I am very sad. I want to cry,

 

First Flight

It was just another day in my life when I was lying on a charpai (bed) with my siblings when my father called out my name, “Faisal! Faisal!” I ran downstairs and saw my father strolling in our sehan (lawn) here and there with hands crossed behind his back. I paid salutation to him after which he broke the news to me that I was going to the shehar (city) to complete my studies. This was sudden but not unexpected, as such were the customs of our gaon (village). Some of the boys, after completing their middle education, were sent to shehar either for work or for study. He then went on to tell me the related details. He told me that I would live in Abdul Raheem Sahab’s house and will help them in house chores while continuing my studies. I couldn’t resist nor ask any question; we were bound to accept our parents’ decisions as final. I completed my middle school last year and was now spending my time playing cricket all day long. My father had a desire to educate his children, and my good percentage couldn’t let my father see me wasting my years. He decided I had to go, so I had to go. The words “help them in house chores” equaled that I would be a servant there and will be admitted into a government school to complete my education. I knew it and had no problem with it; many kids from our gaon used to go to shehar to study while working in someone’s house with whom their parents had salam dua.

That night after packing my clothes and putting other necessary items in my school bag, I went to bed. Staring at the ceiling, many images formed in my mind. Images of radiant bazars, hustling bustling streets, and big houses. We used to go to shehar every wedding season, filling a whole bus and enjoying our way there. It was an event, especially for the women and the kids. I and my cousins used to enjoy variety of foods and colours there. Until now, these were my memories of shehar. I looked at the charpai next to me and saw my two brothers. They slept after crying at the news of my departure. I pondered on their fate and what the upcoming years had reserved for them. Whatever it might be, I made a promise within myself that I would work really hard so that they would never have to compromise on their dignity and live in someone else’s house. Although, I was not showing it but deep inside I was also despising the fact that I would have to live in someone else’s house.

The day of my departure arrived, and all the relatives came to see me off. My brothers were still crying about my departure; I consoled them and bid farewell to all the relatives. Abba Jan came to the bus stop with me and patted my back, saying, “Make me proud”; these words scared me more than raising my hopes. Thus the bus arrived, and started my journey of being a man from a boy. I reached shehar, took a tonga, and reached Abdul Raheem Sahab’s house, my new abode. I was welcomed by Fazeela Baji who was sitting on the lounge sofa, and her two kids were playing around her. I greeted her, she pointed me to sit and I sat on the floor near her. She then went onto explain the rules of her house, the routine of every family member, and then showed me the way to my room. It was a small, clean room; a foam was placed in the center. I sat there and began contemplating on all the events that have happened until now. I thought of my family, friends, and gaon. I then thought of my new lodging and these people. It was a family of six, and the house was spacious, clean, and silent. I wondered if shehri birds also flocked their wings silently. After some time, their son who was my age called me and said, “Food is in the kitchen, heat it up and eat well.” I was going to take a pot when he, Hamza Bhai, showed me a heating box i.e., a microwave. He showed me how to use it. It was nice but in my heart I still doubted if it’s healthy. It is our nature; we think food cooked on wood is best, stove is unhealthy and now this microwave seemed beyond dangerous. Hamza Bhai’s kind voice was a relief after a whole day in this foreign place. By night, I had met all the members of the family and concluded that the kids and Sahab Ji were friendly, but Baji and Bari Baji kept their distance. However, before coming here, my uncle said to me, “Do not fall for these shehri’s sweetness. They know how to keep us in place. Know your place; they’ll be kind, be loyal; they’ll be generous, but be a friend; they can’t do it.” I kept this in my mind.

