Chapter 1: Nauwin Fateh, Pehli Khoon Rizi
Punjab ke dil me, ek gaon Jalalpur 382 (Toba Tek Singh ke qareeb) ka naam Iqbal garaj ki tarah goonjta tha. Mubashar Iqbal – ek izzatdar wakeel aur siyasi shehzada – Hashir ka dada, jo 9 dafa election lada aur 7 dafa jeeta. Woh sirf siyasatdan nahi tha, balke UC 26 ka ek afsana tha.
Us waqt Hashir sirf 14 saal ka tha, uska bhai Ayyan 12 ka, behen Mehrosh 7 saal ki, aur sabse chhota Subhan sirf 5 ka. Abhi woh sab itne chhote the ke apne khoon me jalti virasat ko samajh nahi pa rahe the. Lekin Hashir… uske andar kuch jag raha tha – taqdeer.
Saal guzar gaye, Hashir aur bhi khamosh magar tez-dimag hota gaya. Woh Pakistan chhod kar bahar taleem lene gaya – law, business aur psychology parha. Lekin jitna door gaya, utna zyada uske jaday Toba Tek Singh ki mitti me gehri hoti gayin. Taleem ke baad usne wapas gaon ka rukh nahi kiya – balke Islamabad me base banaya aur apni khud ki duniya khadi kar di.
Jald hi Islamabad ke elite Multi Gardens, B-17 me 16-kanal ka ek shandar mahal tayar ho gaya. Hashir ki zindagi badal rahi thi – business, network, private meetings, aur khamosh investments. Ek larka kuch aur ban raha tha. Uske aas paas armed guards, armored gaariyan aur bulletproof security routines thay. Sirf 21 saal ki umar me Jalalpur ka larka sirf beta nahi raha tha – ek naam ban raha tha.
Us saal uske walid ne teesri dafa election lada, magar Hashir siyasat pe focus nahi kar raha tha. Woh inteqam ki planning me tha. Kisi ne khandan se gaddari ki thi. Khoon bahaya gaya tha.
Ek barish bhari raat, ek siyah LC 300 sunsaan gali me ghusi. Ek aadmi ghaib ho gaya. Na police, na gawah. Sirf khamoshi aur khauf.
Hashir Iqbal ke andar ka mafia jaag gaya tha.Aur ek dafa woh darwaza khul gaya – phir kabhi band na hua.
Uska ghussa thanda, lekin hisaab kitaabi tha. Woh sirf qatal nahi karta tha – woh azaab deta tha. Baandhta tha. Marta tha. Zakhamon par namak aur garam pani dalta tha. Kuch log pinjron me band kiye jaate, kuch ko burjhon pe latka diya jata sirf ek bottle paani ke sath. Hashir zalim tha, magar be-dil nahi. Woh wohi karta jo insaaf karne me nakam raha.
25 saal ki umar me Hashir wapas apni jadon ki taraf aaya. Jalalpur 382 phir se tayar tha. Barish ne mitti ko dhoya, aur uska naam ballot par likha gaya. Larka mulk ka sabse chhota MNA ban gaya. Sirf quwwat ki wajah se nahi – balke is liye ke log uske junoon par imaan rakhte the.
Ab Islamabad me poora khandan shift ho gaya tha. Uske protocol ne usse ek zinda deewar bana diya – LC300s, bulletproof Revos, Rolls Royce Ghost, M5s, aur layers me bodyguards. Lekin Hashir rukne wala nahi tha.
Usne apni siyasi party banai: Pakistan Action Party (P.A.P.). Pehla election haar gaya – ek aise shaks ke liye thappad jise hamesha jeet ki aadat ho.
Magar Hashir dusri dafa haarne ke liye paida nahi hua tha.
Uski doosri campaign ne sabko hila diya. Uski strategies tez thi, speeches zyada be-reham, aur dushman… khamosh. Woh jeet gaya. Sirf seat nahi, izzat bhi.
Gaon ka larka ab ek qaumi quwwat ban chuka tha. Suits aur gaariyon ke peechay ab bhi us 14 saal ke bache ka dil dhadakta tha jo apne dada ko UC 26 pe hukoomat karte dekhta tha.
Lekin ab… woh khud hukoomat kar raha tha.