To the people of Gaza, A part of me hopes that you're doing well, but I know you're not. I'm writing with a heavy heart on behalf of thousands and millions of people who stand in solidarity with you in these darkest times. I'm in deep grief, but no grief, no pain is comparable to what you are going through. Each day, I try to empathise, but I fail to do so. The agony that all of you are in is simply immeasurable and indescribable. There is an unbreakable bond that exists between you and us, and we carry your pain and your stories with us. We try to do everything that falls in our capacity so that we may be able to answer the Almighty on the day of resurrection. Every time I scroll through my Instagram feed, I see heart-wrenching media – of beheaded babies, wailing kids, bodies being rescued from the rubble, smoke, fire, and tangy orange atmosphere. I sense fear, I sense terror. Your struggles and your resilience are not going unnoticed by us. There's this constant guilt of not being able to help you. We've started boycotting all Israeli products and their food chains. We are protesting against those who are supporting this genocide. Nights are no longer normal for us as we hear your screams, and we feel the palpable trepidation from miles away. For every gulp of water that goes down the throat, we remember you. Our tables might be full of dishes, but the food doesn't taste the same anymore because we know you all don't get to eat there. I'm ashamed of the Muslim world for watching this genocide happen right before their eyes and still not being able to make a move. I wonder what worse our leaders are waiting for. It's unfortunate to see these events unfolding in the so-called modern world of the 21st century, where we look up to western countries whenever morality is talked about. The world is witnessing the massacre of thousands of people and is silent. With every child who's killed, there must be innumerable shattered dreams and goals. There must be a story of every person who's been killed in cold blood. It takes years to build a home, to raise a family, to create cherished memories, and we see it all getting destroyed in no time, mercilessly. The diaries of young children, written wills of kids, a mother who wiped off her son's blood from the ground, bodies with blown-off limbs – everything keeps replaying in our minds like a reel and haunts us to the core, leaving an everlasting imprint on our souls. It has become really hard to focus on any other thing, and life has become more depressing than ever. You have an unshakable and unwavering faith in the Almighty, something we are devoid of. You unknowingly have made us reflect upon ourselves and made us rethink the way we are leading our lives – in utter oblivion. We're privileged yet very thankless. You've taught us what real strength is. You've taught us how to fight for our rights and not bow down in the face of injustice and falsehood. You're living the present-day Karbala, and your unwavering courage is simply commendable. There's nothing that can justify this genocide. There shouldn't be any debate or any questions. I wish I could hug every child, I wish I could wipe the tears of mothers and console the fathers, I wish I could protect you all, give you warmth and shelter. I wish I could alleviate the constant fear. I wish I could lessen your pain and bring back all that you've lost. Those who watch your houses being bombed and your families being massacred and still choose to remain quiet are complicit in this tragedy. This world and its people have failed you, and I wholeheartedly apologise for it – even though I know my apology can never make up for your loss. I wish one day, we wake up to a better, fair world where humanity isn't subjective. I hope and pray that you get justice in both worlds. These days will be over soon. I know the scars will remain. The little girl would still search for her father, and the mother would mourn for her only son. The infant will live to find that both his parents were mercilessly killed, and children will forever be traumatised. But know that you are the chosen people, and you'll be rewarded the highest ranks in the hereafter. This evil will become a dreadful chapter of history, and those who supported them will be loathed by generations to come. You are right, and truth prevails. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free. With love and many prayers, Your brothers and sisters.
QOSHE - To the people of Gaza - Soha Jamshedaccount_circleinfobrightness_mediumcancel
To the people of Gaza, A part of me hopes that you're doing well, but I know you're not. I'm writing with a heavy heart on behalf of thousands and millions of people who stand in solidarity with you in these darkest times. I'm in deep grief, but no grief, no pain is comparable to what you are going through. Each day, I try to empathise, but I fail to do so. The agony that all of you are in is simply immeasurable and indescribable. There is an unbreakable bond that exists between you and us, and we carry your pain and your stories with us. We try to do everything that falls in our capacity so that we may be able to answer the Almighty on the day of resurrection. Every time I scroll through my Instagram feed, I see heart-wrenching media – of beheaded babies, wailing kids, bodies being rescued from the rubble, smoke, fire, and tangy orange atmosphere. I sense fear, I sense terror. Your struggles and your resilience are not going unnoticed by us. There's this constant guilt of not being able to help you. We've started boycotting all Israeli products and their food chains. We are protesting against........
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