Two Truths: Life and Death

My dear Fiza,

It saddens me to hear of your family’s loss. I have been thinking about your letter and apologize for this very late reply. Your letter and reading about your loss was touching in so many ways. As mothers it is hard to come to terms with the fact that our children may not be able to know their grandparents. I grew up knowing only my grandmother from my mother’s side and step-grandmother from my father’s side. I never met my grandfathers from either side and I just wished that was not so.

My deepest condolences go out to you and your family on your loss. 

You ask some thought provoking questions. In such hard times it is quite normal to dig deep and try to understand what we value; examples we want to set and question our ultimate purpose. I believe our parents have been selfless – maybe due to their experiences, culture or even pride. I notice the many sacrifices which leads them to not ask for that support which they need. Their sacrifices and experiences have molded them into mere “givers.” It is a quality that I can only strive for and can just stand back and admire. Like you, I too want to let my offspring know when I need them; communicating needs is a great quality to possess as parents.

My grandmother, Babo, passed away about 6 years ago and that woman had the most need of assistance from family but she never asked and only gave. She never showed discomfort but had a smile radiate through her beautiful face. She never showed pain but had love and wisdom pour out. She is my prime example of a strong Afghan woman and no one has replaced her to date. I wish she had communicated more to her children of her needs and not go along to keep everything in order and everyone happy. I strive to be that strong but will be mindful of letting my loved ones know when I need them because no one can read minds.

Our parents may not ask but if we notice this trait then it is our duty to make that commitment to be right there for them. However, it all has to be done with balance. Maybe being right next to them constantly may not be too effective or plausible. Sometimes staying present can be just a call, letter, gesture of kindness and being open with our hearts and minds when talking to them. I have seen many examples of children "present" with their parents physically but checked out emotionally and mentally. As a result, the parent doesn't feel comfortable communicating their needs and the child assumes rather than  digging for truth. I strive to strike a balance between being physically and emotionally present because one or the other extreme can be damaging if not handled with care. 

In Islam, families and parents are held in high regard. It beautifully encourages us to continuously question our purpose in life, value our blessings, and do good to one another. Like you said, it is all a big puzzle but only good intentions and thoughts can place each piece in its appropriate place. I pray for strength and wisdom when it comes to molding and raising our children as thoughtful and loving adults. 

A family loss is a hard experience and deeply moving that lasts a lifetime but we must remember to stay patient and remember that our ultimate truth is ‘Surely we belong to Allah and to Him shall we return'."

Keep Peace and Calm~

Thinking about death, life and death

Dearest Zarena,

Now that both our girls are almost 5 months old, I find this the oddest time to write to you. I had been thinking about the best time to begin writing my letters to you, but the idea of rearing a child was so exhausting that I never really got a chance. Little did I know that it would be a sad moment that would bring me back to this blog to share my thoughts.

Last week, my dearest father-in-law and Aelya's dada (paternal grandfather) passed away very suddenly. Someone's death has really shaken me up for the first time so hard. There is an aspect of losing someone and there is an aspect of finding God and His Supreme Power literally shaking you at someone's death. I felt the latter for the first time in my life and it has really made me wonder how futile life is and how little we are.

Papa was absolutely fine, living his routine life when on his return from swimming, he suffered a brain hammerhoage in the shower and fell. He passed away within 48 hours. He loved his children to bits and I remember we were constantly telling him for the last few years how we wanted to return to Pakistan but he kept telling us that now was not the right time. When he passed away, it really makes me mad to think that none of us his children were with him to take him to the hospital.

It really makes me wonder about where to draw the line between the world and our duties towards our parents. We don't realize how it takes a blink of an eye and things can so rapidly change. Is career so much better outside Pakistan that we cannot be next to our parents when they need us so bad? Are people in Pakistan not living a life that we have to leave our parents like this? What's the point of sleepless nights, anxiety for children's success, going through the pains of feeding and bringing them up when we cannot tell them that we "need" them to be "with" us? I really want to be as good a parent as our parents were to us and yet stronger than them in my ability to tell them that I need them, but I wonder if I will be able to do so?

