Life in Dera Ismail Khan always moves in its own rhythm. The main bazaar stays busy from morning till night and people from different backgrounds pass through it every day. In the middle of this bazar stands the Choggala, a kind of small fortress where police officers sit on the top and watch the safety of the roads. From this point four roads stretch out towards North South East and West. The western side has many small houses of three marlas, four marlas and five marlas. These streets are narrow but full of life. The people living there belong to different faiths. Muslims form the majority but Hindus and Christians also live there with love and respect. They share the same bazaar, the same tandoor and the same chai hotels. But among them two families often stayed unhappy with each other. One was a Saraiki speaking Muslim family of Hammad Alam. The other was the Hindu family of Rakesh Kumar.
Their rift was very old. No one remembered the exact start of it but both families believed that something wrong had happened many years ago. Some also said the issue started due to a small religious disagreement which later became bigger. Still the entire area lived peacefully. Only these two households sometimes argued even when the reason was small. People of the area talked among themselves that both families would one day understand each other because the bazar was a place where diversity was part of daily life. But that day had not yet come.
One morning something unexpected happened. The sanitary pipe outside their houses got blocked. Dirty water started to spread on the street and people gathered to see what was happening. Hammad Alam who was twenty four came out first. Rakesh Kumar who was thirty reached there right after him. Both looked inside the pipe and instead of finding a solution they began pointing fingers at each other. Hammad said it was Rakesh house waste that blocked the pipe. Rakesh replied that it was Hammad kitchen waste that caused the problem. Their voices became loud and sharp. Hammad raised his hand in anger and Rakesh stepped forward to retaliate. The people around them got worried because both of them looked ready to fight.
Suddenly an elderly man named Rehmat Khan arrived. His beard was white and his presence alone made everyone quiet. He stepped between them and held their arms. He said in a calm tone that humans should not fight over such small matters. He reminded them that both of their religions teach patience and forgiveness. He added that it was not really about the pipe. Their old anger was still in their hearts and only love could clean it. His words touched some people but not enough to fully cool the situation. Still the crowd gathered around him and he managed to stop the fight. After some discussion both men returned to their homes. The street became silent again but the tension remained.
The next day brought an even more troubling moment. Both Hammad and Rakesh went to the police station. They wanted to file complaints against each other. They stood at two separate counters while explaining their own versions of the pipe issue. The officers listened with tired expressions because such disputes were common. Before any report could be completed something terrible occurred. A sudden loud blast shook the entire building. Dust smoke and powder filled the room. The windows shattered and the furniture broke into pieces. People fell on the ground. Policemen shouted and tried to pull others out of the damaged area. Some officers died on the spot and many were badly injured.
Hammad and Rakesh were hit by flying debris. Both collapsed and could not move. But the rescue team of 1122 reached very quickly. They lifted them on stretchers with great care and placed them in ambulances. Sirens echoed through the bazar as the vehicles sped towards the hospital. They were first taken to the civil hospital also known as DHQ hospital Dera Ismail Khan for immediate first aid. Doctors rushed around them. Nurses cleaned their wounds and gave pain relief. After stabilizing them they shifted both men to the main DHQ ward.
Inside the medical ward something surprising happened. Their beds were placed right next to each other. Rakesh looked at Hammad with tired eyes. Hammad also noticed him but both kept silent. Their bodies were weak but their minds were still full of old hurt. Rakesh had some quiet thoughts in his heart about Muslims and Hammad had some strong ideas about Hindus. The past was holding them tightly.
But the kindness in the ward slowly started melting the ice. The nurses who were mostly Muslim treated Rakesh with gentleness. They spoke to him in polite Urdu and Saraiki. They checked his pulse again and again. They asked him with respect if he needed pani or chai. A Muslim doctor then came near his bed, wrote his medication and placed a small bucket of fresh flowers near him. Rakesh felt something soft rise in his eyes. He tried to hide his tears because he had always heard that a man should not cry in front of others.
Another doctor who was also Muslim later brought a small cake for him. She said that he should not feel alone and the staff would take care of him. This touched his heart even more because he knew he was a minority in the city yet he was receiving so much warmth. While he was trying to hold his tears Hammad observed everything from his bed. He did not show any emotion but something inside him also began to break.
Night came and the ward became quiet. Rakesh slept with his face turned to the other side. A small girl entered the ward with her father who was visiting another patient. She walked towards Rakesh's bed with a small chocolate. She thought he was sad so she placed the chocolate near him. Rakesh woke up, saw the little girl and wiped her tears because she looked worried. He held her head with care and kissed her forehead. The girl smiled and ran back to her father.
This simple scene deeply shook Hammad. He could not stop himself. Tears poured down his face and he cried loudly like a child. The nurses rushed to him thinking he was in pain but it was not physical pain. It was the breaking of all the walls inside his heart. He stood up with difficulty, walked to Rakesh's bed and hugged him tightly. Rakesh held him too. Both cried without shame. Hammad asked him to forgive every mistake of the past. Rakesh replied that he forgave him from his heart.
Their families who had come to meet them also became emotional. Mothers, sisters, brothers and uncles wiped their eyes again and again. Many other patients in the ward started crying as well. The nurses gave them small gifts and smiled. An old man at the corner who could not speak properly clapped slowly with great effort. His joy spread across the room. Soon the whole ward was clapping for them. When the doctors returned they also smiled happily. It was a moment that touched everyone because it showed that humanity is stronger than any wall built by religion, tribe language or colour.
In that hospital ward both men changed forever. They learned that people from every background share the same heart. Differences exist but kindness is the real language that brings humans together. That day the bazar, the Choggala, the streets and the entire town of Dera Ismail Khan quietly carried a new message. The message was clear that peace can grow even in the smallest marla of land when humans choose love over anger.
Bio:
I am Abdul Basit, a writer with a Bachelor's degree in English Literature and Linguistics. I am currently a researcher at the National Research University Higher School of Economics, Moscow Campus. I have also published several short stories previously.