The Dead Mourn The Living

More people are dead. Forty-nine more people to be precise, the discussion is looming around, whether the guy was Muslim or not. Is this a hate crime or not? Anti-Muslim rhetoric once more, its back; Yeah that’s the world we live in, we can’t escape it for too long. Here we are the second people die the debate goes to gun control, and Islamic extremism and all I could think about was that forty-nine plus people died including 50 and more people are injured out of which it seems many still might not make it.

I don’t think their families and loved ones much care about those things right now. Do you know how many rooms 49 bodies would fill? Can you imagine the blood on the floors that would need to be cleaned up? Fifty-three people are in hospitals, in critical condition. Those people who are in limbo waiting for their loved ones to pull through, have you ever waited in a waiting room? If you have, then you know how terrible that smell is, even worse when you have to wait there for someone you care. They are sitting there while you sit on social media and have a discussion about gun control or radical Islam or homosexuality or whatever else that suits your fancy.

You think they have time for this? You think they are thankful that they have intelligent and well-balanced countrymen and women like us on their side? Yeah we got this for them. We have really well written arguments in defense of their dead friends and family members. I am sorry, but I think my grief has turned into bitter anger because we have made a habit of getting on to the internet and just spewing hate and pointing fingers at each other and then that’s it. We think our job is done. Our trigger is the send button. As soon as things settle we stop. We get riled up by some other tragedy once more but only to post our opinion, rather our hate towards others. As soon that’s over we are done until the next time. The dead, the victims, the next victims, the criminals, no one needs that.

My heart is aching. Not one but all of my hearts, the heart of a mother, sister, wife, friend all of these are breaking and mourning. I can’t imagine losing so much in such a small amount of time.

For us Muslims the trauma is two-fold. It’s not just watching our people and country being attacked, on top of it we also watch our religion being attacked and then our own turn against us. We are left alone defenseless to fend for ourselves. While we are mourning and grieving just like everyone else we are also busy proving that we are not guilty by “apologizing” and “condemning” over and over these actions and attacks that have affected us just as much, which is absolutely ridiculous.

Past week with Muhammad Ali’s death, which proved to be a blessing in disguise that showed the world the true Islam. The everyday and mundane side of Islam. The common man’s Islam that we practice. The religion that’s not complicated and scary. It was going so well. I was feeling so blessed to have someone like Muhammad Ali in our midst. He had never been my inspiration while he was alive but in his death he taught me so much about how to live.

Yet here we are, one man who knows nothing of my religion. Who practices none of it is able to pollute so easily the hard work of a man who lived such a wonderful life for an entire lifetime. How fragile and forgetful we are, how ungrateful and unmindful we are.

In this time of crisis I wonder how Muhammad Ali would handle it. Kind of like a, “What would Jesus do” reminder for all of us. Not that I’m comparing Ali to Jesus. Let me put it this way; if Muhammad Ali were alive and Jesus were here, he would for sure would ask Jesus what to do. So what do you think Jesus would tell Muhammad Ali? Don’t you wonder? Because I sure as heck do, I assure you no one feels more lost and confused than I do right now. A guidance from the likes of Jesus would be a Godsend in all its literal meaning.