“I know death comes. I’ve seen too much death, young death”.

Benazir Bhutto is no less than an idol of worship to me – the name engraved on my compassion and psyche from my evolution and the very rationale of my continuation. Nevertheless, it is by no means an idyllic claim. Penning her name is agonizing, for her life and her struggle necessitate as much gallantry to be penned down. This name moves every essence, and the tale of my murdered legendary spiritual mother is too protracted enough to sop up every second of my existence, every drop of ink and each single tabloid, but I’d die leaving it unfinished. The flood of her reminiscences reaches its zenith on this very day, the unruly December 27, which left this nation orphan and bleak… After five years, the twinge has not departed, the abrasions wreaked by her assassination have grown even deeper and it’s dubious to even reckon that they can be cured – The soreness of losing her does amplify with every instant, reminding one of the valiant warrior princess, who laid down her life for the people of Pakistan – for you, me and our children, and for their future.

Benazir Bhutto is no longer the name of the bravest woman of this millennium – it is the name of an ideology now, it is the definition to democracy, struggle and sacrifice now. She’s a bequest and the legacy continues. An insight for all, Shaheed Mohtarmah Benazir Bhutto continues to dwell in every psyche. Erasing her name is implausible; she has become perpetual in the annals of the precedent, her name being quoted on the apex of the golden books. I still crave for another June 21, 1953, but that’s restricted to a mere trance. Benazir exists as Benazir, with no analogous and this is the same case for the centuries to come.

This day, I can’t stop to screech out from the very bed of my sensitivity that Bibi, you’re my vigour and more vitally, my destination – my life. Courage like Benazir is a fable to subsist. Magnetism like her is a myth to possess, words like her are a legend to articulate and struggle like her is an allegory to portray. Her incredible astuteness and unyielding commitment and passion – astonishing! The words fall too short and I move on to search all the vocabularies, but one for Benazir ceases to be real – she is far beyond imagination. She’s too great to comprehend and her immense ardour to lead this nation to prosperity is too vast for any narrative. Nevertheless, she was the leader of the people, and gave her life serving them.

Rolling back the folios of the past, I covet to bring those instants back. Crowds which fervently waited to welcome her miss her this day – The slogans of JEYAY BHUTTO entail to be followed by ZINDA HAI BIBI now. “Meray Khoon ka suraj chamkay ga tau bacha bacha bolay ga, may baghi hoon, may baghi hoon”… – it’s the same instant now. This day takes me four years back – the view burns me to ashes and leaves me paralysed – the red sky, loaded with the colours of the Pakistan Peoples Party was the prophecy of anotherKarbala. “Yai baazi khoon ki baazi hay, yai baazi tum hi haro gay, har gar say Bhutto niklay ga, tum kitnay Bhutto maro gay”… echoed in every heart…. and after a few moments, my eyes caught sight of blood – a life taken too viciously. She was Saria’s world, which had ceased to exist after that moment.

December 27 – I implore you, to please be just to this blood. The world is callous, but Lord, nothing can match your justice. I beg you Lord to please never let this blood go waste. This blood carries the cries of millions of Pakistanis, who still struggle for their lives and their rights. Benazir Bhutto, as I knew of her was more than an icon of heroism and egalitarianism. She was the verve of trillions….

This blood is too sacred for me. Bibi – It’s your daughter’s promise to materialise your vision and die fighting for your cause, and following you in the form of President Asif Ali Zardari, Bakhtawar, Aseefa and Bilawal. It is Saria’s pledge that she would never let your anticipations down, InshahAllah.

With sheer love and respect,

JEAY BHUTTO

SADA JEAY BHUTTO.

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