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We are dead inside

Within Karachi only, the grand total percentage of Pakistan’s literacy rate is not as much as some of us expect it to be, neither of us are shocked to see it, well, at least some of us aren’t. The ones who are literate, their worlds revolve around their surroundings. They don’t know much about the difficulties faced by the boy picking stones on the streets.

Our society is rebellious. Not when it comes to the government or anything related to politics, but towards self-improvement and a combined cause. We are brought up with the belief of helping others, and maybe we do act on these beliefs, but even when we are helping others, we do so for our own benefit. We don’t care about the hunger of the needy or about pulling down the shade over those beaten down by the sun!  God forbid it, but we love to play the role of a Lord over those who can’t take a stand. “My son was hardworking and intelligent. I could not believe it when the police said he was driving recklessly,” said his mother who herself doesn’t give a slightest damn of who her son rolled the car over.

Let’s get to the other side. What if tomorrow someone leaks actual evidence of the plans of our political leaders? Some conspiracy of demolishing the Islamic Republic with help from some not so hidden agendas of pretentious Islamic states. Will there be an uproar among the civilians? No. Not at all. All of us will say that the “awam” will now do something about it. But what we conveniently forget to mention is that we are the so-called ‘awam’.

When dozens of families are displaced with a single explosion of dynamite and news anchors pull on each other’s sleeves to report it, we aren’t thinking about what has happened, but what the purpose of it was and how it will affect the society.

The bottom line is that we are dead inside. We might be breathing, eating and enjoying our fancy houses built of glass, our enclosed lives of limited pleasure of pop cultures that don’t even belong to us, but we truly aren’t alive. In our minds, there is only one spotlight, the one that is on each of us. There’s barely a person out there who sees someone else in his spot light.

And the hilarious part is a rant like this won’t even nudge the voices inside you. You’ll probably forget what you just read moments after and so would I. We would continue living the lives we are living, being robbed of our rights and never questioning it. Not caring about the ones in need, and not doing anything but criticizing the leaders. Being as lazy as they come, standing in a middle of a war zone of our city with our headphones on, playing Beethoven as we witness people get killed around us. The voices inside us are sleeping….                                                                 May they rest in peace.


Written by: Zain Rizwan.

  • mustajab ahmad

    watching u grow is a magical feeling which cant be explained.