Sipah-e-Sahaba Taliban wrecking mothers’ lives – by AZ

As the Sipah-e-Sahaba Pakistan (SSP aka ASWJ-LeJ) and Taliban (TTP) continue to bring annihilation to it and slaughter courses through its districts, Pakistan wails in desolation on the breath of hate. Cradle of an old and proud civilization, it was not always like this but now it is being consumed, its name being blackened, its history being annulled, and its people being dissolved by the fires of bigotry and violence imported from the sands of Arabia. Stricken from hate and terror everyone seems to be biding their fate or bidding for their war, as dividing curses -fuelled by the wealth from the Middle East- continue to pour forth. As the phallus of abhorrence continues to harden on the promise of a prurient afterlife, our world is burning in an obsequious serenade to the biases held fast in that Peninsula. As the devils of apostatization and terror roam free to honour their spiteful philosophy and the society abounds with putrefied life, it seems that our nascent years were the best days and the rest has been a descent into a bloody sunset that now seems here.Sorry for these dark thoughts that gripped me after watching this video sent by a friend that shows a mother bewailing her son, still missing after Abbas Town’s blast. This mother spoke six days ago and I don’t know if there has been any development about her son since then. Let’s pray she finds her darling lad, the pride of her hopes, even if to mourn over his body reduced to mashed tissues and bones for the crime of being born a Shia. It is not hard to imagine that when her son was born, like every mother, her heart ceased to be her own. It became her son who crawled and loped and hopped and giggled and cried in her lap for a kiss from her. Now, the rest of her life is reduced to a blubbering mess in the wait for reuniting with her age’s future shade. Can anyone imagine the grief of a mother who seeks solace even in the assurance that her son has been blown to death and his pieces now lie in peace? As I watched this video, I asked myself, has the recent bomb attack by the SSP in Abbas Town made it one attack too many? The bombing and attacks on lives and properties have left our society devastated and the people in general and Shias and minorities in particular in fear. Who suffers the most? I think the worst hit are mothers who bear the pain and loss of their beloved sons and daughters and are yet condemned by life to continue their existence for the rest of the family. How my heart ached as I wiped a tear off my daughter’s eyes while watching this mother lament in an agony that does not allow her to even grieve for her son. How I wish he could somehow whisper in her ears:

Mommy, mommy, please don’t cry. I’m in heaven now, so dry your eyes. God is keeping me safe and warm, just as you did from the day I was born. I don’t know for sure why this happened, we parted much sooner than you planned. Please brave the bitter grief on your way, and I’ll be a good boy in all I do or say

With the recurring bomb attacks by the SSP and TTP, the peace of Pakistan has been murdered and the fabric of the society has been eroded. To the families of the victims of terror the life seems worthless. Zafar Abbas of JDC recounts the harrowing experience of some of these women. He explains how in Abbas Town, only the latest in a long list of such instances, no one was excluded – Shias and Sunnis; Mohajirs and others; male and female; the small and innocent; the young and promising; the old and wise, all alike fell victim to this ruthless act of savage barbarity. Shattered and battered they pull along in a neighbourhood where the people are left to mourn the loss of their loved ones. The break of each day offers no comfort or warmth as every dawn is laced with fear and hopelessness. In every home where there was a victim, laughter has long ceased and smiles have been wiped off faces that were once glowing. Heads are bowed in sorrow and with pain hearts are left heavy. But, yet, Zafar describes that the chief mourners are the mothers, who struggle to accept that their loved ones have departed. His voice quivers as he recounts the inconsolable wails of a woman who lost her husband and her son. I neither have the heart nor the words to repeat what he has to narrate. It is happening across Pakistan to women whose loved ones are blown in bomb blasts, or targeted and killed, or die in the blasts in their school vans, or are killed for working for the security agencies. Their breadwinners, husbands, fathers, and brothers are gone without bidding them bye. They have lost their children who were all they had for now and for ever. Like the dart of a sword in the heart, the SSP and TTP attacks have left mothers’ reduced to epithets of agony. How many of our mothers will we allow to be drawn to the caresses of darkness? How many? Is there a dawn for us somewhere?