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THE STORY OF THREE HOURS

It was the month of december ,I was sitting in my room;and was busy with my usual things .
Knowing through the news of social media the carnage of seven civilians ,I was afflicted with a heart trouble and great care .
It was the encounter between militants and armed forces in Pulwama ,in which seven civilians  died in protests mostly due to bullet injuries in the upper body.
All this was drafted in broken sentences ,but was  enough to unveil the signification.
As soon as It was growing nearer ,I was sad to see the people so outrageous ,hearing such dreadful noises through the internet videos ,I knew not what kinds ,that the people was ready to die with fear .
I say still,for in two or three hours I saw vast great ferocious atmosphere .I knew not what to do  ,or for the pleasure of cooling myself as the people made such hideous howlings and yellings ,that I never indeed heard the like .
People were dreadfully frightened ,and indeed so was I too,but I was more frightened when I heard the hues of these people come frightening  towards me;I couldn't see the encounter but I might see the faces of those innocents through the internet videos who were in between the age of 20-30 ,whose eyes were undimmed and their strength unabated.They were cheerful,hearty souls,It was no more trouble for them to laugh but they were under fire ,now,when the day was continued passing.That is to say ,they were being chaffed without mercy and tolerance,their desires,dreams infringed due to the one day violence .
I could see through the open window the tops of tress that were all aquiver with the new sad ambiance.Unsavory breath was in the air.The mood of the atmosphere altered in wee minutes.
But it is impossible to describe the noises,and hideous cries and yellings that were raised,as well in the doleful atmosphere and how to brook the innocent killings in the day was another question too;for to have fallen into the hands of desperation had been as bad as to have fallen into the hands of the armed forces.
I sat with my head thrown back upon the cushion ,motionless and my pulses beat fast ,and the coursing blood agitated every inch of my body.
Suddendly ,someone opened the door of my room due to which I got some consciousness .It was my mother who entered,carrying my brother's bag composed of some of his needy books.She had been far from the scene of the  violence ,and didn't even know round it.
Meanwhilst ,I asked myself why they would go ?why I should not go,
"Well ,my soul"said I "we will both go and If the armed men come ,we will kill them ,they shall kill neither of us ".So It was like a jolly apprehension that I made .
I did care to go out of sight ,fearing the coming of fear and sufferings but I seeing the death of those innocents and by-and-by I saw people running towards one another .
Initially ,I knew not but I found afterwards that I need to take such pains for innocent killings ,for the little infants that are killed in the womb of their mothers;So I got filled with the desire of freedom .
I knew not where to look for those innocents martyred in this unrest and disorder.But my hope is  that If I stand along this till I come to that part where the martyrs taken ,I shall find the actual purpose  of life that will relieve and take me in.
©Adnan
commented by
nice composition, firstly the topic you choose, second the scenario and finally executing it in such a manner. This is nice
commented by
very well penned...

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