~By Hasan Shikoh
Wolves. Everywhere, there were packs of snarling wolves…
Askari realised that his breathing was shallow, and his cheeks were wet with tears.
Why? he thought. What’s happened to me?
Then the commotion in the Oculus Rift pulled him back into its realm.
“Husayn is dead. Husayn has been slain!” soldiers were shouting to their comrades across the battlefield, their swords and lances raised high.
Within moments, their cries of victory marked the air.
Then there was commotion on both sides.
Wails from Husayn’s camp rose over news of his killing.
Across the killing field, Umar bin Saad’s horse-mounted troops broke into a gallop towards Husayn’s encampment, kicking up a pall of sand in their wake. In their blind lust for booty, they trampled on the bodies of Husayn’s dead comrades lying bare on the desert floor.
Before Husayn’s women and children could even begin to collect themselves, the enemy had raided their camp.
Swords flashed. Torches blazed. Tents burned.
Zaynab, dizzy but now back on her feet, scrambled to shield the camp’s remaining children. Other women hugged one another from the inroads of the zealous soldiers and their battle steeds.
A beautiful child with curly locks stumbled out of a burning tent. A horseman galloped immediately towards him. A silver blade flashed in the slowly dying afternoon light. Blood spurted against the backdrop of a blur of heatwaves spewing from another gutting tent. The head with the curly locks tumbled forth. The hurtling headless body tripped over the guy line of the tent. A woman in the background, watched, her hands on her cheeks, mouth agape, letting out a blood curdling scream.
One among many others on that dreadful afternoon.
Her legs wilted. Her knees hit the sand.
A man with a blazing torch and a whip darted towards her from behind. He struck her with his whip, and then turned his horse back towards her to pull her black chador from her head. She pleaded, implored, and protested for him not to do so. But to no avail.
He kicked her face. She fell forward from her knees in slow motion, face first onto the sand. Her dying wail got muffled under the drumming of hooves.
All around, the scene of soldiers on foot and horseback burning down tents, slapping children, slicing bodies, snatching booty continued for a while.
‘Wolves. Everywhere, there were packs of snarling wolves attacking Husayn’s women and children in wild abandon,’ the weathered, heartbroken voice in the Oculus Rift said.
A chill ran down Askari’s spine. He could not bear to witness the scenes of the humiliation and pillage any further. He pulled the Oculus Rift off his head.
Who really was this Husayn, son of Ali? he wondered…
Please note – you can hear an audio version of this piece via the following link: https://youtu.be/uUoJkactxKk