Zakeer left,leaving both of them alone.
She met his eyes, hers grieving, his shocked.
"It must have been mine. I was going to be a father." Silent tears trickled down his cheeks.
"Our baby" she whispered.
Her chest started heaving, sobs racked through her body.
"We.. we were.."
"I know" he tried grasping the fact.
A whimper left her lips.
He immediately was at her side.
He hugged her tightly.
"We were going to have a baby Zain." She cried.
He held her head on his lap, his tears falling onto her face.
"Our baby Zain" she cried into his shirt. "I was going to have a-" and she could continue no more.
And he cried with her.
He thought of something consoling to say.
His mind drew up a blank.
After all, it was not okay. It will not be alright.
It was their baby.
An innocent life. A life which was their responsibility.
Until now, if someone would have asked him about family, he would say he was not ready.
Now? He was mourning for the moments he will miss in his life.
Their child's first day at school. Her first word. Her because he now he wanted a girl. Her first accomplishment. Her first step. Him teaching her cycling. Him scaring away her first boyfriend. Him givinng her off in her marriage.
And when he and Aliya would reach their 50's, the first grandchild.
But he could not do any of those above. Because his princess was killed. In a war that was not her fault.
Her death, unknown to many. Her sacrifice in waste.
And he sat their with his love, weeping for his unborn child.
And with tired minds, tired bodies and tired souls, they wept.
All night.
For a soul who's fate was not it's.
For there was nothing more they could do.
Except grieve.
*****
Pray for all the souls who lost their lives in this war.
Pray for them to attain peace.
Hope for the undead. Hope the live through it.
This Eid for them will be bloody.
This Eid, they will mourn. They will fear. They will cry.
A man will be lonely.
A woman widowed.
A child orphaned.
Pray for them with all your hearts.
It just takes two minutes.
There is nothing more we could do.
-Sanika.
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