I WAS GOING
to Mirpur in Azad Kashmir, during the summer vacation, last year. I reached
Jhelum at 8 a.m., river, we saw a large boat nearing the bank. A boatman asked
the ladies and their children to get into it, first of all. Then he invited
their relatives; and last of all, those who were left over. I was one of them.
After a while the boatmen dipped their long thick bamboos into the river and
pushed them back. In this way the boat began to move forward. Before long we
were in deep water. The waves rose and fell, and the boat glided over them. The
river was flowing very fast. Every day was filled with fear. Children began to
cry, and ladies began to weep. But the boatmen were not at all upset. They
assured us that there was no danger ahead. They went on applying their long
thick bamoobs as usual. And the boat moved on and on. We thanked God for
sparing us, when we reached the other bank.
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