They Are Not Statistics

Five people have been killed in protests across Syrian towns, 25 people have been killed in a suicide attack in Iraq…More blood is being shed across the Arab world as you read this. Maybe we hear about them on TV while having dinner, or read about them in a coffee shop while waiting for a friend. Maybe we react by getting angry for a second, but then something happens and we forget about them. We go on with our lives as another silent dinner table on the land witnesses an empty chair.

This has been a strange year, dubbed the Arab Spring, a time when leaders who have been stuck to their chairs for decades were removed by young people who lived their whole life knowing them and only them as leaders. Who would have thought that tools such as Facebook, and twitter would be used by people who are fueled by passion and perseverance to remove those leaders?

But the Arab Spring has not ended, and every day we hear news of more and more people falling victim to regimes that don’t want to accept defeat like the Syrian one. While the news of these victims just reaches to us as numbers on headlines, they are not mere statistics, but people who were filled with dreams, passion and hope for a better tomorrow; if not for them, then for the people coming after them.

اللهم ارحم موتى المسلمين والمسلمات

Unspoken Words

Look deep inside yourself and ask yourself how many people have you let down today. How many people are disappointed by a promise you haven’t fulfilled. How many people’s hearts are broken because you haven’t called them back when you should have. How many people are crying somewhere because of something you’ve done…or not. Think of the son who wants to hear this from you, “I’m proud of you.” Think of the parents who wants to hear this from you,”Thank you for all your sacrifices.” Think of the friend who wants to hear, “I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have.”
The thing is, raw emotions don’t always come to the open until people are faced with an annoying incessant ringing tone that pierces your ears with urgency; a wake-up call. Something you can’t really ignore, unless you’ve worked ahead of yourself and pulled out the telephone cord. But until something big happens, we’d rather stay in our comfort zone, wearing our pink glasses, thinking that everything in our lives is fine when really nothing is. We’d rather continue taking people for granted because that’s what we’ve been doing for practically our lives.
Unspoken words hurt as much as spoken words do.
So take care of what you say.
Or not.

Addicted to Painkillers or Pain?

To be addicted to painkillers is heard of, but could it be that some women are addicted to pain? Think about it. Show this quote to a woman who loved someone who had hurt her, and she still refuses to let him go – in her mind at least. she might answer the question by saying, “Because he was everything to me,” or something as absurdly similar. But maybe in her mind, due to some twisted logic, she is just addicted to pain, and likes the feeling of pain incurred after such a hurtful experience. Maybe because, again by some twisted logic, she feels worthy of something for having loved and been hurt, it’s better than not being loved at all. Or maybe she likes the way her friends treat her like fragile glass saying, “She’s just been hurt, so be careful around her.”

Women don’t always hate people who hurt them. Think about mothers and the pain of labor. If they hated people who hurt them then the first venomous looks would be directed towards their bundles of joy. Some might say that maybe mothers are just an exception. But look around you, and you’ll see women who stick by men who hurt them, yet they still manage to find excuses for them.

“He loves me,” she might claim. So does he show love by bruising your face every other day? “no, no, that’s just because he’s jealous or possessive…”

Or the famous one, “It was my fault. I pissed him off.”

Also look around you, and you’ll see women stick by men who they know will eventually hurt them – sooner or later. Men who take them for granted. Could it be that girls are that delusional that they don’t see the pain coming? Or do they just love the drama? Or could it be that they are addicted to pain so can’t wait to welcome it with open arms?

Go figure.