He Is Dead Now

Waziristan, a little piece of land in Pakistan, is where he was born. The land where he stepped into his childhood. The land where he used to run around with a kite in his hand. His kite always flew higher than the other kites. The land where he wished to become a pilot someday and fly high in the sky just like his kite. Unlike the other depressed faces around him, he always had a smile on his face because deep down he knew, he wasn't born to live like this. He believed that his dream of becoming a pilot will come true someday and he'll be out of this dark land where every sunrise doesn't always eliminate the darkness. Where every moon doesn't always comes with a peaceful night. Where all the birds stay hidden in their nests, nobody dares to fly. Where every smile suppresses tears. Every laughter hides a cry. That's the land of Waziristan, where every morning when you say good bye to your loved ones, it might be your last good bye.

Amir was only a four years old Waziristan boy, who lived in a small town but had big dreams in his eyes. He lost his father a year ago in a drone attack. It did break him a little but he had to rise and build himself up because that's what winners do. He still smiles despite of all the hopelessness around him. He was born hell bound but he knows he'll find a heaven someday.

It was a fine morning of June when his mother woke him up for school. He got up and had breakfast. His mother fed the goats and packed his bag for him. Just like the other days, he was smiling and as he said good bye to his mother, a tear rolled down her cheeks. It always happens when they say good bye but still he smiles. As he started walking through the streets of his town, he passed a smile to everyone he saw. People call him crazy because he is always happy. Passing by a street, he saw a kite lying on the ground and picked it up. The kite kept flying behind him as he started running to his school. His deep love for education was admirable. He never missed school and was one of those kids who wished they had school even on Sundays. As he was running through the fields, he looked up at the sky. It was an airplane, he thought to himself. He started jumping and waving to the plane that was reminding him of his dream of becoming a pilot. His eyes wide open, lost into the sights of that heaven he dreams about. Why was he thinking about heaven? He couldn't understand and moved on but an intense sound erected his ears and he looked behind at those streets he was just playing in, all on fire. It was the airplane that bombed them. His innocent mind couldn't understand a thing and he started running as fast as he could. What else could he do? He kept running and running and the fields behind him kept burning. It was approaching him really fast, that dreamy airplane. He cried out loud, probably for the first time in his life as his life started flashing in front of his eyes. Dreams and hopes were a bunch of lies. In reality he was born with a short life. His smile faded somewhere in his cries. His kite was already on fire. His books were falling out of his bag as he was running through the fields that were about to die. He was running out of road or running out of time, when he realized that the good bye to his mother this morning was a last good bye. He closed his dark eyes and forever got lost into that heaven he used to see in his dreams. He was just a little kid in Waziristan, who didn't wanna die but the drone couldn't hear his cries. His mother still got a tear in her eyes and she is hoping that her son will come home alive. That little boy who was running to save his life but couldn't find a place to hide. Didn't even leave any footprints behind, he is just a figure. One of those many who have died in drone attacks. And it won't stop and dreams will keep dying, nobody will ever raise their voice. Mothers will keep crying, kids will keep dying and nobody will care because they are thought not as innocent as the other kids in the world because they were born in Waziristan.

But according to the powers that be, who try to justify the drone bombs, we all should be satisfied and go home and sleep tight because that four year old terrorist is dead now. He was born to terrorize and was on his way to kill us all but they killed him. He is dead now. He should have known that he was living in a land where nobody dares to dream because dreams just don't come true. But he believed in his dreams so he is dead now. We can all celebrate now, we are safe now because he is dead. With all his dreams and hopes, he is dead. And we are safe now.