Being born and raised a Pakistani woman, I know a bit about grief. I hail from a country that faces terrorism everyday. I have personally known people who have been victims of terrorism. In eighth grade, there was a bomb blast five minutes from my school. I was in class. My classmates and I heard it. We went into denial mode and hoped it was a transformer. The mosque my family attended was attacked in 2009, a year after we had moved out of that place. It was pure luck. This is not to say I know what it feels like to lose a family member or a close friend to terrorism, just that it is impossible to be Pakistani and not be touched by grief.
It's surreal. Life goes on smoothly when you're across the world. You're expected to smile and make a joke, be patient in your everyday endeavors, move on as soon as possible. It's heartbreaking, this expectation. I am of the belief that there is no right way to grieve. Our grief is as personal as our beliefs. Be it through tears or whiskey, remembrance is remembrance.
So this is my way of grieving. Living a little more. Being kinder to those who don't deserve it. Making more jokes than usual. Smiling a little more brightly. Striving for justice a little more passionately. Creating art a little more profoundly. Working a little harder to live a better life. To me, this celebration of life, is the best form of remembrance. Live for yourself and for them. Create for yourself and for them. Learn for yourself and for them. Spread kindness and love, for yourself and for them.
Thoughts with Orlando today. Peace, love, kindness.
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