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seemed to take up the refrain. “Time is up. After today, this ambience, thisperiod, this epoch, all will come to an end. Bid your farewell to these things.I don’t remember how the rest of the journey was passed. Mir Afzaldropped me at my place and drove off. He lived only a short distance away.When I entered my house my three sons, Tariq, Rauf and Rizwan were still up.My wife and daughter had gone to Saudi Arabia for Umra. I called the three ofthem into my room, and gave Tariq some necessary instructions; I also gave himmy cheque book and told him how to run the domestic affairs in my absences. Iam happy that my sons understood the instructions in the exact sense in which Igave them. They were neither unduly hesitant nor perturbed. They too wereaware of the daily worsening state of affairs. I advised them that if, in myabsence, they were required to vacate the present accommodation they shouldlook for a new place, and if none was immediately available they should leave forLahore.During this period I received a telephone call from Raja Abdul Aziz Bhatti,MNA, from Rawalpindi. I repeated the same message to him, “Time is runningout fast, the Army can take over any time; who knows whether even this night willpass off peacefully.”After telling my children to go to bed. I rang up my personal physician andfriend in Karachi, Dr. Ajmeri. He was coming over to see me.“You’ve already delayed it, “I said to him, “may be you reach heretomorrow and will not be able to see us at all.”That night I lay down in my bed at about 1.30 or 1.45 by that time myeyelids were already under the pressure of sleep. And now when I wasawakened by Roofi’s voice it was about 2.45 a.m.“What’s it, son? I asked, getting up from the bed, “is everything all right?”“Abbajan, some people have climbed up the roof; they have guns in theirhands.”“Guns!”I started to walk out of the room.Yes! Please take your pistol along.”He pulled out the pistol from under my pillow and handed it over to me.