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Rated: E · Chapter · Family · #2241535
Story on Experience of a girl who is writing a book about her father, who is now dead.
Hi, This is my first post. I have been searching for some sites to get my content reviewed whether it engages the one who is reading it. Many of them have written this is the best platform for that. I am not sure if I am at the right place or not but I have written something and want to show it to others so that I get an idea of "How is the story". Its a story of a girl who is writing a book about her father, who is now dead. It's her experience which she is trying to capture in her story. I am posting Chapter 1 of it. It's a longest chapter on the story I guess.. Please review (or advise if I am at the wrong place). Here it goes...............

"Chapter 1: From Afghanistan to India
I dont remember which month it was.. what season it was and what day it was.. Sitting in a small room in a narrow colony in a slum, in a circle with my mother and father, having the carrot gravy with the famous naans which father would bring from his afghan dhaba, my mom asked my father, How many names does allah has? He answered, they are 99 and she sighed and praised to god and they started the conversation about my father's journey from Afghanistan to Pakistan and then to India.. As he started saying, i was sitting on my mom's lap and hearing him silently and with concentration.....

"I had a family, a big one", He said. "Along with my mother, father, two sisters and brothers.. We were happily living in a big house.". He continued... "My father wanted me to study, but i was a road side romeo, never listened to him and kept on skipping school. He then got me admission in a Madarsa (A religious school) but i couldnt study there too.. I grew up along with others and started handling family business.. We had godowns of fruits.. We used to sell them. We used to earn a lot of money.." And then what happened? Mom asked, "And then the war came.." He continued, "We had a war with Soviet in Afghanistan, They killed most of the people there.. This war lasted over 9 years.. from 1979 to 1989.. I was out of home for work.. when i returned i saw a big whole like a big dig in the place of my house. like somebody has made a well out there.. i became numb.. I could feel nothing but the dirt flying across my eyebrows and sounds of choppers from the sky and people screems around me.. everybody was gone.. i had nothing with me that moment.. everything was gone.. my mother, father, brothers & sisters.. i just left them a couple of hours back.. and now this is some other place.. "You have to run" someone shouted from a distance.. i could see him and hear what he was saying.. it was an attack from the choppers above me and they blasted my house.. I saw the bullets coming to the ground from the choppers and i realized that i was standing right in the middle of the war.. which has just began in my area.. I ran along with some people.. They caught some people who were running and took them with them.. we managed to run but after some distance.. i was caught too.. some of my friends managed to run but i couldnt.. They took me to a remote location and it was all dark...." He stopped and tried to hide his eyes.. I could see tears dropping from my mom's eyes and my father's eyes too.. He stopped eating.. and continued.. "I woke up.. i dint know where i am and since when i was here.. one of their guys poured water on my face with a bucket in his hands.. i saw two more guys coming in.. They made me stand, tied my hands with the cieling and took all of my clothes off.. They started beating me with a rod in their hands untill my bones broke down.. I was shouting, screaming in pain.. and it pained a lot.. i was praying to god to give me death or to take me out from here.. I was praying for my people.. i was remembering my mother's lap and my father's eyes.. and my sister's hands and my brother's high five.. they went off.. and i was alone there again in the dark.. When I opened my eyes next time, I could feel the sand beneath me and the blue sky above me.. my head was very heavy, slowly I woke up and saw some of my own people were sitting and resting.. I was told that I was recued from the Russians but I never knew how.. We took some rest there and started moving ahead.. blood was flowing from my nose.. restless.. but I kept on walking and walking and walking…
Father took a sip of water from the steel glass and kept it back at its place. My mother asked..” what happened after that..?” He took a deep breath and started again.. “As I walking through the mountains and forests, I managed to eat some bitter or sweet fruits and leaves from the trees.. From a far end I could see some huge black smoke in the sky as if someone has fired his/her own house. I started realizing, as I was walking towards it, there were so many small houses which were burnt, it was somewhat a similar scene which I saw at my village.. I could understand that the enemies have attacked here too.. I turned back to leave that place immediately and I could hear some sound very near to me.. the sound was of a baby cry.. I saw a baby laying near a big stone which was hiding it from the whole scene.. I went near to it and pick it up in my hands.. the baby stopped crying.. I wanted to hold it more but I had to go back as I was afraid that I’ll be caught again and this time there is no chance that I can survive.. I kept the baby down and started walking.. The baby started crying as soon as I put it down.. and cried more and more.. I couldn’t see and couldn’t take the risk of someone hearing the baby cry and come there and catch me. I took the baby.. tied it at my back and started walking back at the same way.. I kept on walking and walking and walking. I don’t even remember how many days I kept on walking, stopping, fighting for the life, fighting for the food, fighting to feed the baby.. I just don’t remember..”.
The tears again started falling from my father’s eyes and I could see my mom consoling him. She said lets go sleep, you don’t need to tell more as you are getting very much emotional. Father said I want to tell it today.. and he started saying it again..
“I remember there was a time when I had to jump into the river to cross it and the baby still on my back.. I was afraid that the baby could die due to the water, if I do this but I had to take that chance as it was the only option left with me to go ahead. I was headed to a railway station where I can find the train to Pakistan and to reach there I had to cross that river. I almost sank and crossed the river.. I knew swimming as I and my friends and brothers would do this in the rivers near our village.. the baby stopped crying when I reached the shore and I got afraid.. I untied the baby and saw it wasn’t moving or crying or doing nothing.. I was so afraid of losing it as it’s the only one left with me.. who was my own now.. I pushed the little chest but nothing could happen.. I couldn’t save it.. I couldn’t save it.. it died because of me.. I kept on saying and screaming and crying.. I was helpless.. I kept on pushing that small chest to take out the water and suddenly I could hear a frozen cry.. I cant explain what I felt at that moment.. it was sort of a movie scene happening to me but it was all real.. and I was more happy than anyone else on the planet. I started my journey again and kept on walking and finally reached the station. I dint have money to buy ticket so I just climbed up in a train to Islamabad.. I sat in the toilet, sometimes on the gates of that local train.. sometimes seeing out and remembering my family.. my ammyjaan.. and all of them.. missing them.. Then I reached Islamabad, lived at railway station many days, searched for food here and there and started searching for a job.. I got a job in a bakery shop and soon I started my own bakery..”. My Father tried to finish the story fast as it was late for us to sleep.
He continued.. “then I came to india and met your brother” He said pointing to my mom.. Mom still listening to him very carefully..
Chapter 2: The job..................
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