There are some memories that never fade with time. They remain buried deep inside the heart, not because we want to remember them, but because they represent a painful chapter of our lives and the history of our society. The period of militancy in Punjab was one such dark era when fear had become a part of everyday life. Nobody knew what the next morning would bring. People lived with uncertainty, wondering whether they would survive to see another day.
Those were times when relationships, trust, and humanity were tested in the most difficult circumstances. The atmosphere of suspicion and fear affected every section of society. Families were separated, friendships were broken, and countless lives were lost. Punjab, known for its courage, hospitality, and brotherhood, witnessed a period when violence overshadowed its traditional values.This is the story of one such personal experience that has remained with me for decades.During those troubled years, a family came into contact with me. Gradually, our relationship grew stronger. What started as a simple acquaintance developed into a bond where both families began sharing each other’s happiness and difficulties. We stood together during celebrations and hardships, and over time, they became almost like an extended part of my own family.
Because of this close relationship and trust, I provided a large amount of financial assistance to that family during their difficult period. It was not merely a financial transaction; it was an act based on personal trust, friendship, and human values. I believed that helping someone in need was a responsibility, especially during an era when everyone was struggling to survive.However, when the time came for the money to be returned, the situation changed. Despite repeated requests, the amount was not repaid. Slowly, the pain of disappointment replaced the warmth of the earlier relationship. A bond built over years began to weaken because of financial differences.
Eventually, when all efforts failed, I had to take some strict steps to recover the money. But the result remained the same nothing was returned. The issue created bitterness between the two families, and the closeness that once existed gradually disappeared.Life, however, had a much bigger and more painful chapter waiting.As time passed, all three sons of that family joined the militant movement. Their names began to be associated with fear and violence in the area. Stories about their activities spread everywhere. For my family and me, this created a constant sense of insecurity. There was always a fear in our minds would we become their target because of the old financial dispute and the damaged relationship?
Those were frightening days. In an atmosphere where violence had become common, even old disagreements could create serious dangers. Families lived under continuous pressure, not knowing who would become a victim next.But destiny had written a different ending.Despite all our fears, those young men never caused any harm to my family or me. No loss of life or property ever came from their side. Whatever anger or differences existed between the families, they did not turn into personal revenge.Eventually, all three brothers were killed in police encounters. Later, other members of their family also met the same fate. A family that once shared personal relationships and memories with us was completely destroyed during that violent period.After their deaths, I came to know that a tribute program was organized in their memory under the banner of Damdami Taksal. When I heard about this event, a question remained constantly in my mind.
How should society look at such situations?
Should we call it sacrifice, because some people consider those who died during the militancy period as martyrs? Or should we see it as a tragedy, where young lives were consumed by violence, leaving behind broken families and painful memories?Can a society forget the suffering of innocent victims while remembering those who chose the path of violence? Can we ignore the pain of families who lost loved ones because of militancy? At the same time, can we ignore the circumstances, grievances, and emotions that pushed some young people toward extremism?These are difficult questions without simple answers.History is not only about heroes and villains; it is also about human experiences, mistakes, circumstances, and consequences. The Punjab militancy period affected thousands of families some lost sons, some lost parents, some lost their homes, and some lost their faith in relationships.
My purpose in sharing this story is not to accuse or defend anyone. It is simply a reflection of what many ordinary people experienced during those difficult years. Behind every headline, every encounter, and every political debate, there were real families, real emotions, and real suffering.The biggest lesson from that era is that violence destroys everyone. It destroys those who pick up weapons, those who become victims, and even those who survive with painful memories.Decades later, the question still remains in my heart: What should we call such a phenomenon — morality, sacrifice, tragedy, or something else? I leave that decision to the conscience of society and to the judgment of history.Because sometimes memories are not written to provide answers. They are written so that future generations understand the cost of hatred, violence, and the loss of humanity