attack has happened in Dehmezang. He must be busy helping the wounded and martyrs because many people have died. Qurban Ali will be fine." When Mohammad Ali and I called again, neither of us received an answer. I was losing my senses, I was so worried. I told Mohammad Ali that I had to go to Dehmazang myself. I left the house and went to Pol-e Khoshk. When I got there, one of my relatives saw me and asked me where I was going. I explained that Hasib had joined in the demonstration and that after the explosion, he wasn’t answering our calls. My relative told me: “Do not worry. Go back home and I’ll go get him”. He took my phone. I don’t know why, maybe he knew that Hasib had been killed. I came out of the house several times between three and six o'clock. I was standing at Pol-e Khoshk bus station and intended to go to the mosque and pray. Up to that moment, I did not remember that I had to perform prayer. I was just wandering around full of anxiety. A mother would prefer to be buried herself than to see her young child die before her. At that exact moment, I saw another relative, named Ismail, passing by. I ran after him but could not catch up with him. He went into mosque and I entered the mosque but could not see anyone inside. I came out and noticed three relatives approaching me. One of them, named Sarwar, was not feeling well. I asked what had happened to him. He said he had been slightly injured. I asked him if he knew where Hasib was. He said he was coming with Muhammad Ali. Women have no other resort. That why I started crying. I was slapping myself and crying. They took me home. When I opened the gate of the house. I saw my niece-in-law clapping hands and saying: “What are we going to say to Hasib's mother?” As soon as I heard her saying that, I broke down, slapping my face and pulling my hair, and that’s when I noticed Qurban Ali’s dead body. I was unable to stand. They took him to the mosque and bathed him. Blood was flowing from the stream in front of the mosque. My other son sat next to me and said: “Mom, please don't cry, calm down.” Eighteen bullet wounds could be seen on Qurban Ali's body. The bone on one side of his head was missing. His hair was stuck to one side of his head, and his leg was broken. It was 10 p.m., and the blood continued flowing from Qurban Ali's body. With all the shops closed, there was no cloth to make a burial shroud. There wasn't even plastic to stop the bleeding. Since the bleeding did not stop, they brought lime from outside and put it on the wounds, but no matter how much lime they put on the wound, the bleeding just would not stop. As an ultimate solution to stop bleeding, they mixed