The next day after breakfast, Sahab Ji took me to school for admission. On our way, he talked about my gaon where he used to go in summers and about the activities he enjoyed there. While listening to him, my eyes were glittering to find traces of similarity between his activities in the gaon and mine. He was in the office for the admission procedure while I wandered around. The school was very big and organized compared to my gaon’s school. It had proper classrooms, a big ground, a cafeteria, and somewhat decent students. I liked the school and was satisfied with my father’s decision. Sahab Ji instructed me to work hard and said that as long as you are disciplined, you’ll make your place in everyone’s heart. At home, I washed the daily dishes, ironed the clothes, and bought daily groceries. These works were neither tiresome nor long so I had ample time to study as well. When I was not working, I was in my room either studying or lying idle. I also observed that my presence anywhere in the house except kitchen was not much accepted, so I abstained myself from doing so. For school, it was going well. It was not the best, but it started teaching me a lot. I also started to gain teacher’s attention due to my quick wit.

One day, I was watering the plants when Hamza Bhai asked me of my hobbies, I told him, “I don’t have many, but I play cricket and am very good at it.” He said, “Oh that’s good! I would take mama’s permission and take to you to the ground next Sunday”. On Sunday, after completing all tasks he took me there. It was a big ground, boys were in proper uniforms wearing pads and helmet just like we see on television. It was not like our cricket; they had proper teams, an umpire and prizes for the winner. Hamza Bhai was a left-hand batsman and played really well. On every six, I used to jump and clap the loudest for him. He smiled at me as if he was proud. Their team won the match, and he was happy. But I was more excited than him, I kept telling him the way he looked while hitting big sixes. He was smiling fondly. When we reached home, he told me, next week they are having trials, I can also come and give it a try.

This gave a new life into my body and I spent the whole week in anticipation of that day. When that day arrived, Baji gave me permission to go after doing the dishes. I was doing it hurriedly to reach there. I was putting the utensils in the cupboard when my elbow accidentally touched a glass placed on the edge of the shelf and it fell to the ground. It made a huge noise and pieces of glass shattered in the whole kitchen. Baji came running, shouting, “Where is your attention, it is all because of that damn cricket; you are not going anywhere.” She kept nagging that it’s Hamza Bhai’s fault who is showing me new arenas. I kept standing there and started picking up the glass pieces. One pinched in my hand but I didn’t care. I kept on picking them and suddenly noticed my blood drops on the floor. I took the floor clothe, wiped the floor, went into my room, and began crying. I thought of the trials which were going on at the moment and a wave of tears came into my eyes. These tears were of sadness, humiliation, and alienation. I knew I worked in their house but they didn’t own me, my dreams, or my thoughts. I thought of giving up and going home. But the fear of my father and the future of my siblings restrained me to do so. This small incident would not have impacted me so much but it was the difference I felt at every point in this house. In my utensils and theirs, in my books and theirs, in my clothes and theirs, and in my position and theirs. Difference was in every aspect, every time some guest came, Baji used to tell them, “We treat Faisal just like our son” but it was not true. I knew it can never be, nor I demanded it, but her claim itself was demeaning to me. The Baji’s sister used to come and treat me as a toy for her kids. She had given me the nickname ‘Kaliya’ from a TV character. It was done out of love according to her, but her kids, three or five years of age, used to order me around saying, “Kaliya Kaliya.” It might be modern-day slavery practiced in almost every other house in Pakistan. After these incidents, I restricted myself in their house and decided to spend the next few years quietly for the sake of my studies.

Two years of mine had now passed in this house. I completed my matric with 85% marks. It was an impossible task for someone like me and not so achievable with the education I was getting. I had bought a cheap smart phone while saving up some money and learned every topic from there. If someone like Hamza Bhai used to learn a topic in 30 minutes, it took me 2 hours, but I kept on striving. Without knowing, I developed a love for reading, and my learning capability also expanded. Books were also an escape for me to envision an honorable life. Everyone was surprised by my result; some were very pleased. However, Baji concluded that these schools have connections and make their students get grace marks. I didn’t care but was complacent with my work.

