I fear the unknown.
I fear losing myself in the vastness of the world—what does it really mean to be me? Am I simply another copy printed out of a machine, and told to live within the boundaries of society, not daring to venture into the outlands, in fear of perhaps having to face even greater sorrow; even greater despair; even greater pain. Pain. Perhaps I do not even know the meaning of such an ineffable word. Perhaps the title of pain is simply given to the aspects of reality that seem to strip us of our humanity:
The death of a loved one leaves us hesitant in ever loving again; in fear of suffering through yet another great loss. In fear of, one day, our own heart refusing to beat if it would never again feel the love of the one soul that Death decided to take. If it would never again feel the warmth of another.
The inability to help someone in great need leaves us feeling empathetic and hollow.
The sight of a child being stripped of their innocence as a result of the cruelty of the world we live in; of the people we live with, stains our hearts. Yet pain is more so prominent in accepting the notion that life will spare no one; the purest heart will have to withstand what humanity has made of the world; how humane we are to each other. Every child will become well acquainted with loss, love, cruelty, fear, darkness, and so forth. Every child will feel these forces tossing and turning within themselves like an endless storm. They will be forced to juggle perhaps two or three of these emotions, and face the consequences of allowing even a single one to fall.
Yes, this is what I define as pain.
I do not blame anyone for the pain I have faced in my life, yet I do feel anger toward the people that could have caught the balls that had escaped my grip, but refused to make the effort. As though my problems, emotions, feelings, were insignificant. As though helping another child cope with adversity were a sin. I feel anger toward the people who never offered me shelter amidst the storm. Or should I say, storms. I feel anger toward the people who witnessed what was happening and decided that I would be perfectly fine after the storm passed. But what if I told you that it never did? What if I told you that every day that passed drained the tears that were brought by the storm of another; that life was full of storms hurdling themselves one after the other as you tried to survive what seemed like a hurricane?
Then again, who am I to feel anger toward these people, if I have done the same? If I have sat by the fire in a warm shelter, drinking hot chocolate, and occasionally peering out the window to see yet another child desperately fighting against the wind, the rain, the hail, the snow—whatever it may be—and somehow having the audacity to sit back and watch.
Yes, I fear the unknown, not only within the world but within myself. For I continue to wonder: why would I stand and watch? I continue to search the crevices of my own mind, prepared with a shotgun, in hopes of driving a bullet through the Whisperer himself. Through the man that seems to think he has the right to manipulate my conscience through his persuasiveness. I remember his whispers from time to time: “you’ve already suffered through that storm, do you really want to do it again? For the sake of a child that may not even survive?”
Perhaps I am just another copy from the copy machine, for all I have ever done is what others have done before me: stood and watched…and watched…and watched…
Dearest Sania,
Your writing in this blog post was truly magical and conveys such articulation that, we as individuals, in life sometimes fail to acknowledge. I am once again submerged into another masterpiece that causes me to internally reflect upon my perceptions. Sania, every time you write, I must thank you for it.
You italicize specific words within your piece, and that effectively expresses great emphasis and meaning, and completely resonates with the message you are conveying. (And I must say that image with the quote, it wonderfully correlated with your perception upon pain.)
When you mention how one is a onlooker, they witness such terrors and fail to help, it indicates how society is a partaker within this on a larger scale. It is almost as if through media, we are desensitized to the terrors and cruelties presented. So I inquire, is society what causes us to have the “audacity to sit back and watch” as you mentioned, or is it within our human nature?
You mention how you experienced loss and pain as others seemingly carelessly stood and watched, assuming you would be fine. They neglected to offer help, they failed to empathize, and somehow that sturdy bridge you thought they once were, was nothing but crumbling stones. They were unable to recognize and realize, almost as if purposefully misconceiving your reality.
However, you acknowledge how it is not fair for you to judge or present your dismay, as you participated within the same act through different experiences. This is where your incredible grasp upon realism makes a prominent appearance. Through acknowledging how, you yourself, have been a member of this deceit, you compel your audience to contemplate and search for the acts of hypocrisy they may have participated within. I’ve felt this way throughout times within my life, bitter as fellow confidants watched me suffer. But it is as if they never could relate or understand. Yet what haunts me, is that these are the people who were once close to me. If they fail to understand my anguish, though we had developed relations, how can they possibly discern and fathom what unjustness others are enduring countries away?
