Testament of Freedom
He who avenges himself
Says farewell to his beautiful wife
Has no longing for power or wealth
It does not worry me a bit if this will and testament of mine reaches the great people
of the glorious Balochistan or not. As I write these words, there are armed guards all
over the place, keeping a watchful eye on every move I make. I have only eight hours
to live. Eight from now I shall be proudly walking to the gallows. I have no feeling of
remorse, nor am I bothered by the thought that I should have lived longer rather than
be dead soon, because to lead a life without any purpose or to live under the yoke of
slavery, is a curse.
I am neither the first nor the only one to give his blood for Balochistan; hundreds of
Baloch have laid down their lives for the fatherland. In my family alone I shall be the
second person to kiss the hangman’s noose. And thus sacrifice my life for the great
goal, which I am certain, the younger generations of Baloch shall ultimately achieve.
The British executed one of my ancestors, Sheran Dad Karim, in 1902.
I would like to tell my friends that such a priceless boon like freedom cannot be won
without the supreme sacrifice. I know of no precedent in history where nations have
achieved freedom without rendering the supreme sacrifice. The path to freedom and
independence is admittedly a difficult one. However, the goal awaiting us is truly
magnificent. I feel happy and consoled to think that though independence may elude
us from a long time to come – my little daughter Bibi Banadi who is now 3 years old
may experience it in her life time – my grandchildren and those of my brother
Beebagr’s will surely be blessed with it and that day will be the day when my soul
will finally rest in peace and receive true comfort.
Can you, by severing the heads from the bodies,
Kill living thoughts and ideas?
Can you, by wrenching the flowers from the branches,
Stop their fragrance from spreading?
I am certain that every member of my family will take my execution with calmness
and fortitude. I wish my mother were alive today, for, she must have sung this lullaby
in my ears when I was a child:
If you die a hero’s death,
I shall visit your grave,
In the best of attire and make up.
Instead of mourning and lamenting
I shall sing you a song of joy.
And shall proudly give birth
To another child exactly like you.
I am sure dearest sisters will not weep and go into mourning over my death. I ask my
grandmother to recall the lullaby she used to sing for all of us:
When my flower-like son becomes a youth
He will arm himself with the best of weapons.
He shall make the traitors bite the dust,
He shall fight and crush his enemies.
The lofty mountains and the vast plains of Balochistan are waiting for those who
could embrace them and turn them into castles and battlegrounds.
Mountains are the fortresses of the Baloch
Impregnable heights are their treasure houses
Flowing springs quench their thirst
Their children are selected arrows
Sharp-edged daggers are their sons-in-law
Baloch fathers are broad-bladed swords.
Hameed Baloch.
10th June 1981
Mach jail
