I wish that I lived in a world where hashtags were limited to Instagram bloggers trying to get more likes on their photos so Khadi might eventually sponsor them. You could be the one to post your picture, the quote that makes no sense with it, and finish it off with a #IslamabadFashion or #RichLife - knowing that there’s going to be a mass of people searching for the next person they can objectify.
In my world, hashtags have become the last gasps of air that those struggling to find meaning can breathe. When your only reaction is to beg for justice into the void of Twitter. It’s the equivalent of “thoughts and prayers”, but with gritted teeth, balled up fists and bloodshot eyes.
Our system and country have turned us into roadside beggars. We’re drawing hashtags on the windows of every newspaper, every police station, every politician to beg for accountability, to beg for justice.
The newspapers can’t hear us over their clacking typewriters rushing to the press to talk about how Maryam Nawaz and Jemima Khan are having a spat involving each other’s children.
The police constables have conveniently looked the other way - purely incidentally towards the fountain of chaye and pani that is being purchased for them.
The politicians aren’t done with their talk shows yet, where they accuse each other for being the cause of economic issues no-one really understands, and celebrate victories that never really matter.
We stand at the side of the roads - begging for justice, knowing that there is none to be found.
#JusticeForNoor
#JusticeForSaima
#JusticeForQuratulain
There are those who will roll their windows down, but only to ask more questions. Only to tell us that actually, justice is very much alive. Only to try and find a way to assign blame onto anything but the system or the country.
They’ll start with a knowing, conspiratory nod. “She must have been out late at night.”
The beggars will be shaken - to think that the news of a murder would be reacted to so. Even then, you play the game - knowing that you have to. “No, she was in her home.”
Their arms stretch and their eyebrows are raised. “How did she know the man? Who let him into her home? This is why women shouldn’t have strange men in their home.”
You play the game - knowing that you have to. “He was her lover.”
A victorious eureka look in their eyes. Proud that they’ve found the reason why the murder was warranted, a reason which lets them hide from reality. “There you have it! It was an affair then, nothing good ever comes from affairs. That’s why women shouldn’t have affairs.”
You play the game - knowing that you have to. “He was her husband.”
An arrogant harrumph as if this was something that should have been mentioned from the start. “It must be a personal matter then. Matters of the house always need more context and nuance to them. We can’t just be sentencing someone that easily, who knows what could have been done?”
And then the traffic signal turns green, the hashtag is no longer trending, and our arbiters of justice drive off into the distance.
On some level, I envy them. The unshakeable faith that there is a system that is serving its purpose is something I deeply wish that I had. I know it comes from a place where they don’t want to believe how helpless they are when it comes to their own surroundings. No-one can control the chaos, the killing, the murders.
At best, I’ll get told that “This is happening because we’ve strayed away from religion.” The West has killed their gods. Atheism and the lack of meaning has plagued them for close to a century. I do not see crime, rape, and murder there only being followed up by the silent consensus that there will be absolutely fucking nothing done about it. Even by bringing this up, I know that I risk the conversation straying instead to “But what about America, or England, or France, or …”
The truth is that these voices don’t know what they can do about it - and in truth I don’t think any of us do. We are submerged, there is blood in our lungs, we are coughing it out hoping and wishing that there was anyone who could do something about it. You can tell yourself that you can defend against harassment, give therapy for trauma, preach religion for meaning, but you can’t give life to the dead.
We are living life one day at a time, at the mercy of hashtags, hoping that we don’t have to gasp out into the void asking for justice - knowing that it will never come.
Hmmm, that seems to be a very pessimistic view of reality, although I agree with the conclusion that none of us know how to fix it. However, I believe that, we, as individuals, are not meant to try to 'fix the world' or 'campaign for justice'. This is because no matter how much you fight, there will always be evil. Therefore, all we can do is not succumb to evil ourselves, and recognize it when we see it, proclaim it when we can, and fight it if we must. In my opinion, you should try to be the best you can, be personally just and kind, and let the chips fall where they may. Stressing too much about things we can't change leads to unecessary heartache and misery.
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