Thank you for writing this beautiful piece. If I have misinterpreted anything please let me know. Your writing is a gem that emits a shimmering light. For when it comes into contact with people, the light gets rooted inside within them, I never fail to acknowledge a part of myself I unknowingly had pushed into the darkness.
Sincerely,
Sadia.
Dear Sania,
Your writing in this blog post was truly magical and conveys such articulation that, we as individuals, in life sometimes fail to acknowledge. I am once again submerged into another masterpiece that causes me to internally reflect upon my perceptions. Sania, every time you write, I must thank you for it.
You italicize specific words within your piece, and that effectively expresses great emphasis and meaning, and completely resonates with the message you are conveying. (And I must say that image with the quote, it wonderfully correlated with your perception upon pain.)
When you mention how one is a onlooker, they witness such terrors and fail to help, it indicates how society is a partaker within this on a larger scale. It is almost as if through media, we are desensitized to the terrors and cruelties presented. So I inquire, is society what causes us to have the “audacity to sit back and watch” as you mentioned, or is it within our human nature?
You mention how you experienced loss and pain as others seemingly carelessly stood and watched, assuming you would be fine. They neglected to offer help, they failed to empathize, and somehow that sturdy bridge you thought they once were, was nothing but crumbling stones. They were unable to recognize and realize, almost as if purposefully misconceiving your reality.
However, you acknowledge how it is not fair for you to judge or present your dismay, as you participated within the same act through different experiences. This is where your incredible grasp upon realism makes a prominent appearance. Through acknowledging how, you yourself, have been a member of this deceit, you compel your audience to contemplate and search for the acts of hypocrisy they may have participated within. I’ve felt this way throughout times within my life, bitter as fellow confidants watched me suffer. But it is as if they never could relate or understand. Yet what haunts me, is that these are the people who were once close to me. If they fail to understand my anguish, though we had developed relations, how can they possibly discern and fathom what unjustness others are enduring countries away?
Thank you for writing this beautiful piece. If I have misinterpreted anything please let me know. Your writing is a gem that emits a shimmering light. For when it comes into contact with people, the light gets rooted inside within them, I never fail to acknowledge a part of myself I unknowingly had pushed into the darkness.
Sincerely,
Sadia.
Dear Sania,
I cannot believe it. Your words have, yet again, been able to completely change how I view myself in this world. Amazing. You never cease to astonish me through your incredibly well thought-out ideas, which is further bolstered through your mastery in writing. All of your sentences have a sort of deeper meaning behind them. None of them can be considered to be wasted, or to be thought of as unnecessary. To me, your writing feels like a sort of puzzle; every piece counts.
One thing which I truly thought to be amazing (and something which I may work toward implementing into my own writing) is your use of rhetorical questions at the right time. Your words always seem to be able to provoke further thought into my head through asking rhetorical questions. The questions never really interrupt the flow of your piece (at least in my opinion), and in fact, they seem to reinforce the idea that you were trying to give out in your paragraph.
The way in which you utilized sentence structure in your piece made it very…strong. I would be reading your piece and stumble upon a compound-complex sentence, and then suddenly have a simple sentence thrown at me. To be completely honest, your use of simple sentences made this piece incredibly powerful, more-so because of how you had them placed.
Finally, I just want to thank about the actual content of this piece. I absolutely love your philosophy about how you fear the unknown, but not the unknown in the world, also in yourself. This part hit me the hardest because I finally realize that this is how I also feel. Your final sentence, strangely, gave me a feeling of closure; what if we really are just the same as those before us? Watching endlessly, trapped in a cycle?
Sania, you are not only a very, very talented writer, but also a very talented thinker. In terms of literature, you are a role model to me, someone who is not only able to write deeply, but also give intensely thoughtful philosophies. I sincerely hope that you continue to contribute your intriguing philosophies, as well as develop your writing, because I’d absolutely love to see more of it! I only have two final words to say to you Sania.
THANK. YOU.
Sincerely Yours,
Rehman
Dear Sadia and Rehman,
Thank you so much for your kind words. I cannot begin to express my gratitude. Every word of each of your blogs meant so much. Comments make my eyes swell with tears every time I read them, simply because it is often difficult to believe that my writing could ever mean something to anyone. Thank you so much for making me feel important.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Sania