timetochatnow: Shia Genocide Quetta

Stop Shia Genocide!

Shia Genocide- Quetta, Pakistan

It seems like these two words “Shia” & “Genocide” has become one over few years. The mass murders, the loss of innocent lives... I may be young and less mature than your “typical” adult, but I do know what it feels like when someone special is snatched away from you by a force (mostly bomb blast) what are then left are their memories, their belongings and the feelings we had for them. One could say “We are all going to die one day” a bitter truth. But, no one will ever understand. Those who are gone will never come back, but those who are left behind, their family, their friends and all the loved ones... they’re the one who will have to suffer!

A Brother and Sister. The sister isn't alive any more, the brother is injured. Is this justice?

Imagine waking up the next day, calling their names, forgetting what just happened yesterday. The reality hits you hard. It pierces through your heart like a razor-sharp shiny blade. Unfortunately (or fortunately) I haven’t lost a family member, but I have lost a friend last year. No one will actually understand what I will go through day by day as the clock ticks by. On 21^st January I looked at some pictures and videos, I did cry. Looking at 10 years old, who was another victim, it makes me wonder why the innocent children are becoming a prey. No one would know but those filthy animals!

When will humanity wake up?

Imagine yourself, yes you. You are waiting for your daughter and your wife to come back from Karbala, you’re full of joy. You are happy; yet still, deep inside your heart you’re still praying for their safety, so that they will return in one piece. Alive. You want to see your 10 year old daughter and you want to hug her again. You have bought new toys for her; you promised her that once she is back you’ll spend more time with them. You were happy. You have bought flowers for them, so when they come, you’ll greet them with those beautiful red roses... but you didn’t know that those flowers will be used on their graves. That you’ll pluck them one by one while you hands tremble with anger and sadness; you heart twisting with sorrow, you will feel like someone is suffocating you! You will not see you daughter smile again. You won’t be able to see those dimpled cheeks, you won’t be able to see her grow up, you won’t be able to see her get her first job, you won’t be able to taste the sweets she’ll buy from her first salary... you won’t.

A weeping mother whose heart is scarred for life!

In Quetta, Pakistan, one could just look forward for their time. Waiting as the impatient clock ticks by. Tick-tock, Tick-tock. It’s not the fear of losing your own life; it’s the terror of losing your loved ones. “How will I live without that person?” but we all do. We all live with the sorrow. You know, I think a lot about the solution to these problems. What should I do to stop this? But I never get the answer. I think I never will. What can we do to stop this? What can we do? We have been protesting against it. With the coffins of loved ones beside us, in those freezing nights that sends chill down your spine. Those aggressive winds and angry rain blowing away and making it harder for us to show how much willpower we have. We did it last year in January, but yet again it continued... it will always continue right? The government doesn’t care! Hell if they did, people wouldn’t be dying this way! I am no politician and I don’t see myself becoming one in the future. Oh how I hate those scumbags! You will be here awhile if I start ranting about how much I hate them, so let’s just forget about those villains!

Basit Ali's grave...

He was snatched from Earth by those hideous monsters on 21^st January 2014. I can’t say much about him. His name was Basit Ali. I wish I could change the word “was” to “is” when talking about him, but I can’t. I followed his work through Facebook and let me tell you, he was a talented young man. Words can’t describe how much he did for his community and the Hazara people living in Quetta, Pakistan. Some of his friends describes him as a “gem” which is now lost. He made short documentaries and captured stunning pictures! No matter how much I write it won’t do him justice. He was indeed a “gem” in one-in-million!

Basit Ali- a photographer, who has become a photograph himself. His father holds his photograph in his hands (middle)

I have so much to say about the martyrs in Quetta, yet I can’t find the right words... or maybe it’s because I didn’t know them personally. Maybe because I have never talked to them in my entire life! But what I do know are the words their friends and family said about them. I am not much of a “follower” person; neither do I use Facebook to actually communicate with friends (who am I kidding -_-) but once I came upon this Facebook page where a certain person shared a lot of his magnificent photography. I have been following his work for quite some time now and I really love his work!

Some of his work: - https://www.facebook.com/B.A.updates