It was winters in this house, the winter sun was shining on the high window panes. We were busy taking out blankets and quilts to be placed under the sun. I was in the store room with Baji, taking out the quilts out of the techy case when Bari Baji came and opened her cupboard’s lock and put some money. I didn’t care much, but it passed my eyes. We went on the terrace, laid the blankets, and sat in the sun. The kids came and laid on the foam. While lying under the sky, they made different shapes out of the wandering clouds. One declared it as a chicken piece, the other as a car. It was an amusing scene to watch and made me remember my siblings. Next weekend, I was going home and promised my younger brother that I’ll bring him a remote-control car. For this, I had asked Sahab Ji for early salary, and he agreed to it. Sahab Ji was a kind person, he appreciated me for my achievements, and made sure to buy me new clothes on Eid. I had a high regard for him.

A few days later, an incident happened that left an indelible mark on my life. The whole family went to attend a wedding. They left me home to look after the house before them. The two days passed, and they came home at midnight. In the morning, I went to college and on my way back bought some vegetables and fruits which Baji had asked me to do so. As I entered the main gate, the whole family came out and Baji came running and pushing me, chanting “Chor! Chor! Where is the money? Where have you spent it? I told you not to believe these people. They have a habit of stealing and can’t live long enough without it”. I didn’t know what happened. I tried to prove myself, asked for a minute to explain myself but got nothing in return. I looked at Sahab Ji and Hamza Bhai with hopeless eyes, but they kept standing there watching me receiving curses and slaps of Baji. I left the fruit bags which I had bought for the family there and went straight towards my gaon. I cried on my way in the bus, remembering the days in which I served them loyally despite the humiliation. After all this, I deserved trust; if not trust, then a chance to explain. Her words kept on echoing in my head, and no one said a word on my behalf. I reached home and cried in front of my father for the first time. “Abba my izzat (honour) is tarnished there every day, I don’t feel human anymore. I don’t want to go there”. My father hugged me for the first time and patted on my back while I kept crying. He knew such things happen in the shehri houses with us. I spent my next few days lying on my bed, trying to recover from a long trauma. The fact that I could move from one room to another easily, sit wherever, laugh wherever, talk in a high tone mad me cry at first. But it started liberating me slowly. After two weeks, I received a call from Sahab Ji who told me that Bari Baji had forgotten where she kept her money and accused me without proving it. He apologized to me and asked me to come back. I listened to him but politely refused. He was disappointed but didn’t insist further. I also didn’t want to imprison myself in that house anymore.

I spend few weeks recovering myself. My father didn’t pressure me about anything, but I could see a hidden desire in his eyes for me to be an educated person. I knew it and also wanted to do the same, but this time differently. I wanted to live in a private hostel at my own expenses so that I could complete my studies without burdening my father or anyone else. I went to the shehar and tried to find a job in a call center. After a week of searching and applying, I finally got the job. I then started going back to college while doing the job. It was on hard on me physically, but mentally I was relieved. I kept on working for my brother’s case to save them for the traumatic experience which I had to go through.

After two months, I was on the hostel terrace looking at the city lights, fast moving cars, and tall buildings of the city which were once hard for me to look at. But now, looking at them, my feelings had changed, I could now think of dreaming of them and possessing them. My decision for my self-identity few months back had led me to this point. I knew that back in the gaon, my father would be happy when thinking about me, my siblings would be envisioning me as their mentor. I was proud and started walking towards my friends who were waiting for me to explain to them some concepts of physics. The weather was really pleasant these days.