This then brings me to wonder how we think we possess human relations. My mother. My grandfather. My uncle. My father in law. My husband. My children. When in fact, it feels now like we are all part of a big puzzle. A board which only Allah is overlooking and in His power to see them from above, he is the Schemer of all the schemers. We are so powerless and so weak. He possesses us and decides in his great wisdom when things have to be changed. Only time tells us how every thing in this world, is a blessing in disguise and sometimes we probably cannot even see it that way.

I have learnt that the one way to bring up a child to grow into a contented, spiritually satisfied human being is to tell them to try their best but to remember they don't possess any thing. This way perhaps the pain of losing something will be reduced and we will take calmness in the fact that actually this was just a move of the puzzle in Allah's hands and time shall tell where we are headed.  

Empathy in our children to fight injustice

Dearest Zarena,

It's been so long since we spoke via "Khor Jaan" and this was an amazing letter. I really enjoyed every bit of it and was glued to every word of it. Thank you for these wonderful tips but even before I begin, thanks for sharing you and your family's picture. Wow you guys look so stunning - its an absolutely gorgeous photograph. Can I add you are getting more and more beautiful by the day :)

You are very right in those values. I hope I can take good care of all of those values when the time comes. I was having this discussion the other day with a friend, Anke, who used to be with us in Mills College if you remember. She is studying in SOAS now where I did my Masters. Your mentioning "respect" made me think about this because at the time it just really moved us the discussion.

I remember it came up in the context of all the talk about women harrassment in Egypt during riots and how there is an app called "Harassmap" to report this whenever you come across any sort of harrassment on the streets of Egypt. Think this app was created after protests leading to the revolution started across the country and there were reports of women facing insecurity. I am not going into the debate of whether these are exaggerated fears or not, but a single woman unsafe any where at any point should be a concern to all who could have saved her or protected her in any way. At least that's what our faith teaches us too as well as any human morals.

This brought Anke and me to the topic of the mentality where women can be jeered at, looked down upon if they bo beyond certain social "boundaries" or simply used for pleasure and put aside. There are so many boys out there whose parents know they are only having fun but when its time to get married, they will choose a perfect, "innocent" girl - the "marriage" type. I know it really affected me when Anke was telling me about someone she knew in Jordan and said its shocking that a faith that gives so much emphasis on women's protection and respect, has followers that don't really regard it well enough.

We boiled it down to the importance of "mothers" teaching their sons from childhood about "empathy" which is I think what you mean when you say "respect." To me empathy is, when someone can feel the pain that someone else is feeling when going through it. I really wish I can instill this in my children and especially in my sons if I have any. Culturally we teach our daughters a lot about respect, honor, privacy and seeing that their brothers understand that it is important to protect your sister which is great but what about other sisters. Sisters in your neighborhood, in your community, your country, and humanity in general.

It is this "empathy" which will make them strong enough to avoid a wrong step, strong enough to take the right step, strong enough to make the right decisions. What do you think?   

Household Values

Dear Fiza,

The hustle and bustle of life has kept me away from writing to you for a while, but recently I came across an HBO special, The Weight of the Nation, which made me dig deep into what values I want to instill in my children's lives. This is a documentary special that Kaiser Permanente co-sponsored in an effort to fight obesity and a way to commit to its goals of Total Health. Unfortunately, I had missed the broadcasting date of 5/14/2012 but luckily HBO site allows for viewers to stream the series. This week, in an effort to raise awareness, our facility had a showing during lunch hour of part three of the series titled “Children in Crisis.” http://theweightofthenation.hbo.com/ I wanted to share with you some learning and also share my thoughts on the values I would like to instill in our children despite all the marketing and corporate pressures when it comes to food, lifestyle or just a sense of self.

What I saw in the documentary was amazing, shocking, frightening and eye opening all at once. Over time I am learning more and more about health and healthy eating. It is saddening to see how our foods have become so processed and contaminated which are resulting in us killing ourselves softly and slowly. Maybe the affect of the documentary is stronger at this stage of my life and may be getting too sensitive about it all. But then I am a mother and am responsible for nurturing and nourishing another being who is completely oblivious to how marketers, money hungry corporations and government has joined hands at the expense of our health.

The documentary explained how obese children eventually become obese adults who end up with Diabetes, heart problems and eventually end up dead at an early age. It is estimated that 1 in 3 child will develop diabetes if born in the 2000 decade. Shocking! Yes! I listened to the stats thrown around on the screen and was amazed at how ignorant most of us are…how did this “progressive” country come to this point? How was it allowed? Does it call for a change at a larger scale or do we start with ourselves?

