After a couple of weeks of suffering from an inexplicable pain deep inside my lower back (that arose from doing mobility exercises of all things) I have diagnosed myself with a slipped disc. Apparently, the problem resolves itself with a bit of rest and tlc, two things I seem to be requiring more of with each passing day.
Summer is in full swing , high u-v indices keeping me firmly ensconced at home during daylight hours. Not that I am ever to be found otherwise. However, since a few days I have been feeling a bit too isolated for my own good, despite the fact that the thought of meeting anyone or having conversations feels impossible. What a conundrum. I wonder if this conflict between dual aspects of ones’ nature afflicts everyone. As I figure out what it is that I truly want, I am spending all my time exploring a variety of creative pursuits. Crochet has taken a backseat as I pull out my scraps and threads and put together a little sampler of patchwork and embroidery. It is a slow, aimless kind of stitching, with no end goal in mind. As a recovering perfectionist, it feels like an exercise in letting go, of relaxing, of not judging the mistakes and flaws in my needlework.
Are Pakistanis generally a loud people? Every thursday we are subjected to a litany of naats over a loudspeaker at a religious leaders’ house right next to where we live. This nonconsensual usurping of communal airspace worked me up into quite a tizzy recently, and I don’t enjoy sitting with rage. I wouldn’t be upset if the voices were soft and melodious. It bothers me that there is no concept of quiet reverence in our culture. Even the guy in charge of making announcements every evening at the mazaar of Abdullah Shah Ghazi across my home, drones on in high-pitched tones. Sadly, the double-glazed windows we installed to block sounds also block the sea breeze that keeps the air in our home in circulation.
Uncomfortable feelings need to be alchemized, or else they land you in more misery. I marched into the kitchen and whipped up some hummus, using tahini straight from the holy lands. Amazing how the frustration of achieving a creamy consistency drowns out all unpleasant noises in the outside world.
But all of this is nothing. There is an underlying anxiety that pervades the air, it cannot be wished away. As I write this, there are leaflets being dropped on Rafah by the Israeli army, ordering thousands of already displaced Palestinians to evacuate immediately. The stress and the horror reach me here, as I reflect on the fact that there are no safe spaces in Gaza for the people to evacuate to. Empathy moves painfully through and coalesces in tears. This bearing witness feels like a ton of bricks on my lungs, it’s hard to breathe when you are aware that there are people being crushed to death in an open-air concentration camp. The only thing giving me any heart these heavy days is the huge shift that seems to be happening in the collective. You’d have to be a hardcore Zionist to deny it.
A few months ago, I was invited to a party. My friend was coming all the way to Karachi from the United States of America to celebrate her mother’s 75th birthday and she asked me to join in the festivities. But when the day came, I was shaken by the news emanating from Gaza and the idea of putting myself in an environment of celebration felt inconceivable, so I didn’t go. I spent the day letting my tears flow unchecked. Later, my friend expressed her disappointment at my not showing up. I told her quite honestly how sad I was feeling, and she said she understood, but that we have to carry on living our own lives and celebrating our own joys, and she’s right in her own way. I don’t really think she understood how I felt though, and understandably or not, when my birthday rolled around, there were no wishes from her in my inbox.
It’s been 212 days, and there is no ceasefire in sight. How is this all going to end? With the complete eradication of the indigenous people of those lands? When will justice be served? is peace in Falasteen a pipe dream? Where has my hope fluttered to?