Place : Jail in Mumbai
Time: 11 PM
Another long day comes to an end.Did nothing..Today i came to know, during prayer time everyone kept two minutes silence to remember all those who lost lives in Mumbai attacks, which tell me it has been one year for me here now. And what surprises me is that I am still alive.
Looking back at that dreadful day..We all came on the boats fully prepared for that journey to be our last one and with calculated last few breaths. We 12 were united for one mission of destruction.
Remember my childhood times, when i used to go out and pay 50 paise to play contra in game parlour and two players used to just shoot, shoot and shoot everyone they saw , before a bullet shot them. We were told to play similar game in real life during training and the only difference was that we did not get three chances to play it, if shot once.That was one tough camp. We were not in touch with the world .Just 12 of us. We were given such hard training.if I had taken similar training in military, I would have come out as a captain and be posted in Kashmir to fight for my country. Proud moment it would have been.. Getting Kashmir and staying with all brothers in peace. Anyways..It was tough training, we shot almost 100 shots everyday to attain perfection in our targets and 1200 shots in one day will irritate anyone but we were not allowed to go against...I don't know where the camp location was,and who were the other guys,what did they do and if anyone ever been to school like me.I dnt think any body did. During day we used to train,and before going to sleep, our commandor used to sit with us, discuss his plans, and motivate us. We were also given some power capsules and other medications. Now I know, with power capsules, we used to get drugs as well because we were completely out of senses and focussed on what commondar used to tell and couldn't decide if it was right or wrong. Whatever he used to say was recorded in brain without any counter questions. And now when I look back..i don't at all feel good about it.
Now 365 days of my life is travelling to its last destination and this journey is not going to complete anytime soon.
I remember getting caught at railway station, and I was wondering if they will shoot me. No, it wasn't to happen, they took me to the police station and till three days operation went on, they didn't even touch me. I came to know later that I was the only one left alive. I could count my last few hours remembering parents and allah. I was brought into this completely dark cell where I was kept under very high security. They knew , given a chance I won't lose any opportunity to end myself and they were right. I had plans for this but never got chance to do so. Days went and I was given food to eat and clothes to wear, they didn't let me interact with anyone. I'm laughing at myself, crying , talking to myself and hating myself for the deed i've done . After almost a month into this dark cell, I was told , that they will take me to the court . I don't remember from where I was taken to which court but it was good to see light after so long. First light into eyes made me blind for a second. All I could demand was for a lawyer for myself. No body was ready to take my case. but I wanted someone to fight for me.I was from pakistan and there was the denial of the same from the govt. which I could guess easily from the course of events. Why would any country take responsibility of someone who killed so many people and was the key killer in that shoot out.. But my parents are still in Pakistan living.i haven't received any whereabout of them, eversince.
Enough writing today. i feel sorry for myself.
All i have to do is to attend courts and count my breaths. i know this indian judiciary, they will never come out with any solution. max they will come out is hang until death but i have been told in training, all i need to do is to make an appeal to president and live until i die natural death.so until i have nature calling me back, i should attain temporary death.Tomorrow is another day.
P.S - This is just a self-imagination of what kasab would have to say.