Tag: humanity

Finish that jigsaw puzzle.

Two children had an early morning today. They decided not to disturb their parents and played a game of jigsaw puzzles between the two of them.They couldn’t even complete the game, it was time for school. Grudgingly, they left the game half completed, on their dining table, and left for school. Their mother smiled at them from the door, reminded them to finish their lunch which she had prepared like everyday, so lovingly.
But then, they had an early night as well. Hours before night was to come. It is 5 pm. They are not back yet. The jigsaw puzzle remains unfinished. The only difference-they’re a little wet, and very salty.

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Today has been tragic. A school of Peshawar, Pakistan was attacked by some ruthless, heartless, vile militants. A hundred children died. For nothing. A hundred stories like the one above. A hundred early nights. Way too early. Let this not be about a school, a city, a province, a country, or a religion. Let this be about those children. Let this also be about their teachers, about the people who died trying to save them. Let this be about bleeding hearts. Let this be about dead little humans, and about alive little humans. Let this be about this tragedy. Cry. Be remorseful. Depress yourself. Let everything be gloomy. Let the sun vanish, let the clouds go grey, let the dark prevail.
And then think of those children. Think of their rosy cheeks, bright smiles, colourful eyes, beautiful lives. Let that colour your life. Breathe it in. Breathe them in. For their souls are now all around you. Let that colour seep in, absorb it. Then make their deaths worthwhile. Finish that jigsaw puzzle.

Thoughts >Identity > Human

Have you ever thought of how some things are everything and nothing at the same time? I find it strange. It is strange, obviously. And have you thought of how almost every statement can be justified in one way or another? And that many opposite things can actually equal each other? If you’ve thought of these things, then have you thought about what purpose this serves? Thinking. What does it do? Especially thinking of such perplexing things.

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And it is He who spread the earth and placed therein firmly set mountains and rivers; and from all of the fruits He made therein two mates; He causes the night to cover the day. Indeed in that are signs for a people who give thought.” {Ar-Ra’ad:3}

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It’s becoming common these days to find people, especially teenagers, thinking about deep matters; coming up with philosophical theories, twisting simple phenomenon into some unfathomable philosophy which might even be very impressive. But what use is it? Does it help us discover the universe? Does it help you get closer to the Creator? Does it help you in this world? Does it do anything but make you a mysterious complex character who others observe in awe? Maybe it does. Maybe. We could even come up with some very profound logics to this. I’m not here to judge that.

I just think there are better things to ponder upon than triangles that could begin from one point or from two. Who created the things we twist into philosophies? Why were they created? What’s the purpose of stars? What’s the wisdom of seasons? Why are humans the way they are? Why isn’t everyone the same? Wouldn’t everything be better if we all had the same capabilities and weaknesses? Wouldn’t the world be fairer if everyone had everything they wanted? Then why not? Why is there any evil at all in this world? Why do infants die? Why does war exist? What is disease for? Why is the universe the way it is? How come everything nature has created is so perfect? Who could’ve thought of such complexities that the world possesses? And then who could’ve created such fine detail? And then who could manage so much in such a balanced way? And then…. Who could destroy every single thing to ever exist in the universe? What are angels? Where did they come from? What is religion? Why do we need it? Why does the world contain proportions of everything? Who could think of all of this? How did it happen? WHY did it happen? The world that we live in, does it actually even really exist? How do you know everything isn’t just a figment of your imagination? What is this time that we so believe in? Why does death come? What comes after? Humans couldn’t just exist once to vanish forever, could they? Nothing that is something can ever really become completely nothing. Or can it?

We’re humans, and there are two things we do subconsciously and constantly. Breathing, thinking. These two things actually affect each other largely. Our breathing rhythms affect our moods. Our emotions influence our breathing rhythms. Point being, we can’t help thinking all sorts of things, but our thoughts do eventually become our words which might become our acts; directly or indirectly, consciously or unconsciously. I remember when we first got a TV in our house, I was afraid of it. I think I was 12 or 13. Then I began watching it, and used to think the shows won’t affect me, after all, I’m only watching them. I’m not doing anything of the sort. But I did watch, those things imbedded in my thoughts, and eventually I was confident enough to just joke about them, and then they seeped into my acts in such an unnoticeable way, I couldn’t even put the blame on the TV.

Hence, thoughts > words > actions
And I might go as far as to say: actions > identity

So then basically your thoughts make up your identity, your personality. You can’t stop thinking, and you mustn’t. But think good then. Think of things that give you something to live for. Think about where you are, and what you’re doing there. Think about why you are where you are. Think about how long you’re there for, and how long you’ll live for. Think about whether you’re ready to die. Think about life, and whether your life is good enough.

Think to find yourself. Think to believe.

~Moniba.

The beautiful flower

The beautiful flower
Had grown up
Pampered and loved
Believing
In security.
Only
To one day
Be plucked apart.

Its faith fell
Its bubble burst
It was dejected
But then the
Bestower of such inhumanity
Gently wrapped it
In beautiful paper
Cushioned it
In soft layers
And sprayed it
With calm water
The flower
Young and naive
Dared to hope again.

The beautiful flower
Grew up all over again
When its veins
Began turning black
And its beauty
Withered slowly
Its aroma
Became stale
And the
Bestower of such kindness
Unwrapped it
And threw it away
In gravel and mud
Where it never hoped again.

Palestine, Oh Palestine

There is this place
It’s called Palestine
It used to be pretty
And peaceful and lively
The people lived as they do
Everywhere else.

Then there came to be this place
It’s called Israel
Which is basically Palestine
But mercilessly occupied
It attacked Palestine
And took over most of its land.

So now in Palestine
Or what’s left of it
Where there used to be quaint houses
There’s just a lot of rubble
With broken and burnt doors, utensils and limbs
Jutting out from underneath.

Where there used to be bright smiles
That could light up the world
There now are tears,
burn marks and bloodied cuts
That can rend any human heart
Except those that are not human.

It is a war, not between states
Not between races, nor between fates
Nay, this is a bigger war, one of faith
At least, that is how it started
But now, it is between
human and non-human.

Tell me, please
Is it human to kill innocent people
For the sake of self, and the sake of  hate?
Is it human then also, to remain quiet
And watch such tyranny be?
It must also be human, to  point guns at 4 year olds.

And by this definition,
Humans of this world, humans that feel
Are not humans at all, because they care
And those that don’t, well
They’re humans at their prime
The most evolved of them all.

Israel, I salute you, a salute full of mock
At your utter humanity, and benevolence
Your bombs when they land
With the cheers of your people,
And your guns when they point
At 4-year old terrorists; surely they can kill.

Palestine, I stand with you, sincerely
Your children, your people, your land and your peace
Are my children, my people, my land and my peace
Their bombs when they land, make my prayers fiercer
Their guns when they shoot, make my eyes water
But know this, Palestinians, we are one.

So when they shoot you, I bleed
And when they bomb you, I ache
When they hurt you, I feel the pain
And when you cry for help, I pray
We are blood, we are one body
We are the Ummah, we will rise.

Until then we pray, we pray and we try
Dear Palestine, stay strong, stay firm…
Help shall come, in ways unimaginable
Do not weaken, and do not grieve
You will overcome them, if you are true believers
Allah has promised, and His promise he upholds.

~Moniba.