I consider myself fortunate to be working at Kaiser Permanente, an organization that values itself on employee, patient and community health. We strive to bring awareness and truly work towards prevention rather than just treating. As a result, I have benefited quite a bit from the various programs we put on and have available. For example, walk programs, Total Health Assessment online, Employee wellness months and ongoing related programs. In addition the organization has made a commitment to changing all its lunches and snacks in meetings to more healthy options – no more donuts, candies etc! Anyway, I share this with a heavy heart because I know that many organizations out there struggle and lack a stronger health initiative. I do hope that most follow Kaiser Permanente foot steps when it comes to health awareness for employees.

Anyway, all this made me think of what change I will continue to bring in my personal family life and commit to. It all made me truly think about the values I want to raise my children with. Maybe it was middle school when I came across the question of nurture vs. nature. For years the battle of the two has been ongoing in my head but watching the documentary made me realize that the two truly go hand in hand. A physician in the series explained wonderfully how our genetics and experiences influence our makeup. With that profound explanation I realized that it is up to me as to how our children will experience life through the values we instill, the models we become and encouragement we provide.

So here it is, the values I plan to instill are: FAITH, HEALTH, RESPECT & HAPPINESS. I wish I could make an acronym out of that but will plan on committing the list to memory ;)

1)      FAITH – growing up, I was exposed to faith through cultural lenses. My grandmother was the only person who I saw truly practicing Islam through every waking and sleeping hour the way it should be practiced. Being that she was uneducated, I was always awestruck at her memorization and repetition of beautiful Quranic Verses (one of my favorite, Ayat –e-Qursi which she taught me to memorize). The beauty of her faith inspired me, moved me and encouraged me to be simple, kind and loving. I can still smell the fragrance of her devotion…after she finished reading from her large print Quran I would snuggle next to her just to sense the sweetness and smell the hands that held the holy book for hours in early mornings. As I grew older, I started exploring more the religion and what it all truly was about: who is God, what is our purpose, why should we believe and what are the stories of these prophets? All these questions started surfacing in College years and marriage years. I have come to realize the that once a person is connected to God through prayer and remembrance is when that sense of being is defined and it all starts to make sense. Because of the many years of searching and learning I have decided that the main value I want to instill in our children is the concept of faith and introduce it early on because I don’t want them to grow up feeling lost without a goal and purpose in mind. My efforts will hopefully show them how to learn the faith, understand it and love it. Only through faith, I believe, does one truly enjoy the life in this world. Otherwise, we are lost souls who will be slaves to the material and man-made world and will never be able to reach our true levels of the self.

2)      HEALTH – teaching and demonstrating this value is key. I grew up with not much wealth but was fortunate to grow up in a household that valued home cooking, healthy eating and avoiding junk. I was always jealous of those kids who’s pantries/cupboards were filled with junk food. Being young and ignorant, I thought that “we just couldn't afford it” but how wrong I was! Now I look back and am grateful to my father who would lug bags and bags of fruits and veggies from the local market and my mother who would bake everything at home and cook everything from scratch – we didn't even use canned ingredients. It was a beautiful household always filled with awesome scents but to top it off we were all healthy – something my parents prided on. In the process, my mother taught me how to prep, cook, bake and do it with such love and pride…basic? yes...but so many lack today due to easy TV dinners, packaged foods and fast foods. Hence, health as a value is key in my children’s lives. I have committed to home cooking our foods mostly from scratch…just like my mom used to do. My struggles will be constant in this arena because marketing towards young people is so strong from every angle and I see so many children at a young age fall prey to brand loyalty which affects their food choices which usually are foods that will kill them. Food marketing is powerful, pernicious and predatory; but we as parents must monitor and control how much of it we allow into our children’s lives.

3)      RESPECT – This value is the base to a child’s upbringing. It is only through respect for the self, others and life (here and hereafter) when one truly can become humble, appreciative and a being full of integrity. It saddens me to see so many young people lack this basic concept. It is respect which will take one far and lead them to make decisions that will have tremendous impact. I grew up being very comfortable in my skin and respected my self. I understood early on that my soul and body was a gift which I must take care. That respect of self spilled over to respecting others, the community I belonged to and the things I was blessed with. For me, this concept led me to make many life decisions which were fruitful in many ways. Hence, it is truly a value I must instill in my children.

