But now my heart will beat for Sajna
My dear Hakim,
I somehow feel that you can read these words. Even though your tangible existence is no more sweetheart, I hope you know that you will live in my heart and the hearts of many others who blindly follow me, till we die – or till the Taliban take over the country, whatever happens first.
The Americans droned a part of me that day honey, the part that beat solely for you. They had already droned the Waliur Rehman part in May. Now my heart is a disproportionately hollow, muscular organ that is not pumping sufficient apology for my thick-bearded sweeties. If this isn’t a civilian casualty, I don’t know what is.
But now my heart will beat for my Sajna. Ah, that just sounds so right.
Only last week we’d met to discuss how the drone justification for your bombings had become a tad redundant. Especially, after almost every report highlighted the huge difference between innocent people killed in drones and those killed by you. The one about 67 civilian casualties in five years of drone strikes nearly gave me a heart attack. You seemed almost as upset.
But I was always there for you when you were upset. Facilitating your manoeuvres and providing all the emotional and political support you needed. Using the anti-US propaganda to divert attention away from your beastliness was my biggest strategic masterstroke since 1992. I will continue to fuel hatred for America to promote unconditioned love for your people, my dear. For, it is always amusing to feel the romanticism when I called you guys “our people”, when most wouldn’t even consider you as people.
And now I will rekindle the romanticism with my Sajna. Ah, that just sounds so right.
Needless to say, I miss you honey. I miss seeing the joy on your face every time you bombed hundreds off the face of this planet. I miss seeing the satisfaction in your hallucinations as you connected with the deity. I miss seeing the evil smirk on your face every time we talked about negotiating with the Pakistani government (lolz). I miss your pat on my back, and the warmth of your hand in mine, every time I presented a case for negotiations.
And how I miss seeing you strip, taking your jacket off, to show its nails, ball bearings, screws, bolts, and of course the alluring detonator. That was the most breathtakingly seductive experience of my life – and you know, I have had my fair share.
And now I’ll witness the seduction of my Sajna. Ah, that just sounds so right.
This is not to say that being with you, or fighting for your cause, had been a cakewalk. I still don’t understand why you would publically say that the Peshawar church blast was justified according to Sharia. Why would you keep on bombing my province, when I was the one who was closest to you? I thought we’d clarified that when the jailbreak was being planned? Why would you make things difficult for me, when I have always been the most faithful one?
But you always enjoyed giving me a challenge, and I always took it in my stride. It was just one of our things, wasn’t it? You give me a tough task, I deliver impeccably, only to return to you with all my complaints and whining. But where do I whine, now that you’re gone?
Maybe now I will cry on the shoulders of my Sajna. Ah, that just sounds so right.
But baby I’m as angry as I’m upset. And trust me I will make those Americans pay for it. I will block the NATO supply. Hell, I would block their oxygen supply if I could. And I will shoot down the drones now. Yes, I will shoot down the drones. I will do anything to protect your chums.
For starters we’re portraying you as a martyr. We’re calling the killing of a mass murderer a hindrance to peace (lolz). It wasn’t particularly tough, considering how easily everyone was convinced about constitution-defying terrorists being stakeholders in government; and how no one saw your actions as a breach of sovereignty or acts of imperialism. I will never get tired of using your own crimes as a part of your defence, my love.
And now I will protect my Sajna. Ah, that just sounds so right.
RIP Hakim, my love. I know you’re having the time of your life with those voluptuous ladies up there, but don’t forget me too soon. You might be dead, but your memories and your jihad are still here in my heart.
And ours was a unique jihad – a jihad against humanity and common sense; a struggle for destruction and deceit. You bombed, I lied; you killed, I cried; you destroyed, and I protected; you laughed, while I protested. In our struggle we were inseparable, and together we were unbeatable. The time spent with you, was the most emotionally charging experience of my life.
And now I’ll revive all those emotions with my Sajna. Ah, that just sounds so right.
Yours forever and ever,
You know who
Kunwar Khuldune Shahid is a financial journalist and a cultural critic. Email: khulduneshahid@gmail.com, Twitter: @khuldune.