People

I have decided that the only way we can get rid of the hatred in the world now is to escalate physical human interactions between people of various backgrounds. It sounds simplistic, and in theory perhaps I always knew this. But the last two years has brought it into sharp focus for me.

In these two years, I have met a thousand different people, from all sorts of walks of life. I met, and fell absolutely in love with: Peruvians who mothered me; American Jews who  messaged me their support every time something went wrong back home and truly cared; Christian's from a variety of countries who are among the most pious people I know; Atheists who showered me with respect and were phenomenal friends; Indians who took me for ice cream when I was down, and stayed at the hospital with me over night when I burnt my hand, even with a final the next morning; Australians who became among my most valued friends.

People, whose backgrounds and religions I don't even know, who sent me boxes full of everything brand new that they thought I would need when I first came to the US, without ever meeting me, and drove many miles to come welcome me at the Boston airport; Chinese, Thai, Colombian, Vietnamese, Mexican, Canadian; People from Iceland, Russia, Greece, Chile, Venezuela, Argentina, South Korea, Italy, Guatemala, Kenya, and so many more.

I found that Latin American culture is very like my own in terms of gender roles, and that Jewish mothers are as involved in their kids' lives as Pakistani mothers, and every person I met was a Good Person.

I met an infinite combination of religion, country of origin, orientation, and socioeconomic background, and every single one of them was a Good Person.

More than the places I went, the food I ate or the adventures I experienced, I am thankful for these people that I met, for it has taken away any excuse for racism that I could ever have had in my life.

- Boston, 2015

Loving Faiz

This February 13th was the 103rd birthday of Faiz Ahmed Faiz, my answer to the question 'If you could choose anyone, dead or alive, who would you want to meet?'. It would be Faiz, always Faiz.

Why do I love this 103-year old dead person so much? There are a lot of poets in the world, why am I obsessed with his work? The work of Faiz has the power to move me like no other. His cynicism, his sarcasm and wit, his vulnerability, everything is reflected in his poetry. It makes me cry, and it makes me smile, and I cannot resist it. Ever since I stole my friend's copy of 'Nuskha'haey Wafa', almost ten years ago, I can flip it open at any given point in my life, and find something that makes me feel as if Faiz wrote it specially for me.

But even more than that, it is his passion that I aspire to. I love Faiz for his words, but I love him more because I know bits and pieces of his story. His poetry, which can be translated to mean what ever you want it to mean, was actually rooted in his love for his country. The lover Faiz talks about is my beloved Pakistan. I may not agree with the doctrine he followed, but I respect him for his bravery, and his suffering. He was sent to jail, and he was exiled, but his heart continued to ache for his country, and his love never dimmed. More than that, he never stopped fighting. He could never be suppressed. I love Faiz for his perseverance, his tenacity, for never giving up. Even his darkest poems end with the message of hope at the end. Understanding that this is beyond individuals, and that, even if the revolution doesn't end with us, we will have started the process of change, and the flames we light will be a beacon for generations to come.

I love Faiz and I am envious of him. I envy him, one activist to another, for having the sheer guts to take the stand  he did. I envy him for feeling so strongly about something that nothing else mattered. In today's age, with our vanilla lives, there is barely anything left that is worthy enough to stake ones life on. When Faiz says 'if no one else will, let us march to the gallows', I wish I had something or someone that meant enough to me to do that for.

I envy him because he found something that was worth living for, and worth dying for. I love him because he did.

Unhien ke Faiz se bazaar'e aql roshan hai
Jo gaa'h gaa'h junoo'n ikhtiar kartay rahay