I, a Spy?

By Bushra Hassan.

Being born as a free bird in Lahore, I had no boundaries. I always flew in different angles like a superman, dived in sky like a batman and swung between the buildings like a Spiderman, well obviously without those strings. There were no boundaries for me but my mother had always warned me of humans that how they capture us in large cages.

She told me that humans do take care of us and provide food but their little children tease us by our own voice and told me to always stay away from them. Being a mama’s boy I always stayed away from humans but as I grew up my curiosity increased. I also met other pigeons and they showed me how stupid humans are. A friend, only to prove his stance, gave me a demo. He sat on a roof and as soon as a child approached him, he flew away.

I always thought that humans were our enemy but listening to a discussion of youngsters over a cup of tea under the tree I live, I came to know that Pakistan and India do not have friendly ties with each other and posses a lot of rifts on state level. Also, both the countries have engaged into military standoffs for a couple of times. This proved that humans were enemy of humans too.

My curiosity began. I started finding people who discussed politics and used to tell the stories to my fellow pigeons. I came to know that whenever Indians have come face to face with Pakistan, India has always shown its immature side upon which whole world has literally mocked over them. I, along with other pigeons also laughed.

One day, my friend discussed with my fellow pigeons to go at LoC (Line of Control) and do the same old trick. My friends bet that I was too scared to go after knowing the realities of LoC and that Pakistan and India, despite being neighbouring countries, have complex ties with each other.

Well why would have I said NO to it?  “I am a pigeon and I am free to go anywhere. Fly anywhere and besides I don’t need a passport or visa to fly. I am not human and I do not hold grudge against Indians. Indians would also see me as a cute bird and will shoo me away. I only have a trick to play and we will come back.”  Reasoning my heart and being confident we made the plan. As soon as I crossed the border, my life changed. Seeing many Indian soldiers, I got confused and forgot that I have to fly away. They captured me and took to their research laboratory.

Indians did not even spare me, a flying pigeon, coming from Pakistan to India and announced that Indian Army has arrested a “Pakistani Spy”. Yes I’m talking about myself, a pigeon, a Pakistani spy.  I never knew that Indian environment was so strong that it would make me a spy within seconds. If I knew that before I would have stayed in air and returned home to my mother as a Pakistani agent. I wonder how proud she would have been to see me become an agent.

After my arrest, it was not easy for me to breath in India. The soldiers tied me up with metallic ropes, prevented me from moving my wings and moved me to an investigative cell. There, a medical team arrived and started checking my body. After my x-ray, Indians checked if there is a nuclear war-head within my small and innocent bones or not.

I kept trying to convince them that I was flying and came here to only win a bet. They didn’t listen to me, and took my blood samples for further tests. In the meanwhile I saw on their TV where Breaking News was flashing that a Pakistan Spy Pigeon has carried some virus from Pakistan to affect Indian Armed Forces. I looked around to see if I could get some help from that pigeon and soon I realized they were talking about me.

I was badly crying and shouting that I’m innocent and I did nothing, but suddenly one of Indian soldiers slapped me and I broke my beak. I was missing my other pigeon friends badly and cursing myself that I wished I would have listened to my mother who always told me to stay away from humans. Indian Armed Forces took me to another laboratory where they shaved me and started observing my skin. I was amazed that how much they are scared of just a bird.

My beak was broken, my wings were badly hurt and I had nothing to eat as well as Indians didn’t even give me water to drink. They constantly tortured me and forced me to tell them about my mission and plans. I could not tell them what they wanted to hear as I had no such intentions, but then I received another punch that showed me stars in bright day light.

When they couldn’t find anything in me and came to know that International Media was making fun of them, they realized that they should release me. After coming to know about Indians’ failure and world mocking over them, I couldn’t even control my own laugh and started laughing with the broken beak.

As I laughed, another Indian smashed me hard and my right wing got injured. That time I realized that Indian Armed Forces won’t let me go alive. Then I realized that finally I have done something for my country. Inspite of the fact that I was capable of nothing but only to fly, but yet I was satisfied that Indians fear even a bird that crosses the border. I knew that these could be my last moments. Injuries, pain, sufferings and memories of my family and friends were all running in my mind when I saw sword in one of Indian security personnel.

A couple of moments later, I realized that I’m free from all of the sufferings. I was about to fly home desperately when I saw Indians laughing and cheering up for achieving their massive and huge target of executing a Pakistani Spy. I turned around and saw myself in two pieces. My body was on the table and my head was lying far away.

Yes, it was me that died by the hands of Indians. I cried for some time but then I realized that I have won it for my country, because Indian media and people were celebrating like they have probably won a Nuclear War against Pakistan.

I considered it enough for myself that somehow I became a reason for my nation and people to remember me in their memories and good books, that there was some Pakistani pigeon who became the reason for Pakistan and rest of the world to laugh at India and to mock it’s scared army for its so called successful operation against a Pakistani Pigeon.

Now I believe that I have lived the purpose of my life. I believe that inspite of being just a bird, I have done something for my country. Yet I’m missing my fellows and have tears in my eyes, but I’m flying to the other world leaving behind all sweet memories of my beloved family and friends, with entire internal satisfaction.

bushra

The writer is a Research Analyst and holds a strong command over Entertainment Industry.

She can be reached at:
bushra.hassan12@yahoo.com

2 thoughts on “I, a Spy?

  • November 4, 2016 at 4:36 pm
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    Very interesting

    Reply
  • November 23, 2016 at 6:22 am
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    An interesting read! and good use of humor!

    Reply

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