Peshawar attack: How do you overcome the death of children?
They stopped our children from going to school. They bombed our schools. They issued fatwas against education. They shot Malala Yousafzai for becoming the voice for those who wanted books to replace bullets. Today, they crossed that one line that distinguishes a human being from a monster you only read about in stories. Today, they entered a school, and killed 141 people. 132 of those were children. Children studying, talking, laughing. Children who posed a threat to no one, and feared no one other than the strict maths teacher or the examination the next day. Children just being children. Pakistan is too stunned, too grief-stricken, too shaken to even make sense of what has happened today. Pakistan stands united in its mourning for the 132 children and eight teachers/staff killed in an Army school in Peshawar. Pakistan stands united against Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) without any ifs and buts today.
How we reached here is another debate, for another day. Today, I’m in too much pain to be rational about the whats and hows of the passage to this unimaginable tragedy. My almost 15-year-old only son is my heart, my life, and his wellbeing means more than the entire world to me. Seeing his smiles fade for any reason makes my heart sink. When he falls sick – very rarely…thank God – I suffer with him. His laughter becomes the sparkle in my smiles. Losing a child is that one grief I cannot even begin to imagine, and losing a child is something the idea of which makes me go cold in my soul.
What do I say to those mothers who kissed their children’s happy faces this morning and saw their bloodied bodies hours later? How do I commiserate with those fathers who taught their children to be brave, and today the same children were shot at point blank range? Where do I find words to console those siblings who lost their much-loved brothers and sisters? How do I word my grief for the family of the teacher who was burnt and the students were made to watch? What are the condolences for those families whose members died while trying to protect the students they taught every day? My words fail me. As I try to word my pain in these disjointed lines, I blink my unshed tears, and I breathe through that tremendous pain that only a mother feels when she hears about the death of a child. Anyone’s child. Today, 132 children died.
I stand in solidarity with all who mourn today. And I stand in solidarity with those who have vowed complete elimination of the menace of terrorism. My son will attend school every day in solidarity with those who were killed in that one building where all are equal, and all are safe: a school. Nothing, and no one will take our children’s right to go to school in Pakistan; nothing will deter our resolve to fight those who desire the supremacy of bullets over books. And together we stand today. We say NO to terrorism. In one voice.
Rest in peace, the martyrs of Peshawar. We mourn you. Together.