They went to school. Now they are dead


Nearly 130 children were massacred in Peshawar, Pakistan.

One-Hundred-Thirty children. And some innocent adults.

Many other children who survived the terrorist attack suffered injuries, were traumatised and witnessed brutal deaths of friends & teachers which may perhaps haunt them for years. Pictures of little bodies of students — some hurt some dead — have been plastered across internet. I can’t bring myself to look at them without cringing in fear (as I think immediately about my toddler), followed by disgust at the terrorists who thought this massacre was justified in the name of revenge.

Why am I writing about this on my personal blog where I have never discussed anything beyond motherhood and its challenges? Because I am terrified now to even let my toddler away from my eyes for even a second. I am glad that he has grandparents looking after him when I am at work because I do not think I could be at ease with a maid, at this point, to take care of this tiny & precious life, whom I created (well, me & and my husband created).

Last night I slept holding his hands. I have been contemplating putting him in a play-school for a few hours. Now just keeping him out of home for a few hours, without me or any other family member around him, fills me up with cold dread.

He’s turning 2 in 4 days and I should be fussing about his birthday arrangements. But I can’t and I won’t. A lavish birthday party cannot express my gratitude in having my child safe besides me. There’s nothing in this material world that I can buy or offer God for keeping us safe, for keeping my child safe. I can only call Him out in my thoughts and pray for safety & peace.

A couple of days back, my boy banged his face into a chair, cutting his lip a little. Nothing serious. But the bright red blood that popped out from the cut made me panick like hell. His tears, his blood and his pain was unbearable for me. I wanted to do something. Anything to stop his pain. Overwhelmed by the feeling of what can I do to take away his pain, I started crying with him too.

What I saw last evening on TV and newspapers today, is the a zillion times the above feeling. I cannot imagine what mothers & fathers (brothers, sisters, families) of kids massacred in Peshawar would be going through. No one can. There are no words to offer. I am only more terrified of humanity.


3 thoughts on “They went to school. Now they are dead

  1. I had the same feeling yesterday, i hugged my daughter and slept. Nothing could be more awful than this. As I read somewhere, The lightest of the coffins are the heaviest. May god give the strength to all who suffered.

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