There is a big ball in my throat upon which I am choking. I don’t have words. But I don’t want to be quiet. I twiddled with my thumbs for an hour before I started typing. Forgive me for this repetition of emotional outburst, that you may have seen all over the web, but when in grief and shock, you rarely make sense. It’s just words and you and a white wall you want to fill. You don’t bother what you write about, but you know that as long as you can vent your anger out, as long as you can press those squares of alphabets that huddle to make a story, that go out to the world and tell them about you, your grief, your existence, you don’t feel helpless. You want to keep throwing stones in the pond, keep creating ripples until they reach the other end. I do not know what is that “other end” for me. May be its you, or you, or them. But I know this tiny bit of truth, that remorse is never the answer. It muffles all sounds and clogs all thoughts. And that is what the human garbage, the shit-heads tried to do in Peshawer. But we are not going to let them succeed. We do not want martyrs at the hands of a pile of pig-shit. We want our kids to be good human beings, not martyrs, thank you.

They targeted our school, our kids. We’ll educate more. We’ll never stop.

And what a slap it was on their dirty faces when all schools were kept open today, post-calamity.

#PeshawerAttack #16 December #12/16 

©2014. Habiba Danyal