Confessions of a Muslim Girl

Chapter 36 -- Filling the Holes

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"Does it ever cross your mind that not being in pain at this very moment is a miraculous thing in itself? Think about all the neurons, all the organs, all the biological mechanisms that had to be functioning perfectly for you to be sitting here, painless." -- Maysa Malik, Confessions of a Muslim Girl

Chapter 36

Filling the Holes

☼ Maysa Malik ☼

Existence. Do you ever wonder about yours? Do you ever wonder why you do what you do, why you are what you are, why you think what you think? Does it ever cross your mind that not being in pain at this very moment is a miraculous thing in itself? Think about all the neurons, all the organs, all the biological mechanisms that had to be functioning perfectly for you to be sitting here, painless.

Does it ever occur to you that while you get up every day from this comfortable bed of yours, somewhere, someone in this world is waking up from the hard, dirt floor? Does it ever occur to you that while you go to school and see your friends, somewhere in this world, people of your age are working every second, every hour just to make ends meet for their family?

Does it ever occur to you while you spend time on Facebook, on Tumblr, on Twitter, somewhere out there, a small piece of humanity slips away as babies are murdered, families are separated, women are raped, men are tortured?

Forget about the rest of the world for a minute. Do you ever, and I mean ever wonder if you've experienced the real world? A world where your biggest problem isn't that you lost your phone? A world where each and every day you rise and give thanks to God, to the eminent being that has created you?

Because I don't. And I'll confess that right now, right at this moment as I sit with my back against the cool wall of my room next to my window. I'm confessing this all right now because if I didn't, the murder of realization in my heart will close the door to changing myself forever.

Noha and Adam left half an hour ago, and since then, we-as a family-sat in the living room, sorting things out. All my life I'd thought that my parents knew the solution to every situation and problem. Today, I don't see them as Mom and Dad, I see them as Yahya and Liyana, two individuals who are on their own journey in life.

Today, I understood for the first time-truly understood-that they are humans just like me, just like Zakariya, just like Nazia. And as I heard Zakariya confess all of what happened, I realize truly how preoccupied I am with myself.

I think realizing selfishness and self-centeredness is something that happens from time to time. It's not this one, big epic discovery and you go about your life. Why? Because it's a thin road we walk on. You realize you're wrong; you fix yourself up a bit. You realize you're wrong again; you rectify your mistakes again. It's a slow process, but a worthwhile one.

So again, I realize what I'm doing is wrong. When I wake up in the morning, do I thank God for giving me a new day, a new opportunity to do good deeds? No. When I'm preoccupied, complaining about how Zakariya doesn't talk to me, do I stop and wonder why he's doing that? Do I wonder how it's affecting him? No. For nearly a year, Zakariya's silence was my biggest problem, but somewhere out there, there is someone praying that their problems were as simple as mine.

And if that realization doesn't cause something to stir inside of me, then I don't have to worry about the death that will one day inevitably come to my body; I have to worry about the death that will come to my heart through that lack of response.

I slowly rise from where I'm sitting in the dark, in my room, against the wall, next to the window. My palms rest on the icy windowpane as I stare up at the sliver of the moon reclining in the night sky. Murky black clouds attempt to cover up the brilliant light illuminating from it. They shift, blanketing, separating, blocking again.