My cousin was shot dead a week ago. The suspected
culprits may be the Taliban, or ISIS (or whatever they are called these
days) or political agents seeking more money from him. It matters who
they are, and yet at the level of my life, it doesn't.
Having
moved out of Pakistan after highschool, with the infamous story of not
even turning around to wave good bye to my family, i have managed to
build the structure a "successful life" around myself. I got a degree in
a prestigious profession, got a "good job" and often hear stories of
older relatives asking my mom about "the golden child". I have learnt to
manage" my relationships, carefully revealing intricately designed
parts of myself to different spectrums of the society. I am onw to my
family, another to my freinds, yet another to my colleges. As i
integrate all these parts of myself, i am coming to discover a deep
truth held sacred in my soul. I believe in the paradox of choice.
Nothing
hurts more than being abandoned. i learned this truth as a child, left
behind in social settings because of my gender. I remember wistfully
wanting to go pray in the mens side of the mosque with my dad, or
wanting to be in the mens side of the room during family occasions . I
learned to continue spreading this wound, first by abandoning my younger
sister by never really acknowledging her in conversations or devleoping
a real relationships with her and then by abandoning by and large most
of my family upon my immigration. In doing that, i am learning, i
abandoned a huge piece of myself. The majority of my life, my childhood
dreams and thoughts, freindships and relationships were abandoned. I
chose to do all that, and to create healthy boundaries, to heal and
become who i am today. As an adult, i come across that wound often, in
friends and loved ones. I struggle with it myself, and often see it as
the deepest wound we humans inflict upon another.
My belief
in the paradox of choice allows me to continue choosing. It allows me
to see that so much of who i am today is not because of me. And yet
there is so much that is. My cousin was shot because he was a prominent
figure in the religious scene in Pakistan. He was the son of a religious
cleric and grew up in a system which was saturated with that particular
flavor of theology. I dont know if he intentionally chose the path he
did, or if he considered the far ranging implications of it. I know that
if i was born of a different gender, i would have seen that life style
as attractive too. The desire to be the hero rages deep inside me.
Being shunned due to being of the female gender, and having interalized
those experiences i approached life from a different perspective. Good
luck and the generosity of relatives brought me to America, unfortunate
bitter experiences with some muslim people drew me away from islam as a
religion, persistent failures of mere mortal men made me painfully aware
of my triggers against religion and at the current moment find solace
in spirituality. And yet, neither of us can claim to be the sole
creators of our lives, nor claim having nothing to do with it. So, i get
to live with the conclusion that if there is a conductor leading the
orchestra of this universe, she has a unique sense of humor.
I
believe in the paradox of choice and how important it is to own it. I
deserve no accolades for what is present in my life, and yet i deserve
some praise. My cousin did not deserve to be shot for his belief system
or situation in life, and yet there is a level of responsibility for him
to bear. The day I can own it all, maybe i will be able to let go of my
better than though attitude towards others. Maybe i will be able to
love all my neighbours as myself, even those who think i am wrong and an
infidel. Maybe i will be able to over come self racism and hatred and
accept the petty and small parts of me. Maybe i will be able to complete
the heros journey of returning back to my origins, not to evangilize or
apostolize my new found truths and epiphanies, but to hold space for
healing. The paradox of choice is one we can chose to hold, and this I
believe!
