I’ve been trying, for the last month and a half, to get my sister to post, publicly, what she wrote the day after we found out Data Darbar was bombed, and finally that day has come.
Whereas I found myself unable to put words to the ways I was feeling, she poignantly and eloquently cut through the pain and wrote something beautiful and incisive. I am proud to share it with you now.
“What do you do when you find out that the neighborhood you spent a good portion of your childhood in has been attacked by a suicide bomber? Specifically, the mosque that is the center of that neighborhood, the heart. More specifically, the mosque your family has been the caretakers for the last, oh, few centuries (at least, until the government took over official caretaking duties); the one where the 29th great grandfather is buried? Even more specifically, the mosque where many impoverished people essentially live because there is practically 24-7 charity going on there, people spooning up dal from enormous dekhs, folding it into roti. What do you do? …”
can need to find the full text here, at her new blog, smallthingsgrow.