A loud bang startled me, and my mind went to the war zone. This is what it sounds like when a bomb is dropped and countless living beings, mostly civilians are turned into a mess of minced meet and charred body parts. The smell of gunpowder which follows makes the air heavy, the images of the war zone,  the stench of the blood, the cries of children in pain, injured, dieing, crying in disbelieve that the colorful world they believed in could be so horrifying are added in by my wild imagination.

The chain of thoughts is interrupted by a series of small blasts, mimicking the shots fired from an assault rifle. Bullets, leaving the red hot muzzle of a gun piercing through the bodies of children, women and men working in their fields, sleeping or bracing each other, in the confined on their straw bound home, praying for peace and begging for shelter from the stray bullets. But the bullets know no God, No Allah, they have no fear, they are ridden by fire from the hell, under the spell of the devil himself. What could they know of mercy. And they Pearce right through the tender flesh of mare mortals, sending their innocent souls haven wards leaving their lifeless body in a pools of cold, red, slippery blood and their loved ones witness to this end of all humanity, surround by the scene of sheer horror, to morn behind and greave the loss till their last breath.

The sound of weapons, bombs and bullets paints the picture of an insane, inhuman bloodshed, the rape of humanity, insult of innocence. Like yesterday night, tonight again Karachi will ring with these horrid sounds. With such an auspicious night of Shab-e-Barat, where do they see the connection?