The Terrorist

picture courtesy: http://americaohyes.com/
Disclaimer: This story is purely my imagination and any resemblance to any individual living or dead is sheer coincidence.
He opened his eyes and was welcomed by the warm rays of the early morning sun pouring into his room through his Venetian blinds. His anxiety grew as he looked at his watch; it was 9:00AM. He was late for work, again. He washed his face and scrambled around his bathroom looking for the mouthwash. After what seemed an eternity he finally found it. He finished his ablutions and finally got ready for work. A copy of the Koran was waiting for him in the hallway. He knelt down to his knees and prayed hard to Allah. It was his first prayer of the day; he had to do it five times each day. He remembered his mother telling him as a child the importance of seeking god’s blessings before he left home.
He had to reach central London. His mother would be waiting for him; she had something important to give him. He went down the subway and waited anxiously for the train. He did not notice the whirring sound of the closed circuit cameras. They were taking pictures of him. The train approached and he was soon traveling at god speed to central London. I will be there by 9:45 he thought. Allah! It’s been so long since I saw mother. She must be looking out for me. 9:45AM: a thunderous blast shook the tube station, shards of glass and debris hit him hard, he was thrown yards away by the impact of explosion, before he breathed his last, he remembered his mothers last words, “mein tumhare liye intezaar karoongi beta” (I will wait for you).
The news paper next day carried his face on the first page and below his picture was the caption “suspected suicide bomber…”

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