"And when all wars are done a butterfly will still be beautiful

And when all buildings are razed the sky will still be blue

And when all smiles are killed the wind will still blow

And when everybody is dead, my words......."

Dear Diary,

I fall short of words again. You know what's funny; this seems to have become a regular feature ... and i call myself a poet. I do nothing but propagate cliches' with banal rhetorics. I am tired.

Today Athiya finally reached Lahore. I am so relieved. She is such a delicate soul. Why would anybody want to harm her. She has nothing to do with the madness that is brewing around around her. She is so far away from these base figments of the so called "real" life.

'Her eyes are actually small, but big enough

Big enough to see yourself in them

Her eyes ask you questions

Questions to which you have no answers

Answers which stir your inner playful self

Your inner playful self which........'

Damm!!! I cant do it no matter how hard I try. I guess free verse is not my cup of tea. That reminds me; today while i was escorting Athiya to the railway station; she asked me a very poignant question.

"Abhay, are you sure that Lahore will be safe for me?" she asked.

"Yes, that's where all your relatives are. There are so many people to take care of you there." I said.

"But they will call me a Kafir there. I am not a Kafir. I believe in the message of Allah with my whole heart!" she said quite vehemently.

"Yes, you do dear, but dont bother about what people say. Nowdays nobody knows what he/she is saying. There is chaos all around. You just need to hold on. Believe in yourself. The madness around you will try to pin you down at evry juncture of life. You just need to hang in there." said I.

Athiya gazed at the sky for a few seconds and then asked "Abhay where does this madness begin and where does it end?"

I had no answer to this question of her's. Where did the madness begin? I dont know ... maybe when a few people decided to come up witha two nation theory or maybe when it was concluded that Hinduism and Islam are actually two nations and not the manifestations of the same god. I guess this madness began when a few people decided that dividng two nations, dividing the hearts of people and dividing the sentiments of millions is as easy as constructing backyard fences. Where did this madness begin? Athiya herself dosen't know how silly and yet how profound her question is.

And yes, where does it end? I have no answers for that too. Ten years ago when I had joined the movement, I was a starry eyed 19 year old who believed that freedom was a birth right. I had a dream ... a dream where I had my flag, my anthem, my people and my nation. I had a dream ... a dream where my country would finally have its rightful place on tyhe world map. I had a dream of witnessing a sunset which would herald a new beginning in the history of my nation. I had a dream where the tri colour would be fluttering high up and we would finally be able to say "I am proud to be an Indian". Yes, yes I know that all my dreams have been fulfilled. We are now free from colonial tyranny and racial oppression. We are a nation now. But.....

"The blood, the carnage, the deaths, the tears

Is this the dream I had seen

The orphans, the widows, the homeless, the diseased

Is this the dream I had seen

The cries of mothers, the wails of children

Is this the dream I had seen

The hatred, the malice, the animosity, the chaos

Is this the dream I had seen"

Dreams die. Yes that is what i have learnt. Now I see my dream gradually decaying into a mass of meaningless illusions. Dreams change nothing ... poetry changes nothing. I change nothing. The wars will continue, the madness will never cease, chaos will always reign supreme and Athiya's question will always remain unanswered.

Athiya ... she is the last gleaming hope of my life. Thankfully she is in Lahore now and she is safe. Why i got attached to a 7 year old who had lost all her family ... I would never know. One night "strange men came and killed everybody" she loved. She escaped alive because she was hiding in the closet. She says i gave her a new lease of life ... I say she gave me hope. Hope to fight again, hope to believe again. Her innocence has become the fuel of my life. Today when I saw her off, she was waving her little hands from the windows the Lahore Jallandhar Express. She has made my will stronger. You know what ... I was wrong.

Dreams don't die. They just re invent themselves time and time again. freedom was the dream that we had seen. Now a prosperous India is the vision capturing our vision. This insanity will change nothing, because...

"When a buliding is razed, it's time to clear the rubble

When a door is closed, it's time to find a open one

When a smile is wiped, it's time to find new mirth

When a leaf is plucked, it's time to grow a new plant

When a dream is shattered, it's time to sleep again

When a war is done, the butterfly still enchants"

Athiya will always remain beautiful. Athiya Khan and her likes are the butterflies whose beauty surpasses and outlives all wars and all trgedies. We will come out of this nightmare as an empowered nation. A nation of thinkers, believers, lovers, philosophers, scientists .... a nation of people ... free intellectually empowered people. That's my dream

Athiya's face is the harbinger of my dream.

Yes I am relieved Athiya is safe. And I guess I can write poems after all.

Abhay Mathur

15/10/1947

(On the 16th of October, 1947 a story appeared in "The Lahore Times" which said that the Lahore Jallandhar Express was attacked by rioting hooligans. They killed all the passngers and burt the train.)