It’s like a disease that’s flowing with the blood throughout the body. This disease is the people of this impure land.
Two young engineers went to Machar Colony in Karachi for some work. They were accused of abducting a child. Then people gathered. Mob justice prevailed and both were killed.
With bricks.
With sticks.
This is as much as it takes to get killed.
Mob justice and lynchings have been common here. Two young boys were killed in Sialkot which still evaporates the hope of living in this world. Those two were beaten and then hung upside down on a tree to be tortured easily.
The same was done in a recent incident of blasphemy when a Sri Lankan national was killed because otherwise religion would have died.
The same way, a Christian couple was killed and burnt alive in a brick kiln in Kot Radha Kishan because of an accusation of blasphemy. They were accused of burning the Quran. Those who burnt the couple actually burnt the Quran. No one realized anything.
First, there must be a fear of being taken by a mob. Then, some strange shocks of happenings. Then beatings. Pain. One by one. Inch by inch. Every part of the body. Sticks and stones. Flames. The smell of the body being torn apart. Like a BBQ being prepared in a jungle of wolves.
Maybe they all wished for early death. Maybe they all prayed for death at first strike. Maybe they cursed their lives. Their existence. Or maybe they cursed the mob while begging them to be forgiven.
But curses don’t change fate. Curses don’t make the heavens fall.
This is it. This is life. And this death. The two can meet anywhere, anyday, among a mob, that wants dead bodies to make a point. Like in the Machar Colony yesterday. The point can be anything. Anything absurd.
May the two not rest in peace. They can’t. Rest in pieces. May the curse fall. May this whole universe get fucked once and for all.
