Amritsar Massacre: Salute To Martyrs

A city of memories, histories (some created and some yet to be). Pure as name ‘Amritsar’. Legends were born unknown and are immortals in the stack. History recalls their sacrifices. The fields stretched beyond the vision, a beautiful texture from green to blue to many

in the atmosphere. A picture perfect collage city. People attire in helpful, the personality that inspires and energise, the turban reminds of those forwarded jokes.

A queue of destination to be visited among which was ‘the bagh’. We rode a short distance in a running disco with those typical Punjabi songs, which couldn't be understood then and can’t be stopped sharing now. But the dance and songs were not the attention seeker for the outsiders rather the painting on the bus. We switched from modern to vintage wheels even in that developing surrounding. The wheels turned to a short walk on the street stretched till the temple but our halt was ‘the bagh’.

Until now it was ‘we’ but as I came near the gate of the bagh it was just me and only me. The mood switched in a different zone, the steps, the word froze. This was what happens to me only on those two patriotic days when the flag slide at the top and dance in the air. The excitement of entering the bagh was similar to those thousands of Baishakhi pilgrims (of those men, women and children's) entered ninety-seven years ago. The vision which I had was of those texts from history books, from those motion pictures and rest my imagination played its role.

The narrow entry opened in wide space, stretched far in acres. The trees, plants, the grass were nourished from the shedded blood of those innocent. The fired bullet made the cemented path to walk all over the bagh. The Amar Jothi holds the fire which still burns somewhere deep within us. Parallel to it was the point from where the unnamed bullets were fired. The more I moved ahead the deeper my thoughts went and wider my imagination grew. The clear vision of men and women running for their and their loved one's life, children's cry who were unknown of what was happening around. With those firing bullets, the walls of bagh increased in heights, the bagh stretched in length. The depth of the well was revealed by those jumps.

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