Aadil Abdullah
Karnah: On Thursday night, everything was ready for Bisma Nazir’s wedding. The walls of her modest home in Hajinar village were decorated with fresh fabric and fairy lights. Gifts were stacked neatly in a corner, neighbors had helped prepare food, and her bridal dress hung inside, waiting for the big day.
But that night, a mortar shell landed on her house.
“We were all inside when the shell hit,” Bisma said softly, standing outside what remained of her home. “In one moment, it was all over—my dress, the food, the decorations... everything is under the rubble.”
Bisma was supposed to get married on May 10. Now, instead of her wedding, she’s watching people dig through debris, trying to salvage what they can.
Her father, Nazir Ahmad Mir, had spent years doing daily labor—cutting wood, carrying sand, doing any work he could find—to save for her marriage. “I had nothing fancy, just enough to give her a decent start. I can’t believe all of it is gone,” he said, staring blankly at the broken roof and scattered bricks. “One shell ended it all.”
Local residents say several houses were damaged in the shelling that came from across the border late Thursday evening, but the Mir family was among the worst hit.
“Everyone in the village knew about Bisma’s wedding,” said Abdul Majeed, a neighbor. “We were all going to be part of it. But instead of celebration, there’s silence today.”
In the early hours of the morning, neighbors came to help. Women picked up broken utensils and salvaged clothes. A few men helped clear parts of the collapsed wall.
“Bisma had dreamed of this day since she was a child,” said Shakeela, a relative. “Now she’s sitting on a charpoy outside a broken house, crying. It’s not fair.”
Nazir, who provides for the entire family, says he doesn’t know how to begin again. “We are poor. But we had dreams. What else does a man have?”
Local officials visited the area in the afternoon, but no immediate assistance has come through. Residents are calling for urgent relief.
“We’re not asking for much,” said Sarpanch Ghulam Nabi. “These are innocent villagers. This should never happen to them.”
As dusk fell over Hajinar, the village remained quiet. There were no wedding songs, no drums, no laughter—only the low murmur of people comforting a family whose celebration had turned into loss.
