Untouchable

I know what this pain is 
why it hurts when I close my eyes
I know why the heart aches 
I know why it burns when I try to remember 

For these are the tears that never came out 
For I kept waiting for someone to cry with
Searching for a shoulder to cry on

For I loved her like a mother 
didn't even let me see her face
How loathsome you are 
For humanity a disgrace 

Pity thy soul for it knows love not 
Pity thy life for it is all a loss

May she rest in peace 
For she sacrificed everything for you
May she be with loved ones
Far better than all of you

A few days ago one of my very close non Ahmadi relatives passed away when we went there we were treated like untouchables, It's surreal to be treated as outcasts or achoot in a house u grew up in, by those who don't even belong there... What's more hurtful is the silence and subtle distancing of those very close to you to appease others ... 

I have never felt hatred from others like that but only from these people before as well...  They told us not to come near our loved one, cause they had made her "pak" like we're some achoot (untouchable)... It was very insulting ...

Because we're Ahmadi & they're "official" Muslims. No one thought for a second that there was only one person with a real blood relation and that was me...  And they didn't even let me near her to see my aunt's face... I am writing this cause the only one this could hurt is gone now... and I am so glad that I will never have to see those people ever again...





Comments

S waseem said…
It’s just beggars belief how non Ahmadis regard Ahmadis even in times of trial. At least you tried to see your aunt. May Allah comfort you.
3:10 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Choice

What is life but a fleeting moment of wants and despair, of sacrifice, a revelation of desires, a useless exercise of banality imbued in artificial theocracy. What does the soul need, at least a semblance of permanency, which there is none. This is but an existence of perpetual yearning of one thing to another. To remove the shackles of mediocrity one must first accept the truth of one's own self worth. For its one's own self that is the perpetrator of bondage. No one else can take your freedom away until you let them, a mind can be free even in chains. The soul can soar, see light in the darkest pits, can survive moments of deepest despair. All that matters, is choice.
Read more

How I started writing

Image
For as long as I can remember I loved stories... the school library, the stories Daddy used to bring from Lahore or Karachi, Tarzan, Imran Rehan Series, Nonehal, Sherlock Holmes etc. etc. I even wrote one sci-fi story when I was in 4th or 5th class then there were the aural story sessions in the recess time in school, a bunch of my friends would gather around and listen to my stories... and these were spontaneous on the spot creations I would just ask them where did the story end and then start from there... In high school I was more into poetry than writing stories and stuff. I would never claim my self to be a poet or a writer though... its just release...  I really wish to write something profound but I dunno ... I started writing blog like notes in a Star Trek LCARS inspired program called Holonote in 2000 most of that stuff I used here and there in my blog when I started blogging... but much of it remains hidden cause well ... I just cant put that here... its too personal a
Read more

Under shadows of guns - Eid in Rabwah

Image
This Eid when I woke up to get ready I was in a somber mood. 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. 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 to terrorist threats to the main mosque and why have I been denied this joy? only because of my religion... only because I choose to believe what I feel is right and which is a matter between me and my God... Only because I choose to call this country my home even if I am called a minority, even if my forefathers gave their blood to make this country a reality. The last Eid we had in the Aqsa Mosque was a few years ago. Seems like a distant memory now. I remember hurrying up to get good parking for my car, getting the children ready and then waiting for ages f
Read more