PoV of common people-3

(London, UK)

Parvez Musharraf was a young seven year old kid.

"Mamma, when will we go home?"

"Shh! This home now!"

"I am hungry!"

"...I don't have any bread left... Don't worry. Papa will bring food soon."

Pervez was a spoiled kid born into the family of a rich muslim landlord household in Delhi.

When Pakistan was created, he and his family moved to Karachi after some days via plane with jewelleries and cash from selling the land.

But the Indian government blocked all of Pakistan's money, so the Pakistani government was after rich people like them for 'donation'.

Thankfully, his father was smart enough to bribe a military man he had connections with, and he helped him to go to UK without getting caught. Though the military man only wanted jewelleries as bribe, not the cash. There was no other choice, and there was enough cash.

Though when they arrived in London, the authorities refused to exchange rupees into pounds. Parvez's mother had to give up the jewellery she was wearing to be able to afford a small apartment.

His father didn't have any skill, but just knew how to add and subtract money, and knew Urdu and speaking broken English.

UK already had translators, so he wasn't able to get a job.

He somehow got to work in a cotton factory, but that went bankrupt as the cotton prices shot up dramatically, more than three times in the span of a month.

That's why, many factories, including the one in which Parvez's father worked in, went bankrupt and were shut down.

In the end, they had to rent out the one room apartment, and go on streets to get some money for food.

But, the refugees who called themselves Pakistani suddenly shot up in numbers, and the street on which they were living became a refugee camp.

And among the hungry refugees, they couldn't easily eat all their food. It was always stolen, or had to be distributed amongst all. Because otherwise, they will be beaten up. His father was beaten up once.

That's why, they moved back to the apartment, and were having trouble to get food again.

Parvez left the house to roam around the streets. He was getting the stink eye from people so white that they looked sick. Even their blood vessels were visible.

He decided to go and take a look around the refugee camp where he had made some friends, and saw a woman distributing bread.

So, he also got into the line to get some for himself and his family.

"Who is that rich lady?"

Parvez asked a man standing in front of him.

"Queen of Britain."

"Britain?"

"It's the country we live in."

"Eh? I thought it was Pakistan?"

"We once had a Pakistan. But we were kicked out, telling us to create a Pakistan here, not on Indian land."

"Oh..."

"Don't worry kid, we will make Pakistan here inshallah. Allah is kind. He must have sent us here to spread his message."

"But wouldn't the people here not like us creating a country here?"

"It doesn't matter. They have stolen all our money. We absolutely deserve some of their land. Look at how they treat us."

"But the queen is giving us bread?"

"Why doesn't she give us some job instead? Even as labourers in farms? The most we jobs we are getting is of toilet cleaners. And it's better to die than do the job of lower caste."

"Eww!"

Parvez made a face at the thought of cleaning toilet.

When his turn came, he only got one bread.

"Can you give me more?"

They didn't understand him, and the policeman shoved him away from the line.

Sighing, he went home, only to hear shouting from his father.

"Talaak! Talaak! Talaak!

(Divorce! Divorce! Divorce!)"

And his mother was kicked out of the house. And it looked like his father was going somewhere.

"Where are you going Papa!? Why did you shoved mother out of house!?"

His father didn't look at him one bit, and went away with a huge suitcase which had all the money in Indian currency. A white woman in nice clothes came out of his house, and kneeled to his height. Surprisingly, she knew Urdu.

"Kiddo. Sorry about that. Your father is going to France where he can exchange the money. But to do that, he will need Visa. My family is quite poor since my father and brothers died in the war, and I did not find a job here too. So he is marrying me to go to France where he can exchange the money. No hard feelings. We all want to survive."

Telling him all this, she also left. And now, his apartment was locked. It has been sold.

Both mother and son cried a lot, and ended up into the refuger camps, where Parvez Musharraf was recruited by a gang for stealing food. And the gang was run under the former chief of 'Gazwa-e-Hind Liberation Force' that surrendered, a 'freedom fighter'.