We did not raise a gun.
We merely lifted
A single word
Justice.
Nisar Banbhan
Hailing from Village Mir Muhammad Banbhan, Taluka Mirwah, District Khapurpur and based in Karachi, the capital of Sindh, Nisar Banbhan is a seasoned professional with nearly 25 years of multifaceted experience, encompassing 3 years in journalism and over two decades of service in a public sector organization. His extensive expertise spans content creation, scriptwriting, screenwriting, lyrics, poetry, and storytelling across multiple languages, including Sindhi, Urdu, and English. Nisar has honed his skills in writing articles, columns, and short stories, contributing to various national and regional media outlets. Additionally, he brings a deep understanding of program development, educational advocacy, and strategic planning, having led initiatives that promote quality education and foster community empowerment. His passion for literature and education merges seamlessly, enabling him to craft impactful narratives that resonate with diverse audiences while driving meaningful change in society.
We Did Not Raise a Gun
We did not raise a gun.
We merely lifted
a single word
Justice.
And every rifle
in the city
trembled
at the weight
of that one word.
They kept believing
that fear
is the most faithful soldier
of a state.
Yet fear
never outlives
the morning dew.
When the sun
finds its way
into the eyes of the people,
empires
begin to shiver
before the shadows
they have cast themselves.
I have seen it
every dictatorship
mistook
the echo of its marching boots
for the heartbeat of history.
But history,
every single time,
placed its ear
upon the chest
of a hungry soul.
And there
it heard
the pulse
of revolution.
Hunger…
is not always
the emptiness of a stomach.
There is a hunger
for justice.
A hunger
for dignity.
A hunger
for that freedom
where a pen
may finish
the sentence
it has begun.
And then,
someone
walks away from bread,
so the world may understand
that sometimes
hunger itself
becomes
another name
for resistance.
And a silent body
can speak
louder
than a thousand slogans.
Nonviolence
is not the act
of laying down weapons.
It is the courage
to imprison
the vengeance
within oneself.
It is the grace
to keep the door of hatred
closed,
even with wounded hands.
It is the quiet miracle
of preserving
the last candle
of love
inside
a burning heart.
For violence
is the language
of the oppressor,
while love
remains
humanity’s
last mother tongue.
A state…
when it begins
to hear
only the voice
of guns,
the law
becomes an orphan.
The constitution
turns into
a forgotten scripture,
buried beneath dust
inside
an abandoned cabinet.
And justice
wanders
along the margins
of history,
searching
for its own name.
Yet the strongest wall
any nation can ever build
is never
an arsenal of gunpowder
it is
the trust
of its people.
We never pledged
our loyalty
to any ruler.
We placed our hands
only
upon the pages
of the Constitution.
We asked
for nothing more
than this
Let the law
belong equally
to everyone.
That single sentence
became
the most dangerous slogan
any tyrant
had ever heard.
They imprison
conscience.
They place guards
over words.
They lock voices
inside dark cells.
But they forget
walls
cannot imprison sound.
They only carry
its echo
farther.
I have seen
honest women and men
sitting
inside prison cells,
yet standing taller
than entire halls of power.
For thrones
need guards.
Conscience
never does.
Remember this
when a state
refuses
to hear
its own people,
the streets
begin to speak.
Crossroads
become courtrooms.
And silence
starts
delivering verdicts.
This earth
has never belonged
to swords.
She remembers instead
the farmer’s plough,
the worker’s hands,
the teacher’s pen,
a mother’s prayer,
and those
who dared
to tell the truth
far longer
than she remembers
the conquerors.
Those who say
that guns
protect a nation
forget one simple truth:
A gun
may defend
a border.
It can never
create
a homeland.
A homeland
is built
with justice,
with law,
with equality,
with the trust
of its people,
and with a love
where disagreement
is never mistaken
for betrayal.
We do not ask
only
for the freedom
of political prisoners.
We wipe
the dust
from the Constitution
by speaking
their names.
We say
never place
handcuffs
upon a conscience.
For when conscience
begins to walk,
history
walks
beside it.
And listen…
If you lock
every truthful mouth,
the wind
will speak
through trees,
through rivers,
through rain,
through the laughter
of children.
And one day,
you will discover
that revolution
was never resting
upon the shoulder
of a gun.
It was growing
silently
inside the eyes
of an ordinary human being.
And when those eyes
finally rise,
no empire
will recognize
the ruins
of its own walls.
___________________