4)      HAPPINESS – this is something that one must just instill in the psych at all times. It was my grandmother, who in the face of tragic moments, hardships and heartbreaks; was always able to keep a smile on her face and just leave it fate. I watched her practice happiness with such devotion that it just resonated with me early on. I learned to always keep a smile on my face and look at life and events with a positive perspective. As I grew older I had strangers compliment me on my smile, cheerfulness and positive energy. It was a great feeling to be complimented on something that was so natural to me. However, because of happiness I enjoyed life and its little moments and everything that happened in between. Teaching our young ones happiness will lead to a rewarding life - and that is my strong belief.

Well, there is my list of values that we will be consistently practicing in our household. They are all interconnected which will lead to a healthy and fulfilling life for us and our children – InshAllah! 

The Tradition of Calling Mom

Note: The following blog post has been contributed by Rona Osmani Bimar, my sister, sharing her story on family love and why its important to stay in touch.

Today I reflect on my relationship with my Mohr Jana. This reflection was incited after I finished talking to my sister Zarena about how much I love Mohr (Mom in Pashtu).

It was the year Babo (my grandmother) passed away, a year I never committed to memory (and don’t think I will). One day, while I sat atop my bed, I called Babo. It was two weeks before she left this world and I sat there talking to her sobbing and saying ‘I have been a bad granddaughter because I haven’t seen you for so long’. At that time I worked seven days a week and spent my free time studying for medical school entrance exam. In short, my life at the time was very busy and left me with little to no time for family. One night I just felt miserable and remember just longing for my Babo. Something possessed me late that night because I just could not stop sobbing. As I listened to Babo’s voice on the other end reassuring me that I am a good granddaughter and not to worry she continued on telling me about her day. In between our conversation we both would laugh hysterically and without her knowing I would be sobbing at the same time wishing she could live with me and wishing I could be there laying on her belly like old times.  I reflect back and am more at peace with my mistakes of not spending more time with her. I found this peace after Babo’s passing. I promised myself that no matter what happens in life I will wake up and call Mohr every morning even if we have nothing to talk about. And so it started—The Tradition.

My seven day a week work schedule continued and my life became even more preoccupied with extracurricular at work but I remained vigilant about my phone calls to Mohr. I remember one day being so tired that I was dragging my sentences and feeling so listless. I called Mohr with little in me and started the conversation with our usual ‘Salaam Mohr sunga yai sha yai’ (Hi Mom how are you, well?) she would respond back with the same question as usual ‘Za shayum tha sunga yai shaya?’ (I am well, how are you?). Somehow I mustered enough energy to become a total mischief by continuing the chain of the SAME question. I wanted to see for how long she would go and much to my surprise she continued without a flinch of annoyance at the redundancy. I was naturally in awe! It was then when I realized it’s not about the redundancy. My Mohr really wants to know if I am well.  Being the emotional person that I am, I cried after I hung up and prayed to God for the blessings. I am so happy to have a loving Mom. 

I carry on to this day with my phone calls and Mohr has become so use to me that on days that I don’t call her she panics. I use to think she is the biggest worry wart but after becoming a Mom I realize there is NO SUCH THING! Mom’s worry and that’s purely instinctual. Now I have upgraded to physically being present and hugging Mohr every chance I get because this world is finite and I want to live to the fullest enjoying those I love.

My relationship with Mohr I think became closer than ever after Babo left me. I missed not having Mohr as an integral part of my life partly because she was always so busy with family events and house chores. Looking back, I think Mohr not being ‘present’ in her children’s life was purely cultural. She did just as she saw and therefore never thought anything less of it. As a mother she did so much in the way of passing down traditions, etiquette, and hardwork (pertaining to the house). I remember in every house we lived things were always so neat and clean. She spent numerous hours on cleaning and cooking because that was her way of saying how much she loved us.  I learned valuable lessons from that upbringing and it is just another blessing to know she is MY MOHRAKA!

