As the mystery of the missing plain MH370 deepens, the only people whose absence (death probably) struck me really hard is of the two Iranians using the fake passports.
I don't, in any way, intend to sound insensitive towards the souls or the grief of the loved one's of the others aboard that unfortunate plane.
A chance reading of an article about the last status update by those two Iranians made me break down into convulsive sobs. (http://time.com/20592/mh370-nourmohammadi-iran-malaysia/)
It makes me miserable to think of the irony of the post which has the man saying no when asked are they ever coming back.
It makes me feel thankful for being blessed but more than gratitude there is a strong surge of guilt gripping my body and mind.
Guilty of living a life that they were running away for. Guilty of how having everything they must have spent nights yearning for and despite having all of this, complaining about the most minor elements of discord in my otherwise seemingly perfect life. Guilty of how despite, the younger one being as old as me, won't live to see a glorious future. Guilty of having been chosen to be blessed.
I have never really prayed for a stranger but this is the purest form of gratitude and askance of peace for their souls. For everybody who was there on that doomed plane. For their loved ones and anybody who has ever died before having a shot at life.
I don't, in any way, intend to sound insensitive towards the souls or the grief of the loved one's of the others aboard that unfortunate plane.
A chance reading of an article about the last status update by those two Iranians made me break down into convulsive sobs. (http://time.com/20592/mh370-nourmohammadi-iran-malaysia/)
It makes me miserable to think of the irony of the post which has the man saying no when asked are they ever coming back.
It makes me feel thankful for being blessed but more than gratitude there is a strong surge of guilt gripping my body and mind.
Guilty of living a life that they were running away for. Guilty of how having everything they must have spent nights yearning for and despite having all of this, complaining about the most minor elements of discord in my otherwise seemingly perfect life. Guilty of how despite, the younger one being as old as me, won't live to see a glorious future. Guilty of having been chosen to be blessed.
I have never really prayed for a stranger but this is the purest form of gratitude and askance of peace for their souls. For everybody who was there on that doomed plane. For their loved ones and anybody who has ever died before having a shot at life.
It has gotten me to a really poignant conclusion which is a fact that must've been hidden away from me owing to my absolute ignorance and disregard for all that is good and lovely in my world.
Life is the most precious gift.
Squandering it, should feel more devastating than ending it.
Life is the most precious gift.
Squandering it, should feel more devastating than ending it.
PS the painting attached, is my depiction of the above post, I'm not exactly good at it, but as one of my friends said, "All arts are about reflections. :)"
