No closure for the mourners

Spraying students with bullets, burning teachers alive is probably the most traumatising incident in our history

The air felt heavy as I drove to work that portentous Tuesday. When I reached office, I saw all my colleagues glued to the television. My heart sank. It didn’t take long for me to gather what had just happened. The first thought that crossed my mind was whether my maternal family residing in Peshawar was safe.

The next couple of days passed while the entire nation watched in horror as stories from the tragic incident unravelled on national television one by one.

Since my parents hail from Peshawar, and having spent all my summer vacations there, I have a profound sense of belonging to the city, its culture and people. Therefore, I was deeply wounded.

Pakistan has been a victim of terrorism for over a decade now. But barging into a school, spraying innocent students with bullets and burning teachers alive is probably the most traumatising incident in our history.

As a journalist and a patriotic citizen, I’ve been taking part in almost all the candlelight vigils and protests taking place in Islamabad to condemn this horrific happening. The pain, however, hasn’t eased at all.

I burst into tears every time I read a story about the tragedy, look at an innocent victim’s face on social media or watch a grieving parent on television. I think of Dawood Ibrahim, the only student who survived in his class because he had a faulty alarm clock and couldn’t wake up in time for school. He woke up that morning only to find out that all his classmates were dead.

I think about the courageous Mubeen Shah whose cover photo on his Facebook profile says “We are a nation of beauty and great grief. Our smile is much stronger than your gun.” It almost feels like he knew what would happen to him that day.

I think about the brilliant Umer Hayat and what all he could have achieved in life only if he were alive today. I think about Tahira Qazi, the fearless school principal who went back to the school after being rescued only to help save her students’ lives.

I think about everyone who rushed to save their younger siblings and friends, the boys and teachers who led others to safe areas and students who played dead. I think about Saima Tariq, a passionate teacher who joined Army Public School a month ago, only to play her role in educating Pakistan’s youth. I think about the school’s guard whose body wasn’t found.

And then I think about their families. How can a human being act in such a barbaric way? Why were innocent children slaughtered in the middle of an exam without any fault of their own? Why were teachers burnt alive? There’s no condolence. There’s no closure.

Published in The Express Tribune, December 28^th, 2014.