My phone calls continue to this day and will continue. I realize these phone calls are as vital as remembering to drink water. So much satisfaction is attained at the end of each conversation. I take a deep breath and remember just how wonderful life is to have your Mohraka always waiting at the other end genuinely concerned about your wellness. On that note I will sign off and give Mohr another ring and tell her how much I love her and that I am very well and happy! After all, all Moms’ just want their kids to be happy….. 

Street Children

Dear Fiza,

Your FB share of Lewis Hamilton taking a picture with street children in the Philippines (UNICEF) gave me a major flashback to the street children I saw in Pakistan, Karachi and Quetta when I visited back in October 2006. All this time I had buried those images of small children scavenging through dumps and street litter for food, clothes or god knows what but now I feel like I need to write to you about that heart wrenching experience which I never shared.

Over time I have been curious about what leads innocent children to the streets in “3^rd world” countries. If I run into a documentary or an article I have to stop and read and educate myself. Deep down, I feel good that I am learning about the suffering of these young souls but then I am now feeling like something more actionable has to be done on my part. It is a sad fact that violence and poverty is driving these children to homelessness – they run away due to harsh family lives or abuse from extended families. It is estimated that in Karachi alone, approximately 10,000 children between the ages of 7-17 are living on the streets. Unfortunately, they eventually fall prey to coercion by street gangs who end up abusing them physically and sexually. In addition, the police add to the abuse because there are no consequences for their actions and biased beliefs. Hence, these lost souls live in the most extreme state any human being can live – no love, care, true companionship but mere fear. It is no surprise that their harsh realities turn them to substance abuse. Sniffing, smoking and injecting drugs such as glue, hashish, heroin etc. which are cheap to find in the streets and substance abuses seem to be their only escape; it helps them starve off hunger, loneliness and fear. Such a heartbreaking reality!

In 2006, when Noor and I arrived in Karachi – I was so thrilled to visit my old home town of Gulshan Iqbal-Johar Square and possibly see the old parks and shops that I use to visit with my mom, family and friends. My memories of Karachi were so fond – I always felt like a princess living there because everything I wanted was readily available to me; fun outings and picnics with the family, great friends whom I played with outside all day long without any supervision and the unforgettable months of Ramadan when neighbors would wake each other up for Sehri, Eid shoppings late into the nights. Life was very safe, secure and enjoyable as a child. I was only nine years old when we left Karachi to come to America in 1990 but those memories stayed with me and I always missed Pakistan. Now to think about it, I don’t remember street children from my childhood. I don’t know if I was oblivious to them or maybe so few existed and weren’t in the area that I grew up in. Johar Square was fairly new so maybe the later was true. Well, going back in 2006 my expectations, out of ignorance, were high. I thought I would find that town exactly the way I had left it. Clean, happy, green with little girls and boys running off to school in their neatly pressed uniforms and shops opening up to sell goods to the locals and those same Suzuki’s exclusively escorting travelers from the main roads to our town because cars were not allowed on the road to our “Johar Square” complex.

When we arrived at Karachi airport in October 2006, my aunt, her son and husband picked us up – it was night time so I didn’t see much as we were passing through some towns to go to Surab-ghot where they lived. I did notice lots of people on the street but thought it was normal because it was the last days of Ramadan and people usually would be out in crowds shopping for Eid. A few days past and I started learning more and more about the conditions in Pakistan and the amount of fear that existed. My aunt and uncle were very weary of their children going out to the streets to play, they were reluctant to Noor and I going out without an escort and they made sure to have a Taxi ready right in front of the house if we did decide to go out. I questioned the fear and they explained in very little words that it was due to the “street children.” I didn’t understand but basically the explanation was that there were many groups of gangs out there on the street near their house and they were always ready to steal or mug if they detect that someone had “goods” on them. Out of respect, I stayed cautious and listened to their guidance around the city. It was October but boy was Karchi HOT and super humid. Luckily I didn’t have to wear the burqa or full covering but was able to get a way with a long scarf with my cotton Salwar Kameez. This gave me the ability to view and take in how the area I grew up in had changed so much. On the second day of my arrival, I asked my aunt to take us out – I wasn’t really looking forward to the shopping but really taking in what I had left behind so long ago. As we ventured out to the main roads I noticed so much rush, so much pollution with trash burning on side roads and so much poverty. Immediately my attention went to the litter filled sidewalks/streets with dozens of children, boys and girls, ages ranging from 4-12 maybe older but because they were so malnourished I couldn’t tell. I saw young children smoking, some lying around/sleeping, many with ripped clothes grazing through the litter. It was the most painful scene and experience I had encountered. I asked many questions but was never given true answers, I realized that maybe it was due to ignorance on my families part or they had learned to accept it as a norm just like we here in the US have accepted gangs/drug dealers in inner cities as the norm so I stopped the questions and just observed. I was quite affected by these street children’s realities; I couldn’t sleep well or eat well because my mind would drift outside the gated house into the streets and think of what those young kids may be up to at that hour.

