16.12.14

16.12.14*

Each day is a torment. Each day, the eyes wake up in the fear of an unseen trauma. Each day is now, a tragedy. The sorrows of yesterday now seem to be very little in the face of what has happened today. Each day, another catacalysm - for the bright new day, and the hopeful sunrise has turned to dark misery and the blaze of misfortune.

The laughter of a child no more brings happiness in lieu of fear, and the birds of hope hum no more. 

I am not entirely sad for what happened on 16.12.14, but all the facets of tragedy from which the curtains were fallen off on the mournful day. Besides seeing the images of blood pooled School halls and the gory 9th grade class rooms, I also saw the muddy dead bodies of children in Waziristan, our very people bombed upon. People mudering their own people is an excruciating crisis. Undescribly cruel, and inhumane. Catastrophic, and rare. Sadly, I am a part of it. Today, the person on the other side of this computer and the shivering tap of fingers on its keybord mourning about the massacre 16.12.14 is no more just one of the oppressed but also one of 'them'. 

They say war will only heighten our courage and that it hasn't feared us more at all. They say, hope prevails more than ever today. They say we are the strongest in our hardships. And that we'll prosper even more now. Of course I want to beleive that. Of course, I want to bring back the innocent imperfections, the unpainted characters and honest smiles our children. Who doesn't? (Except for the brute who oils a lady teacher and burns her in front of the students, all in the name of religion) I still want to believe that the students will be safe at their Schools even if what it will take is to close them for weeks in the name of winter vacation and Chrismis. And they say, they will be. So if even for a moment, I try believe in that - The air around and my mediocre human insticts just won't let me. 

Because I think I have realized that the bright hope and eteranal prosperity is not the reality. Traumatized 14 year olds, is the reality. Unjust system is the reality. Corrupt law enforcement is reality. Helplessness is reality. The blood on the uniform, the school bag, the lunch boxes and the rotten sandwich inside because the child got shot before the lunch break, is reality. So tell me where to find hope? Tell me the truth behind the optimism and about bright future, liberty and harmony.  

Reality is, that people are still walking down their streets with an unscarred integrity. Adn calling the country the pyara Pakistan - The land of the pure. 

Hope hasn't died; but its muddiness has faded away it's spirit. 

-Fa

* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2014_Peshawar_school_massacre

The thought of you

I avoid the thought of you. 

And, it is the toughest thing in the world. 

Because you dive into the most vulnerable parts of myself 

and come to me then. Like, when I wake up 

randomly in the middle of the night or when I'm tired. 

And when I'm sick. And when it feels like the end of the world.

Or when its just a sad day. 

Only the glimpse of your sight inside my head,

the way you would have taken care of me and the air

with you not in it, then - is an unbearable torment. 

And so, I avoid the thought of you. 

At least, I wish I could. 

-Fa

So, stop. Really.

For your right to reprimand is long gone.

So, take me seriously now. I'm not going to be the same. 

Not now, not ever.

The laughing all the time,and the pink and shiny is forlorn - It's lost. 

There's no point, you see. 

The person you once knew isn't there. The person you let go of, isn't there. 

I'm not broken. I'm not "shattered". 

So, stop. Really. 

And then it came tonight.

And then it came tonight. 

I am tired. The pain is still here. 

So, is the exhaust. But you aren't. 

Neither is the spright. And, I miss that. 

-Fa