Hobbies; a reflection of person and their self

 I use knitting as apart time hobby. I developed this hobby when I was in depression because I heard many people say that knitting helped them a lot. I also experienced this when I was too focused on each stitch and knitting it correctly, I would not think of anything else. this would help me to forgo all the horrible memories even for some time but in doing so I did not realize that I was developing an amazing hobby and learning amazing craft. It made me realize that those who neglect the importance of art have not realized that it is the only thing in which we get comfort and way of expression whether it is through painting, song writing, poetry writing or learning crafts. Till now, I have learned to  make gloves but it is a lot of improvement for someone like me who didn't know how to stitch a button. I am proud of myself, if I'll hate on me, then who will be there to cheer for me. People only listen to you and admire you when you have achieved something or emerged as the winner but no one listens to the runner up, their story, their efforts. No one realizes that they also had the same share of struggles but were not able to achieve that by few little steps. Does this mean that they don't deserve to be appreciated or listen, they don't want sympathies they want to tell it to all and make a bold promise again to everyone to achieve this or something else again....does my thoughts make sense to you....or I am just too random. I don't know but it's all connected in my head...knitting, depression, runner up, failure, effort. But you know all this makes me continue even more stronger this time and work more hard. After all what happened I don't have any regrets because when you give your all, you know in that time and circumstances  that was the best of best that you gave. working hard never leaves you with regrets because you know deep in your heart that you were sincere to yourself and with your dream. After that one failure, you know I was afraid to dream. I didn't wanna dream or make any goal so that  I won't be hurt when it is not accomplished. But now, I have healed and am ready to dream because dreams are what make us live. This time I am going to dream, work for it, work very hard for it and achieve it. But even if I still would not be able to achieve it, I will hold my guard high this time, I will cry but I will not tear apart. Remember it you have to work hard and give your best despite caring for what the results might be and when you read it again be happy and don't cry as you always do. Be proud of yourself if you have achieved it and be happy if you lagged a few steps because remember this time your goal is far more big, rough and soul tearing. I love you....

My take on "If there is a God then why does Evil exists?"

 

PROBLEM OF EVIL

The problem of evil has been traditionally related with two attributes of God which seem to contradict each other i.e., omnipotence and all-loving. The first question is that if God is omnipotent, he must be able to abolish evil and the second is that if God is all- loving, he must wish to abolish evil.

 The questions asked by philosophers about problem of evil are:

1.If God is omnipotent, but he is not removing evil this means He is not all-loving.

2.If God is all-loving and wants to remove it but is not able to remove evil, this means he is not omnipotent.

Thus, according to them God can not be both omnipotent and all-loving at the same time as evil persists in the world.

However, the problem of evil treated by Muslims and Christians is different because of the difference in their basic belief and view of God.

 

Basic belief of Muslims and Christians

According to Christians, their God (Jesus) is all-loving who loves all humans despite of their sins. According to them, Jesus died for the salvation of their sins and whomsoever possesses faith in him will enter paradise.

Muslims however believe that although God (Allah) is Al-Rahman , Al-Raheem, Al Wadood(All loving) but he is also Al-Dar(The Causer of Harm), Al-Muntaqim(The Avengar), Al Jabbar(The Overwhelming) and Al-Hakm(The Judge). Although he loves humans and for this love He has sent guidance in various forms to them to live according to His will. He has also sent various prophets who had practically lived according to His will and showed it to all. He has also given humans the liberty to repent a 1000 times and He will accept and forgive them. As He has a system of universe and this life, He wants people to live with a purpose according to His guidance. But if after all this, people still sin and continue to live a life without any purpose, without acknowledging, praising and be grateful to their Lord, he punishes them. In this way, people are rewarded and punished and a balanced system of universe is created. Muslims take all these attributes of God into account and then treat problem of evil.

Theories

Many theories have been proposed over the years about problem of evil by various philosophers as well as theologians.

1^st Theory

Evil is an illusion of human mind.

Rejected

This theory was rejected as it seemed very impractical considering the cruelty that exists in this world such as murder, corruption, drought, tsunamis, earthquakes, bribery, rape etc as these problems inflict humans on daily basis. Also, Christians also rejected this theory as their Holy book Bible is filled with the events of horrifying injustice and evil to mankind. The greatest example of which is the crucification of Jesus Christ itself.

        Thus, this theory was rejected.

2^nd Theory

This theory was presented by Saint Augustine. According to him, evil represents going wrong of something that was good in itself. He believed that God created universe in a good state but over the years it was corrupted so much that it turned into evil. According to him, universe is a creation of a good God for a good purpose.