It was then that I contacted you to come take me to Defense so I can see a friend who could understand the emotions I was going through. I had never visited Defense before but when I entered the city I thought I had stepped back into my memories of Karachi and Johar Square from my young days. I was so happy inside because for once I was enjoying my trip without being reminded of the poverty that did exist in Karachi. Defense truly was beautiful, like a little cocoon and so perfect. I loved visiting you and meeting your beautiful mom and dad…meeting the generous and happy cook and driver. I mostly loved going upstairs to your room – it brought me back to the Mills days when we would visit each other’s dorm rooms and sit on the bed chit chatting or just sitting around trying to figure out what to do. I have such fond memories of my visit with you in Defense. The shopping mall, drive around Defense in the air conditioned car and me worrying the whole time about your driver waiting for us to shop (I thought, how cruel he must think we are to make him wait!) and of course the lovely dinner outdoors that your parents treated us to at the local club (can’t remember the name). It was fun to see all the snobby (no offense) aunties with their daughters by their sides like they were showcasing their prized possessions. It sure was an experience, truly loved every bit even the new money aunties – too bad I can’t recall the little jokes we made here and there but it was quite some fun. So thanks to the one day adventure with you, I felt more balanced and relaxed. I finally thought I could enjoy the rest of my trip. Maybe it was then that I shut out those images of street children deep within – a state that most will fall into when they feel helpless, hopeless and powerless.

The next few days passed and Noor and I headed out to Quetta, Pakistan to visit his siblings. I was happy to find that the weather was not as hot and humid – a great relief but it sure was more conservative then Karachi; I couldn’t get away with just a headscarf anymore but I didn’t mind because I truly wanted to experience the full living style of the area and it wasn’t as hot as Karachi. There was a huge Pasthun population there and of course the streets were busy and bustling with vendors, young and old shoppers and just people carrying on daily lives. It was nice to visit because I was also looking forward to meeting other cousins of mine and of course meeting the rest of my In-Laws. Everyone was so happy and hospitable; I felt very comfortable and felt genuine love from the young and old. Noor’s brother lived on the outskirts of town so every time we wanted to go to town, we would get a rickshaw or taxi to venture out to town. Poverty existed but it wasn’t as much as Karachi or maybe I didn’t witness it as much because we were staying outside of town, I felt quite comfortable – for selfish reasons. I couldn’t bear to see anymore suffering; I was enjoying the nice weather, cheery faces and young kids that were playing in the streets. We celebrated Eid in Quetta. Eid in Pakistan is amazing! So different from how we celebrate here in the states. Kids from all over the neighborhood came to visit my brother in law’s house. We had them come in and some came and sat in the family room for a cup of tea. We laughed and joked and shared stories about our new Eid outfits, henna paintings and preparations for this big day. I can not describe the giggles and smiles on their faces as I stood there chit chatting with them and complimenting them. It was truly a joy meeting all the kids from the neighborhood the funniest part was when they started comparing my looks to some Hindi movie star – I thought it was the most hilarious and cutest thing...good times.  

My month long trip was soon coming to an end and I had learned and seen so much. In Quetta I hadn’t experienced any major sufferings. One day I was going out to town and my eyes turned to some street litter. The images of those children in Karachi started re-appearing. To my surprise I saw young kids about 4 of them scavenging in the waste. Towards the last few days of my trip I again noticed a few children out on the street late at night. My cousin took Noor and I out to an ice cream parlor. When we were heading back home right there in the middle of the street laid a baby – maybe at the age of 3 or 4. I didn’t realize it was a child and when I did I wanted to run over and grab him/her my cousin re-assured me that they were not alone that the parents were nearby but usually put out their kids on the street like this to beg. To this day I think about that baby and why I didn’t stop. I should have stopped, I should have showed some love and care, I shouldn’t have been so fearful of the night or the possibility of what could have happened if I had stopped. That regret and guilt will forever be with me, those innocent children’s realities will forever haunt me and their images will forever strike me.

