Maniza Naqvi: Under the sealed sky: Drones

Those fearing and fleeing the missiles and bombs know that the sky belongs to drones—and the earth to the mafias which spread in their wake. There is no way to escape. The turf battle is a moot point. And now there is a danger that the US is going to start drone attacks over Swat—because “militants” who fled the bombs in Afghanistan and entered Waziristan are now fleeing Waziristan and gong into Swat—and elsewhere in Pakistan. Gul Khan Baba suddenly appears. His face craggy, his beard white, his eyes a cataract blue. He lifts his hand, in Salaam, I notice his skin cracked from heat and hard labor like that of his feet. I see him as someone who has fled from Waziristan, his family killed by a drone attack. I wonder whether he has morphed too after all these years when we last met. His eyes moist his voice despairing, he asks me: “What have they turned us into? Why do they call us names? Terrorists, extremists, suicide bombers? I am terrified. And how do we know who the suicide bombers are---how do we know that it isn’t the drones? Our fate is sealed. Where should we flee to-where—into the sea? The sky is closed for us—the land has been taken from us—where should we go? Are we just to perish under this sealed sky?”