Uncomfortably Numb

A day before Eid Pakistan gave us a gift, the gift of burning our houses and killing 2 young children, an unborn child and an elderly lady. The gift of celebrating & dancing in the streets on the deaths of our loved ones, the gift of indifference of the Pakistani media & the people, the gift of going to our mosques to pray, under the shadows of guns. This Eid when I woke up to get ready I was in a somber mood, the news of the babies killed by Pakistan last night, the images fresh in my mind, I knew I wasn't going to the Aqsa mosque (the central mosque) where there would be thousands of people and the sweet smell of perfume would make the cool morning air even fresher, all that seems like a distant memory now and a younger generation is already here that hasn't seen an Eid like that ever. No Those days are gone now. When we used to go to our mosques (places of worship) without the shadows of guns. I was going to the mosque just a few houses away from my house due

After witnessing the horrors of what's happening in Gaza, the sentiment I hear over and over again from the youth of Pakistan is that we need another Hitler. I felt really disturbed by this cause it shows the total disconnect our youth and society has from the ideas and concepts of true Islam, which is peace for all. Which can clearly be seen in full demonstration at the time of Fatah Makkah, when all were pardoned regardless of their crimes. We hear the word "Holocaust" used over & over again, sometimes to play the politics of victimization by the aggressor, but regardless that does not diminish the pain, the horror of death and brutality & utter inhumaneness of the actions.  It also does not justify doing the same to others. But to rationalize murder and hatred to cover up our own inadequacy in dealing with our enemies  is cowardice to the highest degree.  I don't care about the details of whether it happened or not or if the accounts were exagge

Image after image trickles down my Facebook and twitter. Images of children in pain, parents mourning, unmeasurable suffering. Images intermingled with the routine triviality. Some lament the atrocities and on the same page post the mundane. The outrage, just like anything else, worthless. The hypocrisy rampant and selective. Some atrocity becomes deserved while an other, genocide. I lay awake at night sleepless, that image of a child with severed limbs stuck in my mind. I see the news, wishing someone of power in the world would stand up for the oppressed, wishing someone with authority would put a stop to genocide, wishing humans would not just ignore the tears of a child who lost both parents and wept himself to sleep, Alas! nothing. Some days pass, outrage fades away, till the next outrage, the next killing, the next child burned to death. No remorse, as if humanity never existed, those who suffered become the executioners. The cycle continues. All of this becaus