The sun has set. Darkness has descended upon the mountains of Yadar. Musa is standing on the veranda. Saeed and Husain are beside him. Zakia has fallen asleep in the room. The doctor came and said she is now completely healthy.
Saeed was silent for a while. Then gathering courage he said, "Musa, the story you began yesterday… the events of that night. Will you tell it today?"
Musa kept looking out the window. In his eyes that calm fire. Then slowly he said, "Yes. Today I will tell it. About that night. The night that took everything from me."
Husain also stepped forward. "We want to hear it too, Commander. If you will say."
Musa nodded and sat down. Taking a deep breath, he began—
Ikrak, Bahai'da Village
1985, Spring – That Night
That day we were very happy.
Mother had cooked biryani. Father brought sweets from the market. Big brother Karim had promised to teach fishing tomorrow. Layla talked all day about the baby donkey "Chanpa Bahadur."
After dinner we all sat in the courtyard. Stars had appeared in the sky. The moon had risen. Grandmother Fatema was singing. Her voice was so sweet it felt as if an angel was singing.
Musa laughed and said, "Grandma, sing again."
Grandmother smiled. "Not tonight, child. Tonight sleep. Tomorrow morning you will wake early and go fishing with your father."
Big sister Amina said, "Musa, your pajama is torn. I will sew it tomorrow."
Musa said, "Do you sew well?"
Amina glared playfully. "Quiet. Otherwise sleep with the torn clothes."
Everyone laughed. Layla, with sleepy eyes, had rested her head on Musa's lap. Musa stroked her head gently.
Father said, "Come, everyone go to sleep. Tomorrow we must wake early. Karim, you will take Musa to fish. We leave at five in the morning."
Karim said, "Alright, Father."
We all went to our rooms. Musa and Layla slept in the same room. Layla whispered, "Brother, will we go see the baby donkey again tomorrow?"
Musa said, "Yes. We will catch fish in the morning, then return and go at noon."
Layla smiled. "I will take dates for Chanpa Bahadur."
Musa said, "Will you eat the dates or give them to it?"
Layla said, "I will give them. I don't eat many dates."
Musa laughed. "You eat everything."
Layla stuck out her tongue at him and fell asleep.
Musa kept looking at the moon. Very peaceful night. Very beautiful night. He felt, let life pass like this. With this family. In this village. In this peace.
Then he fell asleep.
Suddenly!
With a terrible sound the whole village shook.
Musa jumped up and sat. What is happening? Through the window flashes of light are visible. The ground is shaking. The air is becoming hot.
Then another sound. Another. Another.
Bombs.
As if someone is raining fire from the sky.
Musa screamed, "Layla! Layla! Wake up!"
Layla woke and began to cry. Musa grabbed her and ran toward the door. But before opening it, a bomb fell into their room.
Light. Only light. And intense heat.
Musa lost consciousness.
How long later he regained consciousness, there is no count. All around only smoke. Fire burning. Bodies lying.
Musa tried to stand. His legs trembling. Smoke entering his eyes. He began to run. Where is everyone? Where is Mother? Where is Father?
Coming into the courtyard he saw—the scene was horrifying. Their house is gone. Everything destroyed. Bodies lying. Blood on the ground.
Musa screamed, "Mother! Father! Layla! Where are you?"
No one answered.
He ran and saw—Father Hadi lying there. His body torn apart. Eyes open. He is dead.
Beside him Mother Zaynab. In her lap little Fatema. She too is dead.
Musa moved forward. Grandmother Fatema collapsed on the ground. In her hand still the tasbih.
Big brother Karim, sister Amina, Bilkis—all lying. The ground floating in blood.
Finally little Layla. She lay a little distance away. Musa ran and lifted her in his arms. Layla's body growing cold. Her eyes closed. No smile on her face.
Musa began to cry and scream. "Layla! Wake up! Wake up! I will take you to see the baby donkey. You will take dates. Wake up!"
But Layla did not wake. She will never wake again.
Musa sat the whole night. Layla in his lap. Tears flowing from his eyes. But no more crying coming. Everything inside him dried up.
The next morning some surviving villagers gathered the bodies in one place. Musa worked with them. He dragged Father, Mother, Grandmother, brothers and sisters.
A large pit was dug in the ground and everyone was laid side by side. Then an elderly Imam Sahib of the village led the Janazah prayer. Musa stood in the row and joined the prayer with the Imam. Seven lives—Father, Mother, Grandmother, big brother Karim, sisters Amina, Bilkis, Fatema, and little Layla—for all, a final farewell.
Clouds in the sky. A tone of sorrow in the air. After the prayer everyone said takbir. Musa wiped his eyes and whispered, "Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un. We belong to Allah and to Him we shall return."
Then soil was placed. One by one their faces were covered under the earth.
Musa remained sitting there. For a long time. The villagers moved him away from there. One uncle said, "Child, it is not right to stay here anymore. Let us take you to the city. Your aunt lives there."
That uncle was their neighbor Yunus. He had an old truck. They set off toward Zarina city in that truck. Musa sat in the back of the truck. A whole day's journey. Dust flying. Musa saying nothing. Just looking at the sky.
After some days he reached a city. The city's name Zarina. It was a big city of Ikrak. Some parts of the city destroyed, some parts still fine. Bombs fell here too, but not like the village completely. Houses exist, shops exist, people moving. But signs of destruction clear.
Musa got down from the truck. Uncle Yunus said, "Child, I will find your aunt's house. You stand here."
Musa stood by the roadside. He is looking around. People running. Some crying, some searching for something. An old woman sitting on the footpath, tears in her eyes.
Musa went near and said, "Aunt, why are you crying?"
The old woman said, "Child, my son died. In the bombing. He would be your age."
Musa could say nothing.
An old man came and stood beside him. Said, "Boy, do you know what happened? United attacked our country. They said we are terrorists. But the truth is—our country has oil, gas, gold, diamonds. They wanted everything. So they staged false drama and attacked. Hundreds of thousands of people died. Your family too?"
Musa lowered his head. His eyes dry. No more tears.
He understood—his Father, Mother, Grandmother, brother, sisters, little Layla—none remain. All finished. Everything ended in one night. And behind this destruction is United Ameron. The one who wants to own the world. Who wants oil, resources, and for that does not hesitate to kill people.
Musa sat down upon the rubble. His eyes empty. Saying nothing. Just sitting.
The old man sat beside him. Said, "Son, what will you do now?"
Musa remained silent for a long time. Then slowly said, "I do not know."
He was still small then. Only seven years old. He does not know Dark Psycho, does not know the fire of revenge. He only knows—his Mother is gone, Father is gone, Layla is gone. He is alone.
The sun is setting. Evening descending upon Zarina city. Musa standing alone. Around him destruction, and inside him only emptiness.