“I will, dad,” I replied.“I owe you,” he said.“I know you do,” I replied. “Have a safe flight. I love you.”“Love you too, Jellybean,...�� he said before hanging up.A few minutes later we were sitting in the kitchen. He was sipping on bottled water, and wiping the tears from his eyes. He looked so vulnerable. He looked like he wanted to curl up in a ball on the floor and cry himself to sleep. I hated seeing him this way, so I got up from the chair I was sitting in, walked over to him, bent down and. I had no problem in talking some younger less selfish youth to take my place in martyrdom. I had no fear of shooting my way out of some capitalistic plot to entrap me but throwing my life away to add to the carnage on the street was not my solution to the problem of imperialistic defilement of our holy places. I preferred being the hammer of righteousness rather than the anvil of sacrifice headed for paradise to wallow in the pleasures of my 72 virgins.My controller in Islamabad was well aware. More

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