Amidst a very dark time in the Middle East
No matter where we are from and where we live, we are witnessing a terribly dark time in the Middle East. Each side has their narrative, one eclipsing the other and the truth; clever framing; devious omissions; selective outrage and the usual games at PR and communications.
If you are an Israeli or a Palestinian and have lost a loved one, I cry for your pain and grieve with you in your loss. The loss is individual and personal. We all know that pain as humans and all we can do is to empathize with you and wish we had more power as citizens to influence sane policies and humane solutions for the problems in the Middle East in the halls of power and politics.
But now as we face the prospect of a military led genocide as collective punishment on the already oppressed- the citizens of the Gaza concentration camp- our grief turns into fear and anger and helplessness, the very emotions that led to the start of this cycle of violence just as Nat Turner led the slave rebellion so long ago.
Does the heart have a limit on the pain it can feel, the grief it can process, the helplessness it is feeling stuck in? I do not know, but I am found sitting every day staring into space at the gloomy abyss in front of us collectively. After a while, I turn to my immediate environment- I am healing from a very bad ankle and leg fracture. I am immobile. But I am taken care of by family, friends, nurses, therapists, aides, etc. I even get meals delivered (for a limited time). How is it that I am in this blessed space, while millions don’t have food or water in Gaza? How do I find beauty and light to keep going? It is in the small things that I am present to. I accept the big things far away that are causing so much fear and pain. I grieve and cry and lament, but I come up for air to see the beauty and light and love that I am blessed by. I don’t know how long it will last but for now, let me relish it. I am quite aware of the contradiction in myself- the feelings of horror and beauty, abundance and lack, freedom and enslavement, etc. Human experience is meant to dance amongst these contradictions it seems.
PRAYER
My foundation is my faith in the divine, in goodness, in mercy, in compassion, and whatever we call this mystery- I call it Allah- we have the ability to pause, go inward and reflect. I pray and meditate to calm my heart and my soul. I choose to believe that good will prevail and that peace and justice will arrive one day. My most fervent prayer is that we as human society are able to break the cycle of intergenerational hate that makes the victim the oppressor.
NATURE
Fall is my favorite season, and while I cannot walk this year to hear the crunching leaves, I can sit on my deck and watch the leaves sparkle in the sun in their glorious colors. I can hear them drifting gently to the earth, letting go of their own life so easily and without complaint, making room for the next generation in the spring. We as humans will also learn to let go of life as the dust, stardust, minerals, chemicals that we and the stars are made of remix and regenerate into something or someone else.
COMMUNITY
I can enjoy the company of my family and friends and the constant stream of goodies and food. I relish the hospitality and generosity that is practiced in the East, especially in our Pakistani culture. My daughters call me every single day and keep sending me things I need: robes, socks, foot pillows, clothes storage, loose fitting pants, anything and everything arrives next day by Amazon! My daughter-in-law visited me the other day and colored my hair meticulously and then washed and blow dried it! My Dr. son is my off-peak Dr. as I call him for any question about pain, medications, etc.
The other day my son’s in-laws brought a meal for 10 from A to Z including the paper goods and the kava (green tea Pakistani style). We all sat together – me on a wheelchair- and enjoyed being together and eating together. Another friend who lives nearby sent me four dishes every other day so my husband could bring it to the rehab center. We finally had to tell her to stop as the leftovers were piling up! A distant relative visited me in the rehab and brought biryani and rotis (flat bread) and curries. She wanted to bring pulao (another meat/rice dish) a few days later and we had to again say no thanks very sweetly. One day I received a gift basket from Harry and David, and I kept asking all the kids: did you send it? They had not. A week later, a friend who was away for her grandchild’s birth had sent it, and asked if I got it! I cannot count the random acts of kindness that I have been privileged to. I have close friends who visit me every other day and help out my husband who is on duty most of the day. He sure got the short end of the deal as I had served him when he had COVID only 10 days before my fall. His workload is tenfold now.
MUSIC
I can listen to music for hours and hours as I have so much time. A few nights ago, I was able to listen to a virtual concert held at my mosque. One of the Pakistani American dervaishes sponsored a visiting kawwali group: Farid Ayaz and kawwals. I had been at many concerts with them before, but this was the first time I listened to them virtually. As they performed poetry of Rumi, Bulle Shah and Amir Khusro, I swayed in my bed to this amazing sensory experience. Kawwali is a fusion of Indian, Persian, Central Asian and Arabic/Quranic recitations. It features a musical group of men usually with one or two main singers, while the others are singing the refrains often repeated, and clap hands loudly and rapidly, and several types of drums and harmonium. The musical traditions also range from Indian ragas to ghazal like singing to Sufi poetry and Quranic quotes. It is so rich and so nuanced. And as I listened to it, I got lost in the beauty of the collective performance and how it soothed my soul and told me that all would be all right even if we are heading for Armageddon.
Love and care is all around us. I wish we had a world where we could spread it like spraying it across the world. I wish we would stop spraying other people with bombs. I wish people who get rich by selling arms would rekindle their hearts with mercy and try to make profits in other ways. There are so many beautiful ways to make money aren’t there? Please stop the hate and the violence and the destruction and sit down and talk sincerely to stop this madness! Please give peace a chance, as the Beatles sang so long ago.
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