In 2008 when Slumdog Millionaire was released, I went to the theaters with Noor to see the movie. The first half of the movie just triggered my memories of Pakistan’s street children. The brutal lifestyle, inhuman treatments etc. were all replaying in mind. I sat there in the dark sobbing – not of what I was seeing on screen but of what I was reminded of. It sure was deep pains. I hope and pray for the young and innocent that fall prey to poverty and helplessness. I find great comfort when I hear of great organizations like UNICEF who are out there bringing light to these issues around the globe and helping fight unjust realities of our times.

In June of 2004 there was great study done: United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime - Solvent Abuse among Street Children in Pakistan. It outlines the drug abuse among this group of children. It also provides some viable recommendations of how local and international awareness is necessary in order to bring about an organized strategy around solvent abuse which would include prevention, rehabilitation and support to the affected street children.   

Stories that make it and those that don't

Dear Zarena, Sorry for writing back a bit late - I had been unwell the last week so it took me a while to recharge my batteries. I am so glad you went to the vigil and wrote to me about it. I could completely imagine myself being there - you described everything so touchingly. It was indeed a very sad news and I couldn't help but notice the discrepancy in the way media portrayed the news.

I really don't understand why at times media so blatantly plays a biased role. Like you mentioned, what was hurting them to show that there were double the number of people attending the vigil. Just a week before these ruthless killings, there were 3 British soldiers that died in Afghanistan and the media really picked up on the news rightly so. Like you mention it hurts whenever a mother's son is killed in a war that makes no sense. There were interviews of their parents, stories of their times outside of the military and their achievements within military. This also called for the commemoration of every other soldier that unfortunately died in this war in Afghanistan. They called it "the club no one wants to be a part of" (I.e the parents of the soldiers who gave up their lives for their country's war).

 It hurt me to watch that news but then it hurt me more when so ruthlessly were innocent civilians, majority of them mothers and children, murdered at the hands of the soldier or perhaps soldiers. We heard enough about the soldier who killed the Afghans, he was portrayed as a Victim of the war! He had already psychologically suffered in Iraq we heard and had seen his friend killed some time ago in Afghanistan. We are meant to sympathise with him and the only question that was raised in media was why the US military allowed him in Afghanistan. This too was portrayed as an "accusation" - I heard this term "accuses US government" so much in the news. Automatically we were made to believe that this is merely an accusation and not necessarily the truest portrayal.

 But somewhere along the story we heard nothing about the real victims. Who were these mothers, who were these innocent children? What were they doing? Who were their families thinking? What were their dreams? It was sad to hear recently of a school bus from Switzerland that ran into an accident and scores of little precious lives were lost. We saw hour by hour story of the one British child whose life was lost in this fatal accident. I cried. But do the kids, the precious innocent lives in Afghanistan not deserve my tears. Why? Because its their fault they are worthy of being attacked? It doesn't make sense.

 We are meant to sympathise with the enraged soldier who murdered these innocent lives because perhaps he saw his friend die at the hands of the war and it messed his mind up. What about the fathers and brothers of these women and children. Will I be told that their minds were messed up because of this incident when they pick arms up against US soldier or will they merely be portrayed as Taliban and Al-Qaeda terrorists. The soldier who took up arms legally, can be sympathised with but the common man who took up arms cannot be studied.

 I am lost for words. And then we wonder why hatred has increased in this world! We wonder and wonder why we have come to a stage where the Norwegian killings of teenagers happened, why innocent lives of Jews were met with hatred. Why there are radical parties coming up in Europe and America hating Romas and Mexicans and banning, ranging from banning halal meat in French schools to minarets in Switzerland. If media had a soul it would understand what it was doing to aggravate this venom. If all of us played our part in shutting out hatred in an unbiased fashion, cutting it from its roots, we wouldn't be crying over the innocent lives lost in Afghanistan today.