Our Time is Running Out? Oh yeah..

My city gets bombed, people die. Yet I indulge myself in my own silly problems, my trivial self. A religious procession is targeted and safe in the comfort of my home, I readily dismiss it as another one of those recurring events that have so terrorized the people of my country. All this is expressed without empathy. After all, when you are so detached from the common Pakistanis – the real soul of our nation…how can you possibly even fathom the complexity and magnitude of their problems? Not only do they face the more than occasional threat of bomb blasts in their area but they also the lack the ability to secure themselves against such events. Their whole lives are based in high risk areas; they live, work, sleep there. How can I, living in a bubble of false security, begin to comprehend the dilemmas they face losing their family, friends and loved ones when I, myself, have never had to experience that emotional trauma? I can not. All of us, the privileged ones, can not for even a moment realize the degree of pain these people feel. We have gotten so accustomed to the regular news bulletins on another suicide attack in another city in another bustling area which has victimised even more innocent people, that we are now immune to the gravity of the situation. We watch the footage time and again, but do not see it for what it truly is – a holocaust. We listen to all the analyses and interviews but can’t really hear the anguished cries of the people actually affected by it. We express sorrow, but inside, feel nothing except maybe relief to have escaped it this time. How much longer will it be before they attack our neighborhoods? Before it is our families and loved ones that are targeted? The only thing left for us to do is count our blessings before they’re snatched away..
What a happy new year..

Don’t look back in anger..

There are important days, days that aren’t very significant and then there are some days that you won’t even remember a week later. Instead of wasting away the better years of my life, i want to make sure every day is be worth something. I don’t want to end up like those people who spend their lives regretting the things they could’ve done, should’ve done, but didn’t. I want to be different.

Stuck.

I don’t know anything. I’ve realised that. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring or even the next few hours (though I think I might be asleep then). I write this without fancy thesaurus words or long adjectives: I don’t know myself. What i do know is that I feel trapped in my own little world which I can’t seem to wriggle out of…or as they say, perhaps I’m simply a lost cause. I also know that I am blessed. Having a roof over my head, not having to beg on the streets and not getting blown up by a bomb, in my country, is a blessing. I should be content. Then why the hell am I not? I want more. How selfish does that make me? Very much so. What am I doing about it? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But in my defense, I don’t know what to do. I need my space! I’m sick of my stupid country, sick of its stupid people, sick of myself. Oh well, can’t do anything about it now, can I? Self pity. UGH. Tomorrow’s an important day. I think. SO many things can get worse. I’ll keep praying till i fall asleep then. God help me.

 

I love yellow. And I am a mess. That much I can be sure of.