Nothing is more excruciating than observing a felony free human being behind those ignored steel bars, demanding free will from every person walking by. With every step that passes on from his reformatory windowpane shielded by sordid bars, the crime free human being drops his head back in despondency to surrender before deadly disease of insanity like a forlorn prey before a persecutor in the concentration cell pleases a tormenter who takes pleasure in breaking a man into bits never to rise again. And exploitation behind those impervious great walls of free will regrettably never reaches to destiny and the sufferer continues to suffer like a long-drawn-out disease, turning a human being into a ‘Subject’ to be studied and scrutinized for research without knowing the needs of so called ‘Subject’ under the supervision of super hands, machine thinking and motorized programming to cope up the requirements of experts. A man is only a machine, devoid of feelings and fellow- feeling when he is caged to serve none but to break his own shackle of disease.
A recent visit to asylum along with my students was not at all a thrilling experience or something to be appreciated, rather pathetic, stiff to be overlooked and agonizing to force any bubbling heart to weep in seclusions. Sajad, a young man in early twenties imprisoned our notice when he hopefully waved his hand like a lonely sailor amid lethal waves of endless sea for the last hope of finding a helpful hand from nowhere to restrain gigantic whirlpool from engulfing an infinitesimal human being. He begged, his cries reached to the farthest ends of endurance which cemented our steps as his words would stop mighty winds to listen to his tale of woes. We were only human beings with senses and emotions worth nothing for none of us mustered courage to take his say. He was fluent, his eloquence was exceptionally brilliant, and his words that too in a foreign language was like a charming song amid tornados, pleading everyone at the window to bring someone from his home to get him back from the hell of ignorance. We could only act like unconscious actors to equate the needs of narrator, for we were there only to record the plight of human race caged in the fatal mental illness. From his warden, a pitiable tale of inattention made most of us to moan. One could have never imagined that a young boy like Sajad who was admitted in the asylum some four years back had never been visited by his parents not to talk of his relatives from the time of admission. He was left to be ruined there like a roofless hut well exposed to the wrath of sun and shower.
Total parental negligence was at fore behind that window. One wonders how mechanical the man has turned to be, how weak and callous he is, how has he reduced his capabilities to fight, how disoriented and disjointed he is, how far he has been from his God, how ordinary he has been while dealing with hardships, how hopeless and faithless he has been. To leave a mentally challenged son at the asylum unattended at the mercy of others is the height of unawareness of divine shelter that God provides.
Sajad stirred all except his parents who had been disagreeing with authorities carrying him home for last four years to be treated with love, care and affection. ‘We have no option but to keep him here’ the kind warden informed. And we only sighed and slowly slipped from his attention like a carefree wind after plucking a darling bud from fragile branch to be dusted down. And kept crying: Don’t disregard me; I am not like others in the ward, I know the way to my village, just pay my bus fare only, want to see my sister and grandfather.’
From the remotest corner Ah! A gush
Coupled with mystic smile rested on face
Mine, and towered this cozy wish beyond ‘Blue’
Like a murmur from heaven, pure, afresh
Decked in daisy’s delight darling lace
Leaving for ages, but an untraced clue.
Mushtaq B.Barq is a Columnist, Poet and Fiction Writer. He is the author of “Feeble prisoner, “ Wings of Love” and many translation works are credited to the author like “ Verses Of Wahab Khar” and “ Songs Of Sochkral”
