*
Welcome to McDonald’s, she says
And as you lean forward into the device
To place your order
‘May I please have . . .
A double . . .
With . . .
. . . . . on the side?
I wonder
If I could make an order of my own
*
May I please have
A double action device to stop time
With Pause and Play on features
And the possibility of pressing Edit, Undo
And, of course, Delete, on the side
That I could use to press Pause
Right before all those terrible acts of violence
Sucked the life and dignity out of an innocent child
Forever
*
And perhaps I could save the 7-year old Zainab
By pressing Pause
Right before the moment
She was spotted by that monster
Who would feast upon her
Like a double . . .
With . . .
So much more
. . . . .on the side
*
And as the gory images
Of unimaginable offences
Committed against innocent children
In the past three years in Kasur alone
Flash before my eyes
I shiver in the warmth of my heated car
And for some reason
I cannot breathe
Nor bring myself to press Pause, Edit or Undo
*
Instead
I turn to my phone
Switch to social media
Making sure I quickly scroll up all those gory reminders
Of the stained bedsheets
And the bloody garbage dumps
For I cannot take
For more than a few moments
The living nightmares the children of my city are forced to reckon with
*
And as you drive thru to the counter
To “Collect” our order
My heart sinks
With the thought and possibility of actually collecting my device here
And I panic for an instant
For I do not have the courage to complete the Herculean task
Of taking away all those bodies of dead abused children
One after the other
From Time’s bloody arms
*
What if I actually could
How many would they be?
I would need to rewind each tragedy . . .
And press pause
And delete each act of violence before it was committed
One after the other
And then . . .
I would need to make sure it didn’t happen again
How would I stop it each time . . .?
*
‘Would you like a chip, Amma?’
My own 7-year old, Xainab asks,
Offering me a French fry from her very Happy meal
And I shake my head
Hold her close
And thank god
She is safe with me
And that I do not have to take any responsibility
For what I cannot even handle imagining
In the warmth of my car.
*
(Khan, 2021, p.65-68)