With what’s happening in the Muslim world, I find it hard to write. It’s hard to concentrate on any one thing. all I see when I look at something is how that moment would play out in Syria, or Egypt, or Iraq, or Afghanistan, or Palestine…. Or even in the more critical areas of Pakistan. Would that even happen there? If i’m drinking clean, filtered water, are the people over there getting it? Are they getting any drinkable water at all? Let alone clean and filtered. And if i’m cooking for my family, do they have families to cook for? Do they even want to cook?…. And if i’m getting a change of clothes, then what are they wearing? Coffins?…. Or bloodied clothes? Clean, black ones in memory of a dead beloved? And if i’m taking meds for a fever, then are they getting the badly needed meds and bandages for their people in severe conditions? I live, I breathe, here in the safety( or the mere illusion of it) in my home, and I see them. I feel them. I imagine them. And my heart aches for them. And I feel the helplessness take over, which is when I remind myself, that they will have their revenge, they will see justice in the end, for there is no one more Just than Allah. And that belief… That’s the only thing that can help them, and me.
I realize that it is close to useless now… To cry for the situation, to think of it again and again, to write about it, to blame the ones who are responsible and wish them ill.. It is of no real use. And to ask ourselves why and how, is just as useless. I find myself thinking what I can do. what we can do. And I come up blank. There seems to be nothing I can do to help them directly. But for the long term… Yeah. I can do a lot. I can think of a thousand ways to help the entire world, and the Muslim ummah in general.. None of them really involve revenge as such. But they are long term ways. It’s something to do.