Schrödinger’s Life

I can’t grasp Life.

It eludes me.

It taunts me.

It laughs at me, as it playfully prances around a the corner, not too fast that I lose track of it but not slow enough that I can catch up either.

Life can be so beautiful you feel your chest it’s going to explode, incapable of taking in so much beauty. All you can do is sit there and let the tears flow so you don’t explode.

Conversely, Life can be so heartbreaking you feel your chest if going to implode, incapable of taking in so much grief. All you can do is sit there, wishing you could cry but thankfully unable to do so, lest you implode.

It is a mercy that most days lie in between. And yet, for someone like me, a day can be – mostly is – full of uplifting hikes and stomach-turning falls.

A break in the news, a phone call, a letter.

Echoes of sadness and pain from all the corners of the world.

Today, I was rejoicing on the beauty of this day and the happiness in my life.

Naturally, I turned to Facebook to give witness of this when I learned a few bits of unsettling news. Continue reading

Honouring the children of Peshawar

Another day, another tragedy.

Some men walked into a school in Pakistan and massacred over 100 kids and their teachers.

I just can’t go about my day knowing that so many mothers and fathers are mourning their children right now. I just can’t. And the fact that it is getting so little media coverage compared to other news just adds to my pain.

I often ask people why is it that they don’t say much or anything at all about this kind of despicable acts.

I am often told something like this:

I can’t watch the news. I’ve been told I don’t care about important issues, but it just hurts too much. I can’t process such cruelty.

or this:

It is not that I don’t care. It’s that I care too much. I avoid watching things I can do nothing about.

And then there is the nagging feeling that some things are not talked about as much because they happen in parts of the world that matter less.  Very disturbing. Continue reading

My heart weeps

There are no words.

How do you console a mother brutally robbed of her son, with no hope for justice.

How do you comfort a woman – a mother of three, whose life has been destroyed because she was in danger and dared to try and warn the offender.

What do you tell those three children who now have to grow up with no hope of having a somewhat normal childhood and no hope of having a right sense for justice.

What do you do when women get their eyes gauged out or their fingers cut off by their husbands because they dared to dream of an education. When girls get shot because they have a thirst for knowledge.

What do you tell countless other children and women around the world. How do you protect them. How do you keep them safe.

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