When you live on borderline of two countries you are neither independent nor occupied. You belong neither of the countries. I live in the same circumstances. I reside 5km away from Line of control. When both countries have some issues or a discussion they are under equipped security. They meet each other and decide the destiny of countries. Sometimes agree and sometimes disagree on an issue. News spread around the globe.
When armies of both sides exchange bullets by cross firing then the people who die are a woman who was sweeping her roof, a man grazing animal, a child playing cricket, a girl on the way to her school, an old man laying on her bed, an old lady with a cup of tea in her hands, a watchman of an office, a driver, a shop keeper, a teacher and a soldier. Were they terrorists? The buildings which were wiped out were a school, a health care center, an old mud house and a shop. I always wonder what the purpose of this destruction is.
Politicians and the rulers of both countries are never affected by shelling. Their children are still getting education in the best schools, colleges and universities. They are enjoying the best possible health services. They are economically the wealthiest persons of the country. They have safe and sound accommodations. They are enjoying their life at its peak. But what about the education of a child who is even deprived of school? The economic status of people near border is at stake. Health facilities are rare and there is no security at all. If it’s a war then why only poor suffer. Then there is trade across the border but again the opportunists are stakeholders.
Living on the borderline with such circumstances edifies you about peace and war. When the people even don’t know either their loved ones are dead or alive. When they just dream about the education, when an Aero plane means a danger of war, when they sleep with death and they are called brave. They don’t know that this war isn’t for us but we are victims. Stakeholders only enjoy melodious music during a peace oriented meeting but the horrifying bullets noise is confined to us.
By: Aisha Mushtaq