Rejected

However this theory was also rejected because it further highlights problem of evil. Because if God created universe in good form but was not able to control the evil, it means He is not omnipotent.

3^rd Theory

Other theories have been presented by various theologians. Theodicy is a branch of philosophy that tries to justify God in face of evil. It is an attempt to explain why God permits evil. It has been seen by thinkers having more negative conclusions than positive. Theodicy treats problem of evil in two ways. It explains there are two types of evil

·     Problem of Moral Evil

·     Problem of Suffering

Problem of Moral Evil

It refers to the act of humans which are considered morally wrong. It represents the evil created by human activities.

    Problem of Moral Evil is related with free will. Free will means humans have freedom to do anything and to act rightly or wrongly.

An argument to this is that if God is omnipotent and omniscient, he must have known which people would sin so he should have not created the sinners.

Theodicy states that after giving free will, the idea of a person who always act rightly is infallible. Consequently, the possibility of sin or wrong doing is inseparable from being a person. It means that if people had free will, they would definitely sin. To state that God should not have created people who would sin simply means he should not have created people.

         However, Theodicy has been challenged by questioning free will. They say that humans are not in actual free beings. They found themselves in situations created by God and act accordingly.

For example,

Ø      If a teenage boy finds himself in the company of boys who are drug addicts and criminals, it is likely that he will follow their path.

Ø      Similarly, if a teenage boy finds himself in the company of boys who have certain ambitions and are pious, it is likely that he will be like them.

This shows that humans have no true free will and they only respond to the situations in which they find themselves.

Problem of Suffering

Problem of Suffering refers to sources of human pain which are independent of any human will such as natural disasters, earthquakes, famine, tsunamis, and floods and so on.

Theodicy deals with this problem that God didn’t want to create a heaven for humans where all could enjoy equal resources and be happy. In this way, all humans would be independent of each other and great values such as generosity, humbleness etc. would have no meaning in life. Also, if there would be no natural calamities, people would not understand the importance of prayer and that they are dependent on God for All their desires and wellbeing.

Problem of Evil According to Islam

According to Islam, problem of moral evil exists because of human action who did not follow the commandments of Allah and went beyond their prescribed limits. Islam has ordained certain rights and duties for every person and if they don’t follow them evil and chaos results.

According To Islam, Problem of Suffering exists because Allah tests the people he loves so that he can judge them and increase their ranks.

 Prophet (PBUH) said, “He is the one who decrees harm and causes it to reach whomsoever he wants.”

Allah says in the Quran in Surah Al Baqarah

Do you think you will be admitted into Paradise without being tested like those before you? They were afflicted with suffering and adversity and were so ˹violently˺ shaken that ˹even˺ the Messenger and the believers with him cried out, “When will Allah's help come?” Indeed, Allah's help is ˹always˺ near.

              Thus, this was the problem of evil which is today still a hot topic among philosophers, theologians and common people as well. This problem can be best tackled if we try to find its root and follow Islamic injunctions in this regard.

 

 

A Regular Evening~Poem

 A Regular Evening

And  I sat here

Unknown of everything

Holding a pen, I always feel

A magical spell will now be encarved on this paper

Sitting here void of imagination

Yet loaded with thoughts

This world doesn’t mean to me now

My heart and my soul have endless lust

Even after feeling all the earthly desires

I feel a void in everything, an unknown desire

I need nothing yet I need everything

I have seen all the emotions in their extremity

Happiness, sadness, nothingness

No one has ever named the feeling after nothingness

Has no one ever felt it, am I the only one

Having feelings that are strange to me

The state when you have everything

But still you have become numb

Cause this everything was only ‘something’ for me

I could have this ‘something’ ages ago

Without going through any grief

Yet I felt it because I was the one

Who chose to chase their dreams

Among the brave ones who chose to be hurt to grow

                                                                     ~Tehreem Makhdoom